The fifty-something sans-culotte fearlessly picked up another stone, strode forward, and raised his hand to hurl it at the officer.
Both his sons had died in Northern Italy. His life had gone gray, and now he feared nothing.
"Wait," Scheller hurriedly waved at the crowd. "What are you doing? Go back!"
No one paid him any heed.
The distance between the sans-culottes and the soldiers steadily shrank.
The Hungarian officer shouted again, "Final warning. Leave immediately!"
A stone landed less than an elbow's length from his side.
He snorted coldly and slashed down with his sword. "Fire!"
A dense chorus of bangs erupted instantly. Great clouds of white gunpowder smoke rose into the air, and the dozen or so sans-culottes at the very front toppled backward at once.
The others were instantly terrified, screaming as they turned and fled.
Scheller was so frightened that he squatted on the ground with his head in his hands. Only after his companions hauled him up did he lower his head and inspect himself. Seeing no wounds, he finally forced his legs to move and fled with them.
"W-why did they fire?"
A muddled sound trembled from his lips.
"I saw Pamphlets saying that the Emperor had decided this was a riot and was sending troops to suppress it."
"A riot? We were only petitioning..."
"Shut up, run!"
Several minor nobles ran all the way to the outskirts. Seeing that no soldiers were pursuing them, they were about to catch their breath when they suddenly heard what seemed to be dense footsteps at the end of the street beside them.
Before Scheller could react, several hundred terrified protesters came charging straight toward them.
Then he saw more than a dozen gleaming bayonets appear around the street corner.
He hurriedly lifted his aching legs and