"Father, Lieutenant Schwarz said that some things had to be done by someone." Lucas looked earnestly at Baron Scheller. "Why couldn't that someone be me?"
"But..."
The young man suddenly smiled and patted his father's back like an old friend. "Look, so many people are involved in this. As long as we can drive that Tugut bastard from power, His Majesty the Emperor will surely pardon us."
Scheller fell silent for several seconds, then drew a deep breath. "Lucas, your brother is dead. I received the notice of his death in battle the week before last."
He looked at his son. "You're all I have left now. I'm begging you..."
Lucas froze, his eyes turning red in an instant.
The two stood there speechless for quite a while. Then an officer in the distance shouted toward them, "Scheller, what are you doing? We have to go!"
"Right!"
Lucas answered, raised a hand to wipe his eyes, and said to his father:
"David died for this country. That makes it all the more impossible for me to let him die in vain."
He turned away quickly. "Go back now. I promise I'll return safely."
"No..." Baron Scheller watched his son leave with a group of recruits. He raised a hand, wanting to pull him back, but it felt as though some force had nailed his feet to the ground.
Only when he saw a group of Sans-culottes approaching with flintlock guns in their arms did he turn and hurry away, muttering without cease, "God, please protect my Lucas, even if I must trade my life for his..."
Distraught, he wandered around the Outer City for half a circuit. Along the way, he encountered several groups of Hungarian soldiers firing to disperse protesters. Fortunately, luck was with him; not a single bullet