Eagle’s Glory

Just as Aigron was busy preparing for his wedding, the fighting in the far north of the Balkans had not stopped.

Although the Russian Empire has clearly learned that the Western powers have unified their positions and hoped to end the war by themselves, the Tsar has yet to reply and respond. He wants to use this time difference to continue the war and weaken the Turks as much as possible. Get ready for the inevitable Russo-Turkish war a generation from now.

However, although the Tsar deliberately blocked the news, the imperial court had never been a place to keep secrets, and rumors soon spread in St. Petersburg, and then spread to the distant Wallachia and Bulgarian fronts.

At this time, Pushkin was fighting here with the Izmailovo Guards regiment to which he belonged.

Of course, although he fought all the way, he did not experience many **** fighting scenes, but spent his military life relatively peacefully.

On the one hand, it was because the Turkish army was weak and easily defeated by the Russian Empire's front. The elite infantry regiment he was in was the main reserve team and did not need **** fighting at all; on the other hand, it was because of the command of the regiment. Officials all know that Mr. Pushkin is a well-known poet and a celebrity in the court. If he is rashly asked to perform any dangerous task, in case of an accident, the court will blame no one.

As the imperial army deepened all the way, the supply of the legion slowly became a headache, the speed of advancement inevitably slowed down, and the fighting subsided temporarily.

The entire legion rested on the spot on the front line, waiting for various supplies to be transported from the rear through the carriage, and the sergeants were also gearing up for the next round of the massive offensive.

The war was so smooth, and their confidence was extremely inflated. In their opinion, as long as one more punch, they would penetrate the Sultan's territory in the Balkans and kill all the way to the city of Constantinople.

In this way, Pushkin followed his own troops and stationed in a village in Bulgaria that he could not even name himself.

During the rest period, the soldiers will of course find their own fun, either drinking or gambling, or drinking and gambling at the same time. Pushkin is of course the same as others, but after such a period of time, he feels a little bored.

At noon that day, he woke up from a hangover, and before he could wake up with a headache, his friend Boris Volkonsky came to visit him.

During this time, Boris also drank and gambled like him, and came to him very rarely, so Pushkin was a little surprised and thought of something big, so he immediately struggled to get up and receive his friends.

"Good morning, my friend." Pushkin greeted with complete weariness. "Is there any good news for me?"

"There is no good news, but there is one bad news." Boris replied.

"What's wrong?" Seeing the solemn expression on the other's face, Pushkin immediately shuddered, and his expression became serious.

"I'm sorry, but our march may end in this area." Boris explained to him in a low voice, "This hellish deserted village will be the pinnacle of our glory."

"What, are we no longer marching?" Pushkin was a little stunned.

"Yeah, it's a pity." Boris Volkonsky shrugged, "The news from Petersburg said that the British-led ambassadors have all sent notes to the government of His Majesty the Tsar, requesting that they be properly considered. peace initiative-"

"It turns out..." Pushkin sighed.

He was not surprised either - after all, before the war started, they had already predicted that the Western powers would not be able to sit back and watch the Tsar's Majesty take chestnuts from the fire all the way to Constantinople and rebuild the Third Rome.

Judging from the current situation, the Russian Empire has won brilliant victories, defeating the Turks in both the Balkans and the Caucasus. Even if it stops now, the Turks can cede land and pay indemnities with harsh treaties. Another piece of flesh was torn from the sick man of the Near East.

But even knowing this, Pushkin couldn't help but feel sorry for the defeat of the imperial army.

Because he knew that the Russians in his generation had no hope of retaking Constantinople.

He walked out of the tent, and then looked at the desolate winter scene around him. The rocks and trees showed an unspeakable bleakness, as if mocking his trip this time.

Although there are victories, there is no glory, and there is no imagined romance and splendor.

Is everything about to come to an abrupt end here? He was a little dissatisfied.

But even if he was not reconciled, he knew that this was His Majesty's decision, and he was not allowed to question it.

"How long are we going to be here?" he asked after taking his breath away.

"If there is no accident, it will probably stay for a month or two. We will withdraw until the spring. His Majesty wants us to continue the war, weaken the few remaining strength of the Turks, and do it for the next generation's war. Get ready." Boris Volkonsky told Pushkin what he knew, "but we can't go on to Constantinople any more, the fussing gentlemen in London don't want to see this happen. "

"That means we're going to stay here for a month or two, and then continue to drink and gamble?" Pushkin asked rhetorically.

"If nothing else, it is like this." Boris nodded, "but if you think this is too boring, I can take you to find the girls here - but you don't expect them to have Peterborough. The girls who know the style..."

Pushkin knew that his friend's proposal was serious, and he also knew that the other party could do it, but now, his mood was low, and even this proposal could not cheer him up.

What the **** am I thinking? Why am I so dissatisfied?

He pondered, exploring himself, trying to figure out what he wanted to do.

After a moment of silence, he had a flash of inspiration and found the answer.

Yes, he didn't want the rare experience of his life to end in this wilderness. Since he participated in a major historical event, he wanted to witness it completely and with his own eyes.

Otherwise, the poet cannot be reconciled.

so……

"I heard that Duke Reichstedt is getting married?" he asked suddenly.

"Yeah, that's what everyone said." Boris couldn't understand why he asked, but nodded, "It is said that Princess Teresa of Austria has arrived in Greece and is going to marry him."

Having said this, he said with a bit of jealousy, "Some people are really lucky, no matter what they do, they can be forgiven and tolerated by others... The princess has already suffered enough of his suffering, right? I didn't expect that I was still infatuated, but I was going to go to Greece to marry him."

"I don't think this is surprising, Duke Leichstedt is entitled to the affection of others." Pushkin replied, "The noble ladies have been dressed in fine clothes since they were young, and they are used to being flattered. They take it for granted in their hearts. , It's not worth cherishing so much, so I like those who are different... In comparison, the Duke is so dazzling, and it is normal for Princess Teresa to be fascinated."

"I almost forgot, you are also very good at dealing with those ladies in Petersburg." Boris couldn't help laughing, "I heard that the Duke is also a poet, you should have a common language with him."

"I don't know..." Pushkin shook his head, "but I want to try."

Boris didn't understand it at first, but after a moment he remembered it, and then looked at Pushkin in surprise.

"What? Do you really want to run up to him and see?"

"Yes, Boris Petronovich...I just asked myself and came up with this idea." Pushkin nodded honestly and admitted, "I want to see his wedding."

"You are not the guest in his plan." Boris retorted.

"Yes, but so what?" Pushkin asked rhetorically. "Even if I'm just among the onlookers, it's enough to confirm what our era looks like—"

"You really found a strange reason..." Boris didn't quite understand. "My friend, why are you so interested in Duke Reichstedt?"

"Of course I would be interested in a person who can create such a career at a young age, because I admire heroes." Pushkin replied without thinking, "Among the grandsons of this generation, he is the only one who looks a little like him. It's as dazzling as I expected, then our age may be interesting; if he is disappointingly mediocre, then I think our generation will be ridiculed by future generations as mediocre and dull, because even the best of them are nothing but the best. in this way!"

Then, he changed his words, "However, my main purpose is not for him, but for Greece...Listen, my friend, at the moment when such a glorious ancient civilization is reborn, if I am so close I can't even forgive myself for committing a crime against history when I wasn't there! I don't even need to be involved, it would be ridiculous if I didn't even qualify as a bystander."

Boris froze for a moment, then couldn't help laughing.

"Hahahaha... 'Crimes against history!', Alexander Sergeyevich, you are a poet."

After laughing for a while, he became serious again, "However, since you said so, as a friend, I can't bear to see your depressed look."

"Why, are you willing to help me?" Pushkin suddenly came to the spirit.

"It's not easy, but if it works well, it's not that difficult." Boris pondered for a moment, and then replied in a low voice, "You can pretend to have a bad cold and pneumonia and apply for recuperation, and I'll go and work with the regiment commander. , let someone take you to a nearby village to rest, and then you can move freely... As long as you don't speak up during this time, no one will know where you went."

Pushkin's eyes suddenly lit up.

If it is an ordinary person, there will definitely be problems with this operation, but Boris was born in a famous noble family in Petersburg, and the family is quite powerful in the army. If he helps him operate, there will be no problem. Dare to let a pneumonia patient stay in the army.

"Then let's do it!" He nodded immediately and agreed with his friend.

Then, he held Boris's hand heavily, "My friend...my loyal friend, thank you for your help to me."

"What's this?" Boris whistled. "Real Russians can do anything for their friends."

Then, the two people began to discuss the next details. For Pushkin, he has always been a passionate person. Now that he has made up his mind, he is not willing to wait any longer. He only hopes that the sooner the better, and Boris also It can only be planned for him according to the wishes of his friends.

In the end, the two negotiated properly, Boris promised to clear up with the head of the regiment as soon as possible, and Pushkin also began to prepare for the ceremony.

But Boris still gave him a final warning.

"My friend, I just said that we will be retreating in the spring, so you must compress your journey to less than a month and a half, and the shorter the better, don't indulge in the natural beauty of Greece and forget the time. Otherwise Once the matter is exposed, it is not easy for me to explain it to the above.”

"Of course." Pushkin promised again and again, of course he didn't want to embarrass his friends.

"Also, you can't act alone. Although Greece is generally peaceful, there are still chaos and chaos there. You must pay attention to your own safety." Boris made another suggestion, "Well, I will find two reliable people in my company. Brothers, entrust them to protect you from going south, anyway, they have no time to fight and panic... However, their salaries must be paid by you, and I have no spare money now."

"Of course!" Pushkin agreed again.

Since the two of them talked about this, Pushkin decided that it was time to end it. He was going to bid farewell to his friends, and then immediately started to pack up.

However, his friend didn't want to give him this pleasure.

"Okay, let's go!" Boris patted him on the shoulder, "Since you have decided to leave temporarily, let's have a drink and play a few laps of cards to see you off... We'll be fine... Drink enough!"

Pushkin secretly had a headache, because he knew that in this case, Boris would definitely let go of drinking him, after all, it was also a way of expressing his enthusiasm.

He was already a little dizzy because of the hangover. If he drinks so much again, he probably won't be able to get out of bed for the next day...

But since all of my friends have done this, I can't justify my unwillingness to sacrifice.

Anyway, he is working next, and he doesn't need to do much.

And... he himself wanted to have a big drink and say goodbye to his friends.

So what are you hesitating about?

"Okay, my friend, let's have a good drink!"

"Cheers to Princess Teresa!" Boris shouted jokingly.

"Cheers to Duke Reichstedt." Pushkin replied.