Reincarnated as Napoleon II-Chapter 114: No Chance of Winning

The bombardment did not stop.

From the upper terrace of the Casbah, Hussein Dey watched another shell burst along the western quarter. The impact lifted a curtain of dust that rolled through narrow streets and climbed the whitewashed walls in waves.

Bordj Moulay Hassan was gone.

What remained of it stood broken and occupied. Through the haze, he could see movement along the crest where the French had planted their flag. Moments later, flashes erupted from that height. A shell arced down and struck inside the lower district near the old barracks.

The fortress that had guarded the harbor for generations was now a gun platform pointed at the city.

Behind Hussein Dey, the chamber shook again. Plaster cracked from the ceiling beams. A servant flinched but did not flee.

Agha Ibrahim stepped in from the stairwell, face dark with dust.

"They have moved guns onto the fortress," he said without ceremony.

"I can see that," Hussein Dey replied.

Another impact struck somewhere below the terrace. The shock traveled up through the stone floor and into their legs.

"They are firing from two directions," Ibrahim continued. "From the hills and from the fortress itself. The ships still strike the harbor."

A runner arrived, breathing hard.

"The western gate is damaged. Not breached, but the outer section has collapsed. Men are pulling back toward the inner street."

"Casualties?" Hussein Dey asked.

"Increasing."

The runner hesitated.

"They cannot stand in open positions. The shells come too fast."

He dismissed the man with a wave.

Mustapha ben Youssef entered next, arm bandaged from Staouéli, uniform still marked by dried earth.

"We tried to reposition the guns near the southern wall," Mustapha said. "The moment they fired, the French adjusted and hit them. Three crews gone in minutes."

Ibrahim’s jaw tightened. "The Casbah batteries?"

"They fire," Mustapha answered. "But their range is limited. The French guns are set farther back. Our shot falls short."

Another burst shook the outer wall. A plume of dust rose near a market district. Civilians scattered through the alleys below, dragging children and bundles.

Hussein Dey stepped away from the terrace and into the shade.

"If this continues," Ibrahim said quietly, "the city will not hold."

Silence lingered between them, broken only by the steady rhythm of distant impacts.

Mustapha spoke first.

"They have the high ground. They have the harbor. Their fleet blocks the sea. Their field guns outrange ours."

"We are being dismantled."

A heavier naval salvo struck the harbor again. A warehouse roof collapsed inward. Smoke thickened along the waterfront.

Hussein Dey walked toward the central table where maps of the city lay spread.

"How many guns remain operational?" he asked.

Ibrahim considered.

"Perhaps a dozen that can still fire. But they cannot reach the French positions in strength. Every time they reveal themselves, they draw immediate response."

"And the men?"

"Morale is strained," Mustapha said. "They saw what happened at Staouéli. They see what is happening now."

A shell detonated somewhere near the eastern quarter. The sound came closer this time.

Ibrahim lowered his voice.

"If the French advance from the fortress while the bombardment continues, we will face them with broken walls and exhausted men."

Hussein Dey placed both hands on the table.

"What do they want?"

Mustapha looked up.

"They want to break us," he said.

"No," Hussein Dey replied. "Beyond that."

Ibrahim answered.

"They issued an ultimatum before landing. Reparations. An end to piracy against their shipping. Formal guarantees of safe passage."

Another shell struck closer. The chamber trembled.

Hussein Dey did not look toward the window this time.

"If we refuse?"

"They continue," Ibrahim said.

"If we attempt a counterattack?"

"We lose more men."

The bombardment rolled on and it was not giving them a break.

Hussein Dey straightened. "If we negotiate, we might preserve the city."

Mustapha did not object.

Ibrahim exhaled slowly.

"They may demand occupation."

"Perhaps," Hussein Dey said. "Or perhaps they want tribute and compliance."

The next impact struck near the lower wall again. Dust filtered down from the ceiling.

"We cannot match their guns," Mustapha said. "And we cannot reach their fleet."

Hussein Dey nodded once.

"Prepare an envoy."

Both men looked at him. 𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒆𝙬𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝒎

"We will test their terms," he continued. "Raise a white flag from the western tower. Send a delegation under protection."

"Who will go?" Ibrahim asked.

Hussein Dey considered.

"Ahmed el-Kebir," he said. "He knows French. He has dealt with their merchants before."

Mustapha nodded.

"He will be recognized."

"And send him with written acknowledgment," Hussein Dey added. "We are prepared to discuss reparations and the cessation of maritime raids, apology to their Emperor, everything."

Ibrahim moved toward the doorway.

"I will order the flag raised."

Within minutes, men climbed the battered western tower and hoisted a white cloth high above the smoke.

From the French position, Marshal Davout saw the white flag fluttering in the wind. He sighed, they finally realized that it is futile to mount an offensive or a defense.

"Looks like they are prepared to negotiate, Marshal," Colonel Valence said.

"They should be, or their city would be turned into smithereens if they continue fighting us."

"That’s true," Valence chuckled. "Should we order our men to stop firing, Sire?"

Marshal Davout peered through his field glass one more time to see if they were planning something deceitful. Fortunately, he found no signs. The white flag was genuine, they wanted to end the conflict.

"Yes, order a cease fire to all units. We will receive their envoy."

Ahmed el-Kebir departed through the western gate with two attendants. A white banner fixed to a pole rose above them as they stepped into the open ground between the city and the French lines.

He walked steadily despite the broken earth around him. He passed shattered stone from the outer wall and the remains of artillery positions struck earlier.

At the French forward line, he halted.

An officer approached under escort.

"Good day, I’m Ahmed el-Kebir. I am an envoy representing the Regency of Algiers. Under Dey’s command, I am to discuss with you the terms of cessation of hostilities between us," he introduced himself in fluent French.