The captain lowered his head, gritting his teeth, his whole body trembling.
It wasn't the lashes that he feared—at most, they would confine him to bed for half a month—but the humiliation of being whipped by direct order of the Tsar would follow him for a lifetime!
Paul I glared at him and raised his voice: "You lot have grown so lazy and undisciplined, you can't even carry out an order quickly?!"
"Yes, Your Majesty!" The captain hastily snapped to attention. Before the gendarmes could approach, he turned and strode toward the provost.
Suvorov became rather anxious at once.
He had just confirmed by the banners that the unit training here at Gatchina Palace was a regiment of the Izmailovo Guard—one of the Empire's most elite troops!
And if that officer were to be flogged in public, he would be ruined for good—a commander who's been laughed at by every soldier under him, how could he possibly lead in battle again?
