Simon Scarrow: Fire and Sword

‘It will be like last time,’ she breathed. ‘No, better than last time we were together in Italy. I swear it.’

Napoleon softly grazed his lips down the arc of her neck towards the soft mound of her breast, and out of the corner of his eye he saw from the clock ticking above the fire that there would be time to make love before dressing for dinner with his family.

Usually Napoleon regarded eating as a necessary evil and ate swiftly before returning to his work. But not tonight. Around the table sat his wife, his brothers Joseph and Lucien, his sisters Caroline and Pauline, and at the far end of the table his mother, Letizia.When the main course was served and the servants had retreated from the room and quietly closed the doors behind them, Caroline cleared her throat.

‘I hear you are to visit Italy.’

Josephine started a little at the statement and glanced hurriedly at Napoleon, who forced himself to keep his surprise in check as he asked, ‘Where did you hear that?’

‘From my husband. Joachim had it from his chief of staff.’

‘Really?’ Napoleon raised an eyebrow. Marshal Joachim Murat was the Emperor’s most talented cavalry commander, but like most of his kind he was inclined to swagger about and be indiscreet. If he had heard the news of the pending tour of Italy, then there was every chance that it was the talk of half the salons in Paris.

He nodded at his sister. ‘Very well then, since the secret is out, yes, it is true. I intend to make a tour of our territories in Italy.’

‘Is it also true that you are to be crowned King of Italy?’

That could only have come from Talleyrand, Napoleon realised at once. But why would he spread knowledge of Napoleon’s plans? Perhaps to forewarn any would-be assassins? The thought was no sooner in his head than Napoleon forced himself to dismiss it. Since the bloody attempt on his life four years earlier he had been inclined to see threats everywhere, but he realised he could not run his life effectively if he lived in a state of fear.

‘It is true, Caroline.’

At the other end of the table his mother laughed humourlessly. ‘Another coronation? Do you collect crowns, my son?’

Napoleon laughed, and the others followed suit for a moment, finally clearing the air of some of the tension that had hung over the dinner table since the meal had begun.

‘I am prepared to collect crowns when it is expedient to do so, Mother. However, it would be unseemly to overindulge in such acquisitions.’

‘Especially for one who was such an ardent Jacobin not so many years ago,’ Lucien added quietly.

Napoleon turned to his younger brother with a weary expression. Lucien had always been the most radical of his siblings, dangerously so.

Lucien sipped his wine and continued. ‘Do you remember, brother, when we overthrew the Directory and you became First Consul?’

‘I do.’

‘And do you recall that I drew my sword and swore an oath that if ever you betrayed France and became a tyrant I would plunge that blade into your heart myself ?’

‘I remember it.’

‘Now you are Emperor, and about to take another crown.’ He raised his glass in mock salute. ‘That makes rather a mockery of my oath, wouldn’t you say?’

‘It would, if I had become a tyrant,’ Napoleon replied evenly.‘But the people voted for me to become Emperor, and that makes me the embodiment of their will. In that case, I am no tyrant, and your honour is intact.’

‘A lawyer would find no problem with that form of words,’ Lucien conceded. ‘But my oath is honoured in the letter rather than the spirit.’

‘As you will, Lucien. But times have changed. The revolution was descending into chaos before we ended the Directory. Since then France has had order.’

‘True, but we have traded order for freedom.’

‘That may be, but do you really think it matters to the vast majority of the people? They need employment.They need bread, and more than anything they need a sense of stability. All of which it is my intention to provide. It all depends on what you mean by freedom, Lucien.’ Napoleon paused as his mind enlarged on the idea. ‘For you, and me, and those who frequent the salons, it is an ideal, and like all ideals it is a luxury. The only freedom that matters to the common people is the freedom from suffering.’

Lucien frowned, shook his head and stared down at the food on his gilt-edged plate.‘If men are not to aspire to ideals, Napoleon, then what distinguishes us from common beasts?’

‘There is always a place for ideals, and for those men who will discuss them and advance their cause. But such men are scarce and must be nurtured and raised up to privileged positions.’

‘In other words they must become aristocrats. It would seem that you are advocating a return to the evils of the Bourbons’ regime.’

Napoleon shrugged. ‘As long as a man has talent I won’t hold his background against him, even if he is a stuck-up prick like Talleyrand.’

Joseph laughed, and after glancing round at the shocked expressions on the faces of the women, Napoleon joined in.

Even Lucien smiled at the remark. ‘You have the measure of that man, brother.’

They raised their glasses to each other and took another draught of wine.

Letizia cleared her throat. ‘Of course, it is very fine that you provide such rewards for talented men, but how can you ensure that they will remain loyal to the new order? Can you trust men who would be so easily dazzled by the baubles you offer them?’

‘Of course, Mother. What greater spur to loyalty is there than the prospect of reward for good service?’

‘Family,’ she replied at once.‘There is no greater bond of loyalty than blood.’

Napoleon nodded. ‘And that is why I must elevate my family and friends to high positions in France, and in time place them amongst the ruling houses of the European powers, and perhaps on thrones of their own.’

‘You cannot be serious.’ Joseph chuckled. ‘You would make me a king?’

‘One day perhaps, and sooner than you might think.’

‘Preposterous!’ Joseph shook his head. ‘I was not born to be a king, any more than Lucien here, or Louis or Jérôme.’

‘I disagree,’ Napoleon replied. ‘Any one of my brothers is worth ten tsars, or any ruler placed on a throne by right of birth. Why, one only needs to look to Britain to see the proof of that. King George is insane, and his heir is an irresponsible libertine. Are there not a hundred, a thousand, better men in Britain with the ability to rule? So, when the time comes, I will make kings of you all.’

‘Whether we wish it or not?’ asked Lucien.

‘I need allies I can trust. As Mother says, what better bond is there than blood? Are you with me?’

Lucien thought for a moment, and shrugged. ‘You are my brother. Of course I am with you. As long as you are no tyrant.’

‘And you, Joseph?’

His older brother grinned and raised his glass. ‘To the bitter end.’

‘The only end I recognise is everlasting glory.’

‘Everlasting?’ Letizia pursed her lips and darted a glance at Josephine. ‘That will only happen if you produce a successor.Without an heir the whole thing falls apart.’

‘There will be an heir,’ Napoleon said firmly. ‘It’s just a matter of time.’

‘Time is very much the issue,’ his mother said. ‘You have been married for over ten years now. Josephine, remind me. How old are you?’

The Empress winced but did not reply as Letizia leaned towards her and tapped her finger on the table. ‘Forty-two, I seem to recall. Am I right?’

Josephine nodded.

‘Well, forgive me, my dear, but isn’t that a little late for child-bearing? ’

Napoleon rushed to his wife’s defence. ‘Older women have given birth to healthy children, Mother. There’s still time.’