Simon Scarrow - Fire and Sword

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The third in this epic quartet of novels focusing on two giants of European history, Wellington and Napoleon. In the early years of the nineteenth century, Arthur Wellesley (elevated to Viscount Wellington in the course of the novel) and Napoleon Bonaparte are well-established as men of military genius. Wellesley has returned from India, where his skill and bravery made a remarkable impression on his superiors. He faces trials and tribulations on the political scene before becoming embroiled militarily in Copenhagen, then Portugal and finally Spain. Napoleon, established as Emperor, is cementing his control on Europe, intending finally to crush his hated foe across the Channel: Britain. The time is fast approaching when Wellington and Napoleon will come face to face in confrontation and only one man can emerge victorious...

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As Talleyrand set out the harsh terms demanded by his Emperor as the price of peace with Prussia, Frederick William’s envoys were shocked by the scale of the humiliation being heaped upon their nation. Their protests were met with cold disdain by the French diplomats, and on the sixth day of July the Prussians decided to try a more personal appeal for mercy.

Napoleon was seated at his desk, reading through the latest correspondence to reach imperial headquarters, when a clerk entered and proffered a sealed letter.

‘What’s this?’ Napoleon looked up irritably. ‘Why has it not been opened?’

Then he saw the royal seal of Prussia neatly applied to the folded paper. He took it and waved the clerk away. It had been addressed to ‘his imperial majesty, Napoleon, for his personal attention’, in a neat, fine hand. He broke the seal and opened the letter.

Your imperial majesty, it is a tragedy that our two nations should have been locked in so bitter a struggle for so many months. Now that peace is at hand Prussia looks forward to a new era of friendship with France. In token of this, I wonder if I might meet with you in person to convince you of the lasting benefits of an equitable peace between our nations. I look forward to your response.

Your faithful friend, Louise, Queen of Prussia.

‘Well, well,’ Napoleon smiled. ‘So it has come to this.’

He stood and strode across the room to the open door and clicked his fingers at his chief clerk. ‘Méneval, send for the Master of the Imperial Household.’

‘Yes, sire.’

‘Tell him we are entertaining tonight. The best dinner service and the finest wines and food will be required.’

There was no polite preamble to the dinner. Queen Louise was shown into a private dining room at imperial headquarters. A small table occupied the centre of the carpeted room, covered with a lace cloth and set with fine china, glasses and cutlery from the imperial household.The room was lit by a single chandelier hanging above the table, which bathed the room in a soft orange glow. The Queen was shown to her seat by a footman and then left alone to await the Emperor, who, she was told, was completing his orders for yet another military review to be held the following morning. He would not be long, she was assured.

And so she sat, quite still and expressionless, as the clock ticked on the mantelpiece. The windows of the dining room were open and the faintest of breezes wafted in, just enough to cause the candles to flicker fractionally from time to time. At length Louise rose from her seat and went to the window. Below lay a small courtyard and the scent of herbs drifted up to her. Beyond the wall of the courtyard lay open fields, now covered with tents and the crude bivouacs erected by the French soldiers. Their campfires spread across the landscape like a vast constellation of twinkling red stars.

‘An impressive sight, is it not?’

She gasped with surprise and whirled round, hand clutched to her throat. Napoleon had entered and trodden quietly across to the table, where he now stood behind her chair, hands resting on the seat back. He stared back at her, frankly appraising her looks. The Queen of Prussia was a slender woman with black hair and strong, almost masculine features. For all that there was a cold, ethereal beauty about her, Napoleon conceded. He smiled. ‘I am sorry. I did not mean to startle you.’

‘Really?’ She arched an eyebrow. ‘I rather think that was precisely what you meant to do.’

‘Oh? And why would I do that?’

‘You employ the same strategy off the battlefield as you do on it.You move quickly, achieve surprise and disconcert your enemy.’

‘But you are not my enemy. I do not make war on women, your majesty.’ Napoleon laughed. ‘But I admit that you have a good grasp of my method of waging war.’

‘It has been a hard lesson,’ she replied coldly.‘One which has cost the lives of many of our subjects.’

‘Well, the war is over, and our meal is about to begin. Please?’ Napoleon nodded to the chair she had been sitting on. After a slight pause, the Prussian Queen glided back across the room and sat down, allowing Napoleon to edge her chair a little closer to the table.Then he took his place opposite, flicked his napkin loose and laid it across his thighs. ‘I took the liberty of sending my chef to your quarters to discover what food appeals to your palate. How is your accommodation, by the way?’

‘It is as good as most we have had to endure for several months.’

Napoleon shrugged. ‘If your husband had come to terms after Jena you would still have the comforts of your palace in Berlin. But then, I imagine that you would not let your husband come to terms. My ambassador to Berlin told me how much Frederick William depends upon your advice. Other men have even said that you are the true ruler of Prussia.’

‘Other men are fools,’ she replied flatly. ‘My husband is a good man and a sound ruler. But he is inclined to caution in dealing with a crisis. I merely acted as a spur to that course of action he knew he must take.’

‘You are too modest, madam.’ Napoleon stared at her. ‘I sense that you are a far more formidable woman than you choose to appear.’

‘Perhaps.’ She smiled, showing a fine set of strong white teeth. ‘For my part I sense that you are a far more sensitive man than your reputation as an all-conquering general would imply. Sensual even.’

‘Sensual?’ Napoleon tipped his head slightly to one side. ‘It’s not a word I have often heard used to describe me.’

‘You surround yourself with soldiers, so that is hardly surprising.’

They were interrupted by the arrival of the first course, a thin soup of duck and herbs, and sat in silence while the steward carefully poured a ladleful into each of their bowls and then retired. Napoleon watched as his guest delicately filled her spoon and raised it to her lips, sipping the hot liquid with caution. ‘Do you like it?’

Louise looked at him. ‘A touch too much garlic, perhaps, but palatable.’

‘I am so pleased.’ Napoleon took a mouthful, and winced at the scalding sensation in his mouth. He glanced up to see her smiling at him, and mumbled an apology. ‘I am sorry, it was hot. Painful.’ He took a sip of wine to cool his tongue.

‘Yes.The trick is not to let anyone know that it hurts.’

Napoleon lowered his spoon for a while, to let the soup cool. ‘Tell me, your majesty.Why are you here? Why did you request to see me in this intimate manner? Did your husband send you to try to charm me?’

‘He does not approve of the meeting,’ she replied. ‘I insisted. I hope to discuss the question of the terms you demand for peace with Prussia.’

‘The terms are already being discussed, by our diplomats.’

‘Diplomats . . .’ She uttered the word with contempt. ‘They talk and talk and resolve little in the longest possible time.’

‘You have Talleyrand precisely.’ Napoleon laughed.

Louise’s expression remained serious. ‘I wished to negotiate more directly with you.’

‘Negotiate? What is there to negotiate? You already know my terms. I will not change them. Not even for you, your majesty.’

‘But you must realise that your demands go too far. You seek to reduce Prussia to the status of a minor power. You would shame us before the rest of the world.’

‘No more than you have shamed yourselves already.’

She was silent for a moment, and then continued in a calm tone, ‘I accept that my husband vacillated before Austerlitz. If I had been king then Prussia would have fought alongside your enemies from the outset.’

‘And very likely you would have defeated me. I must make certain that Prussia is incapable of challenging France for many years to come. That is why I do not wish to have your husband removed from the throne. His presence there is as good a guarantee of peace as I could wish for. If he was weak before you decided to wage war against France, then he will be even more afraid now. I doubt that you, even with your undeniable charms and force of personality, will be able to persuade him to make war again.’

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