Simon Scarrow - Fire and Sword

‘I see.’ Louise nodded, and sipped again from her spoon. ‘You must know that the terms you have demanded of Prussia are sure to win you nothing but the hatred of our people.’

‘What do I care?’ Napoleon shrugged. ‘ Vae victis .’

They ate in silence for a few minutes before Louise looked up again. ‘Has it occurred to you that you might well need the friendship of Prussia one day?’

‘Yes. There may be a time when I need all the friends I can get. But as long as you sit by the side of your husband and drip your poison into his ear, then I suspect that I need not look to Prussia for any hope of salvation. So what have I to lose by making the terms as harsh as possible?’

Queen Louise lowered her spoon, got up from her chair and walked slowly round the table until she was at his side. Napoleon instinctively lowered his spoon, as he felt his body tense at her closeness. She kneeled beside his chair and took his hand. She spoke softly. ‘Your imperial majesty. If I need to I will beg you not to destroy Prussia. On my hands and knees if you say so.’

She grazed her lips over the back of his hand and Napoleon felt a bolt of fire streak up his arm. For an instant he closed his eyes, relishing the feeling, and the Prussian Queen continued to play her lips over the back of his hand before she turned it over slowly and kissed his palm with infinite tenderness.

‘There is nothing I would not do for my country,’ she whispered. ‘Just ask me, your majesty, and I will do anything for you.’

‘Anything?’

‘Yes. Anything.’ She moved her head so that her lips closed softly round the end of his middle finger and he felt her teeth press gently into his skin. He felt his sex stirring and shifted in his chair as he indulged the sensation.Then cold reason reasserted itself and he firmly pulled his hand away from her and opened his eyes. She was looking up at him with fierce intensity blazing in her brown eyes. Napoleon chuckled.

‘Good God, but you are beautiful. Now I understand why Frederick William is your slave. However, I will not sacrifice the needs of France for the sake of a good fuck, your majesty.’

She stood up and backed away, her eyes narrowing.‘You bastard,’ she muttered. ‘You cold, cruel, contemptible bastard.’

Napoleon smiled faintly and raised an eyebrow. ‘As you say.’

‘Truly, you are a tyrant. I pray that I live to see the day when you are brought down and destroyed.’

‘Of course you do.You are my enemy. I am your conqueror. It is only natural for you to hate me. Just as long as you and your people fear me, I shall be content. Now then, may we continue our meal?’

The Queen glanced at her soup and her lip curled. ‘I would rather eat the scraps refused by swine.’

‘Then I suggest you return to your husband and share his repast, before you share his bed. I have no need for you. No desire. Now you may leave me.’

She glared at him, and then with a swirl of her skirts she turned and strode for the door. Wrenching it open, she rushed through and slammed it behind her. Napoleon stared after her for a moment, then picked up his spoon and finished his soup.

The following day, Napoleon and Alexander signed the peace treaty in the negotiation chamber before an audience of dignitaries. Then Talleyrand read out the public version of the treaty, which expressed the great pleasure of both leaders that their countries were no longer at war. Both the Emperor and the Tsar looked forward to sharing the bounties of peace and prosperity. Napoleon seemed to listen indulgently and nodded his head at the applause that filled the chamber, but his mind was dwelling on the details of the secret articles that had been agreed and signed. Now, at last, he could turn all his attention towards crushing Britain. With Russia as his ally and all Europe under his sway, he could deny Britain access to her markets, and slowly but surely she would be starved into defeat.

Two more days passed before Napoleon deigned to sign the peace agreement with Prussia, shortly before he departed for France.This time the Prussian witnesses to the signature stood in mute despair as their King picked up his pen, dipped it in the ink pot and then held it poised above the treaty as he chewed his lip. Talleyrand leaned forward and indicated the blank space at the foot of the document.

‘If your majesty would be kind enough to sign there?’

Frederick William nodded, then lowered the pen to the paper and wrote his name slowly, as if each letter was agony to write. At the end he lowered the pen and sat back abruptly, staring straight ahead, refusing to look at the French Emperor sitting at his side. Talleyrand slid the treaty across the table towards Napoleon. Behind a mask of regal calm Napoleon felt consumed by the pleasure of his triumph. He took up his pen, dipped it in the ink and signed the treaty, ending with a flamboyant flourish.The French officers and diplomats at once burst into applause, with Ney stamping his foot as he roared out ‘Bravo! Bravo!’ at the top of his voice.

There was a dull scrape as the Prussian King slid his chair back and abruptly rose from his seat and strode towards the door. As soon as he had left the room, his staff and courtiers filed out behind him, their ears deafened by the thunderous celebration of the French.

Talleyrand leaned close to his ear and said, ‘Congratulations, sire.’

‘Thank you.’

‘I pray that you have won us a lasting peace.’

Napoleon turned to look up at his foreign minister. ‘What is there to pray for? Prussia is humiliated, and I have the Tsar wrapped round my little finger. Trust me, my dear Talleyrand. Russia has been tamed, completely.’

Chapter 33

The streets of Paris echoed with the sound of the salute being fired from the heights of Montmartre.Tens of thousands of people lined the route of the procession and waved coloured ribbons and tricolour flags the instant they caught sight of the head of the imperial convoy. A cuirassier regiment led the way, breastplates sparkling in the bright sunshine as their glossy mounts clattered over the cobbles. Behind them came a battery of the Guard artillery, caissons and gun carriages freshly painted and every brass fitting polished to perfection.The crews sat erect in their best uniforms as the wheels rumbled beneath them. Then came a battalion of the Old Guard, their bearskins making every man look like a formidable giant. Two companies of light infantry followed, bearing captured enemy standards. A short distance behind came the imperial carriage bearing the Emperor and Empress, and immediately behind them rode the marshals who had fought in the long campaign to subdue Prussia and Russia.

At the sight of Napoleon the cheering of the crowd increased in a deafening crescendo that drowned out even the sound of the salute being fired by the guns on Montmartre. Napoleon was sitting on a large cushion to elevate him above his wife and every now and again he waved to each side of the route, smiling as he acknowledged his people. At his side, Josephine sat still, as she knew that it was not her place to respond to acclaim that she had not won. As the procession turned down the rue St-Honoré and made for the Tuileries, she touched her husband’s leg.

‘Seems that you are the saviour of the nation, my love.’

Napoleon leaned over and kissed her on the cheek, prompting a fresh roar of approval from the crowds. They both laughed and Napoleon lifted his hat and raised it high.

‘I promised them victory and now they have it.’

‘Yes.’ Josephine nodded. ‘But the taste of victory will fade soon enough.The people tire of war.’

‘Nonsense!’ Napoleon flashed a frown at her.‘As long as war provides them with glory and spoils then I can lead the people anywhere.To the ends of the earth, if I should wish it.’