Armand Cabasson - Wolf Hunt

Relmyer came over to Margont, sword still in hand. Did he never lay it aside? In spite of his intensive training, he still looked energetic, not showing the slightest sign of fatigue.

‘Dear friend! Can I talk to you a moment in private?’

Saber stiffened, trying not to show his disappointment and jealousy. The other two men moved off together, leaving the admirers to rejoin their battalions.

‘Before you say anything, I must warn you, you’re in danger,’ declared Margont. ‘If it is indeed the man we’re looking for who set fire to the ruins of that farm, he is being exceptionally careful. If he knows that you went back there, he might well try to kill you. So you must always have an escort when you leave camp.’

Relmyer sheathed his sword, noisily clanging the hilt against the scabbard.

‘I am my own escort.’

‘I hope you’ll take me seriously. Can we go and visit your old orphanage now?’

‘Unfortunately I’m not welcome there. They were very angry with me for stirring up trouble before I left in 1804. It has to be said that, out of frustration, I did become aggressive. I actually struck the man in charge of the investigation. I was angry with everyone.’ His words plunged him into despair, and his hand came to rest on his sabre, his support.

‘We’re conducting an inquiry - that gives us rights,’ decreed Margont.

Relmyer’s eyelids drooped tiredly. ‘Of course, but it’s not as simple as that. Madame Blanken, narrow-minded, insensitive old witch, is still the director of Lesdorf Orphanage. As I’ve told you she has connections with the Viennese aristocracy. If you go ferreting around in her back yard, she won’t be content with whacking you with her broom. Her outcry will bring down much more serious consequences on us.’

Relmyer went on in a tone that anger rendered as cutting as sword strokes, ‘The Emperor wants Vienna to continue undisturbed, so anyone who causes trouble is heavily punished. If a dozen countesses and wives of Austrian nobility complain about us, accusing us of sowing panic in an orphanage, we’ll be summarily arrested. Believe me, La Blanken has a long arm and an effective fist.’

Margont backed down. Better to take time to inform yourself about a potential enemy before confronting them.

‘In any case, without Madame Blanken’s co-operation, our investigations will be fruitless,’ Relmyer emphasised. ‘That’s why I propose that we take a different approach. I sent one of my hussars to Luise with a note, asking her to try to organise a meeting with Madame Blanken for us. She has answered saying that her parents are giving a ball. Napoleon is pressurising the Viennese to organise receptions. The Emperor wants to divert his officers and to show that he is so confident of victory that he regularly allows them to waste time in worldly discourse. He even invited actors from Paris to appear in the theatre of Chateau de Schonbrunn, where he has taken up residence. The Mitterburgs agreed because, like many Austrians, they are trying to have a foot in both camps. If Archduke Charles wins, they will be able to say they were forced to give the soirée, which is true. And if it’s Napoleon who wins the war, the Mitterburgs’ business will continue to flourish ...’

Margont nodded.

‘Franco-Austrian relations certainly seem to be complex, no one can make head nor tale of them! During the Revolution and the Consulate, Austria and France were enemies. Then after Austerlitz they were reconciled and French soldiers were told they must not criticise the Austrians because they were our friends. Today Austria is at war with us again. But no doubt, if Napoleon triumphs, Austria will hasten to ally herself with him once more, to soften his anger and limit the extent of his sanctions!’

Relmyer appreciated the irony of these constant reversals of alliance.

‘Many Austrians are patriots,’ he declared, ‘but there are others who run with the hare and hunt with the hounds. And those last are only following their emperor, Francis I, who turns his coat after each defeat.’

At that, he started to laugh at the insolence of his own behaviour. ‘But let’s get back to our investigation. Madame Blanken will be invited. She is always to be found at that type of reception. What's more, Luise tells me she’s one of those whose allegiance goes both ways. During the ball we will be able to talk to her. Perhaps you will succeed in buttering her up and interrogating her? Are you still listening?’

‘Absolutely,’ replied Margont.

He was listening to Relmyer, but at the same time thinking about Luise. So he was going to see her again. Would she have the same effect on him as the first time he met her?

The soirée is going to be on 31 May. We will just about have time to prepare our ceremonial uniforms. I would be delighted if Lefine could also come. Without him, we—’ He did not finish the sentence. ‘And the famous Piquebois!’ he exclaimed. ‘He’s a former hussar, so I say he’s one of us. Apart from those two, do you have any other friends?’

Margont looked over at the figure hanging about under a weeping willow.

‘Lieutenant Saber, who’s kicking his heels over there, and Medical Officer Brémond.’

'They will all be welcome! You'll see what Viennese balls are like. They’re pure magic.’

CHAPTER 9

MARGONT went to the soirée accompanied by Lefine, Jean-Quenin Brémond and Relmyer. Saber and Piquebois were already there, having been released from duty earlier.

Their nocturnal journey across Vienna was slightly surreal. The darkness accentuated the majesty of the buildings and Margont thought he could make out the ghost of the Holy Roman Empire, which had been mortally wounded at Austerlitz but had lingered on until July 1806. Napoleon had finished it off by dismembering it, thus weakening Austria and creating the Confederation of the Rhine, a constellation of German states that orbited around France. Vienna was occidental clearly, yet the Orient also manifested itself without it being clear exactly how. The Turks had long since left Vienna, but the city still bore their trace, the imprint of their extraordinary culture. The long grandiose succession of facades was interrupted at regular intervals by enormous black holes. The streets and avenues bore the scars of the almost two

thousand cannonballs and shells that had rained down on them during the night of n May. The capital had resisted as best it could with its fifteen thousand soldiers and some of its population. Napoleon was adept at showing magnanimity towards those who surrendered to him, but he was fearsome in the face of any glimpse of resistance. After the first deluge of missiles and their fiery aftermath had branded the night like red-hot iron, the Emperor had set himself to annihilate the city in thirty-six hours of widespread bombardment. Vienna had capitulated. Napoleon immediately had a proclamation read to his soldiers announcing that he was giving the ‘good inhabitants’ of Vienna his ‘special protection’. The text further stipulated that ‘wicked troublemakers’ would be subject to ‘exemplary justice’.

Vienna was a strange mixture of past and present, West and East, monuments and ruins, grandeur and war damage - a melting pot propitious for every sort of concoction.

The Mitterburgs’ house stood in a garden enclosed by an iron railing. The vast edifice, with its ochre facade, was reminiscent of a Venetian palace washed by a lagoon. Relmyer explained that the Mitterburgs had made their fortune in the coffee trade. The grandfather, now dead, was so fond of the beverage that he had made it his career. He had taken the trouble to learn Turkish so that he could negotiate his imports more easily, between the two Austro-Turkish wars. The drink became increasingly popular. Cafes sprang up across Europe and soldiers were annoyed when they were unable to get hold of it...