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Authors: Dennis Wheatley

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The Emperor's face suddenly assumed a cunning look. ‘In that no doubt you are right. But that this mission should cause these countries to stir up trouble for the Czar is but one half of my intent. Gardane's instructions are, while in Persia, to explore ways by which, after I have defeated Russia, in alliance with the Shah, we could most rapidly make a descent on India. And who, Breuc, knowing India so well, is better qualified to advise and assist him in such a reconnaissance?'

For Roger to point out that, although he was one of the comparatively few Europeans who had crossed the sub-continent from Calcutta to Bombay, he had no knowledge of one in a hundred of the cities and rivers in that vast territory was, he knew, futile. The Emperor assumed him to be as much an authority on it as a man who had ridden from San Sebastian to Gibraltar would be on Spain. And when Napoleon had formed an opinion on a matter, there was no altering it.

Maintaining his usual deferential and cheerful expression when in his master's presence, but inwardly seething with rage, Roger realised that unless something quite unforeseen occurred, his hopes of luxuriating in the sunshine of the South of France had evaporated into moonshine, and that within a few days he would be on his way to Constantinople.

Nothing unforeseen did occur. On the contrary, the next morning Roger was sent for by Berthier. Like Murat, the Marshal had a passion for gorgeous uniforms, which he designed himself; but, unlike the handsome cavalryman, the ugly little Chief of Staff, with a head much too big for his body, succeeded only in making himself conspicuously grotesque. After congratulating Roger on having regained his freedom, he said:

‘His Majesty tells me that he has ordered you to join General Gardane's mission which is proceeding to the East. He wishes me to inform you of the situation there and what we hope to achieve. The English have been attempting to detach the Turks from their alliance with us. So far they have failed, but the Sultan is having difficulties with his own people, so it is highly desirable that we should strengthen his position and attach him more firmly to us. This we intend to try to do by furnishing him with supplies of modern weapons and, in due course, sending French troops to his support. But Turkey alone is not powerful enough to make serious trouble for the Russians in that theatre, so the arrival here of a mission from the Shah has inspired the Emperor with the idea of bringing about a triple alliance consisting of France, Turkey and Persia.

‘Since the Persians are well disposed towards us and the Russians are their hereditary enemies, there is a good prospect that they would welcome the idea of joining the Turks and depriving the Czar of considerable territories adjacent to their countries while he is fully occupied by us up here in the north.'

‘To put it another way,' Roger said, ‘the intention of our master is to create so much trouble for the Czar in the south that he will be compelled to despatch forces there that will seriously weaken his army opposed to us.'

Berthier nodded his massive head. ‘That is the intention; and, since the Persians have a considerable army of troops who have the reputation of stout fighters, it should succeed.'

‘I pray you may prove right. But, as they are only just emerging from the era of using bows and arrows, I foresee a
few regiments of well-disciplined Russian Grenadiers making short work of attacks by such rabble.'

‘I disagree. If any horsemen in the world are the equal of the Cossacks, it is the Persians. Moreover, it is the intention of the Emperor not only to send large consignments of arms to the Sultan, but also to the Shah; and with them officers qualified to instruct the Generals of those Oriental sovereigns in the most modern methods of waging war.'

With a slightly cynical smile, Roger remarked, ‘I am happy to learn that our master's new preoccupation has not altogether robbed him of the ability to enhance the probable success of his brilliant conceptions by supporting them with practical measures.'

Having no sense of humour, Berthier frowned. ‘His Majesty has laboured indefatigably on behalf of France; so no man is better entitled to a few weeks of relaxation. We come now to the question of India.'

‘Yes. The Emperor mentioned to me his designs upon that country.'

‘So he told me; but without specifying particulars. The Persians have waged war against the northern states of India for even longer than they have against the Russians. Once we have settled with the Czar, it is His Majesty's intention to use them to facilitate our chasing the English out of India.

‘Gardane's officers are to reconnoitre the routes to Delhi from Egypt, Syria and Persia, also the ports on the Red Sea and the Persian Gulf, with a view to expeditions being despatched both by land and sea. The Shah is to be persuaded to form a Corps of twelve thousand picked men, armed with French weapons, who will attack the Russians in Georgia; the bait being held out to him is the permanent annexation of that country. This Corps, later supported by twenty thousand French troops, will form the army for our advance to the East; and it is thought possible that the Mahratta Princes might be induced to join us. If so, we shall have forces of sufficient strength to overcome not only the British, but every other Maharajah who is sufficiently ill-advised to oppose us.'

This grandiose conception made it clear to Roger that, how
ever much of Napoleon's time might be going to dalliance with the little Polish Countess, he still found enough to evolve plans calculated to take his enemies by surprise and fill them with the greatest apprehension.

After a moment Berthier went on. ‘General Gardane is a very able man, and well suited to head such a mission; but His Majesty is of the opinion that you will prove of great assistance to him.'

‘In that he is entirely mistaken,' Roger said earnestly, ‘and I beg you, Marshal, to disabuse his mind of this idea. It is true that I once travelled across India; but of Persia and Turkey I know nothing.'

‘Oh come,
mon Colonel
! How can you possibly say that? Both the Emperor and I are blessed with good memories. I recall that, while you were in Cairo, he had you arrested because you had broken into a Pasha's harem, and made off with a lovely houri who turned out to be no less than a daughter of the late Sultan. Afterwards fortune favoured you and you came to know her—er—intimately.'

‘True,' Roger admitted. ‘But the Princess Zanthé's mother was a French lady, born in Martinique, and Zanthé herself was married when very young to the Sultan's Viceroy of Egypt. While in Constantinople, she had never been allowed outside the seraglio, so from her I learned nothing about the Turkish people—let alone the Sultan's relations with other countries. She was, of course, a cousin of the present Sultan, Selim III, but no more than one of the countless relatives that result from the polygamy practised by these Oriental monarchs.'

Berthier shrugged and spread wide his square-fingered hands with their knobbly knuckles. ‘It is clear to me, Breuc, that you are averse to accompanying General Gardane to the East. But it has been decreed by the Emperor that you should; so that is the end of the matter. As frequently as possible, you will send confidential reports to me upon how matters are progressing. Now, you must forgive me if I terminate our interview, as I have a thousand things requiring my attention.'

His last hope of escaping this new assignment gone, Roger
left the busy little Chief of Staff, and sought out General Gardane, whom he had met on several occasions, but knew only slightly.

The General had already been informed that Roger was to accompany him and, although he naturally had no idea that this additional member of his mission had been charged to make confidential reports on his activities, he talked to him freely and as an equal, knowing Roger to be a member of the Emperor's personal staff. Over several glasses of hay-scented vodka, they chatted for an hour on the situation in the East, and Roger was favourably impressed. Gardane was some years older than himself and, while he had not travelled so widely, appeared to be well informed about conditions in the countries at the eastern end of the Mediterranean. He was, moreover, forceful but well-mannered and urbane, which confirmed Roger's view that Napoleon's practice of frequently sending his more intelligent Generals as Ambassadors—where military matters were concerned—instead of professional diplomats, was a sound one.

To Roger's surprise and chagrin, as they were taking leave of one another, the General said, ‘You are aware, of course, that we shall be setting out first thing tomorrow morning?'

It was the final blow to Roger's hopes that he might yet think of a way to wriggle out of this unwelcome business. He could only bow and reply, ‘
Mon Général
, I look forward to accompanying you.'

Hurrying to the office of the Quartermaster General, he requisitioned everything he could think of that might make his long journey more endurable. In the afternoon, he paid Berthier another visit and secured from him an order on the Paymaster's department. There he drew two hundred Napoleons in gold, which he stowed away in a money belt, and a draft on the French bankers in Constantinople for a further thousand.

That night, unhappy but now resigned, he went early to bed, wondering what this new twist of fate held in store for him.

It was the 12th April when General Gardane's party left no
Finckenstein. It consisted of no fewer than fifty persons: the senior officers were Roger, Colonel Couthon of the Engineers, a lanky, gloomy man; Colonel Ladue of the Artillery, a spry fellow with an impish sense of humour; Lieutenant-Colonel Rideau, a bewhiskered veteran of the Egyptian campaign and Lieutenant-Colonel Montdallion who, a few years earlier, had accompanied General Sebastiani on an exploratory mission in 1802, sent with the object of raising trouble for the British in Algiers, Egypt, Syria and the Ionian Isles. There were a dozen junior officers; the rest were cooks, grooms, servants and interpreters detached from the Turkish and Persian Missions, the greater part of which, after again being received by Napoleon, were to travel in easy stages back to their own countries.

Two days later, Gardane's mission reached Warsaw, where they were to stay a night and supplement the meagre supply of provisions that was all they had been allowed to take with them from Finckenstein. Excusing himself to Gardane, Roger made straight for the ancient Palace which had for centuries housed the Kings of Poland and in which, after the Emperor had left it, Talleyrand had become the master.

After only a short delay, Roger was most warmly received by the ex-Bishop, now His Serene Highness the Prince de Benevento. Immaculate in black silk, lace ruffles and cravat, a square, gold quizzing glass dangling from his neck, and leaning on a jewelled malacca cane, this most potent survivor of the
ancien régime
, now just over fifty-three years of age, limped forward smiling, and said:

‘
Cher ami
. The news that you had survived Eylau reached me only two days ago. I was more delighted than I can say. But I see with concern that you, too, now have a limp.'

Roger returned his smile. ‘If only I can acquire the habit of making it as elegant as that of Your Highness, I'll not complain. I suffered much hardship while I was a prisoner; but that I am still alive and again free is the great thing. How fares it with yourself?'

‘By no means happily. I still rejoice in technically holding the office of His Imperial Majesty's Minister for Foreign
Affairs; but in fact I am become no more than his chief sutler for the Army. Not a week passes but he replies to my recommendations about the foreign policies we should pursue. “I give not a damn for diplomacy. Send me bread, meat, anything you can lay your hands on for my troops, and fodder for the horses.” '

With a laugh, Roger replied, ‘Surely that suits you well? Such contracts should serve greatly in adding to your already considerable fortune.'

Talleyrand sighed. ‘Alas, no. Unlike our friend, Fouché, it goes against my principles to acquire money by selling goods of poor quality to our own army. To support my modest tastes, I have had to make do by accepting now and then a pittance from one or other of our allies to further their interests—if, that is, their interests coincide with those of France.'

Roger glanced round, taking in his old friend's conception of ‘modest tastes'. The room was a lofty, sixty-foot-long salon, with blue walls, gilded panels and a beautifully-painted ceiling, from which hung two large, crystal chandeliers. The carpet was Aubusson, the chairs covered in the finest petit-point. On a huge buhl desk stood a pair of solid gold, six-branched candelabra and, open near one of them, an oval velvet-lined case in which sparkled a fine diamond necklace—doubtless intended as a gift for some lovely Polish lady who had recently become the fastidious statesman's latest mistress. He was, admittedly, living at the moment in commandeered ‘lodgings', but the room was typical of the luxury with which he habitually surrounded himself, and it was well known that the bribes he had extracted from foreign Ambassadors during the past ten years had run into several hundred million francs.

Tinkling a silver hand-bell, Talleyrand went on. ‘You will, I trust, do me the pleasure of dining with me and sleeping here tonight. Then you can tell me all that has befallen you, and in what way I can be of service to you. No doubt you will recall my extreme dislike of work; but, alas, I still have some letters that I needs must glance through before they are despatched. My secretaries are reasonably competent at writing
them for me, but there are times when they do not catch my exact shade of meaning. Meanwhile, I will have you conducted to an apartment, and wine sent up to refresh you after your journey.'

As Roger expressed his thanks, a servant appeared and took him up to a handsomely-furnished suite. There he luxuriated for a while in an enormous marble bath, drank a couple of glasses of champagne and cheerfully demolished a plate of Strasbourg
pâté
sandwiches.

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