‘You exaggerate my capabilities as I, perhaps, exaggerate yours. I am a mere student of the past who hopes it might provide answers for the future. What did Egyptian priests know that has been lost until now? Our liberation has opened the way to fuse the technology of the West with the wisdom of the East.’
‘Yet wisdom of what, Count?’ rumbled General Dumas past a mouthful of food. He ate like he rode, at full gallop. ‘I don’t see it in the streets of Cairo. And the scholars, be they scientists or sorcerers, haven’t accomplished much. They eat, talk, and scribble.’
The officers laughed. Academics were viewed with scepticism, and soldiers felt the savants were pursuing pointless aims, pinning the army in Egypt.
‘That is unfair to our savants, General,’ Bonaparte corrected. ‘Monge and Berthollet aimed a crucial cannon shot in the river battle. Gage has proven his marksmanship with his longrifle. The scientists stood with the infantry in the squares. Plans are underway for windmills, canals, factories, and foundries. Conte plans to inflate one of his balloons! We soldiers begin liberation, but it is the scholars who fulfil it. We win a battle, but they conquer the mind.’
‘So leave them to it and let’s go home.’ Dumas went back to a drumstick.
‘The ancient priests were equally useful,’ Silano said mildly. ‘They were healers and lawgivers. The Egyptians had spells to heal the sick, win the heart of a lover, ward off evil, and acquire wealth. We of the Egyptian Rite have seen spells influence weather, provide invulnerability to harm, and cure the dying. Even more may be learnt, I hope, now that we control the cradle of civilisation.’
‘You’re promoting witchcraft,’ Dumas warned. ‘Be careful with your soul.’
‘Learning is not witchcraft. It puts tools in soldiers’ hands.’
‘Sabre and pistol have served well enough up to now.’
‘And where did gunpowder come from, but from experiments with alchemy?’
Dumas belched in reply. The general was huge, slightly drunk, and a hothead. Maybe he would get rid of Silano for me.
‘I am promoting the tapping of unseen powers, like electricity,’ Silano went on smoothly, nodding at me. ‘What is this mysterious force we can observe simply by rubbing amber? Are there energies that animate the world? Can we transform base elements to more valuable ones? Mentors like Cagliostro, Kolmer, and Saint-Germain led the way. Monsieur Gage can apply the insights of the great Franklin…’
‘Ha!’ Dumas interrupted. ‘Cagliostro was exposed as a fraud in half a dozen countries. Invulnerable to harm?’ He put his hand on his heavy cavalry sabre and began to pull. ‘Try a spell against this. ’
Yet before he could draw there was a blur of motion and Silano had the point of his rapier against the general’s fist. It was like the flicker of a hummingbird wing, and the air hummed from the swift arc of his drawn sword. ‘I don’t need magic to win a mere duel,’ the count said with quiet warning.
The room had gone silent, stunned by his speed.
‘Put your swords away, both of you,’ Napoleon finally ordered.
‘Of course.’ Silano sheathed his slim blade almost as quickly as he’d drawn it.
Dumas scowled but let his sabre drop back into its scabbard. ‘So you rely on steel like the rest of us,’ he muttered.
‘Are you challenging my other powers as well?’
‘I’d like to see them.’
‘The soul of science is sceptical test,’ the chemist Berthollet agreed. ‘It is one thing to claim magic and another to perform it, Count Silano. I admire your spirit of enquiry, but extraordinary claims demand extraordinary proof.’
‘Perhaps I should levitate the pyramids.’
‘That would impress all of us, I’m sure.’
‘And yet scientific discovery is a gradual process of experimentation and evidence,’ Silano went on. ‘So it is with magic and ancient powers. I do hope to levitate pyramids, become invulnerable to bullets, or achieve immortality, but at the moment I am a mere investigator, like you savants. That is why I have made the long journey to Egypt after enquiries in Rome, Constantinople, and Jerusalem. The American there has a medallion that may prove useful to my research, if he will let me study it.’
Heads swung to me. I shook my head. ‘It is archaeology, not magic, and not for alchemical experiment.’
‘For study, I said.’
‘Which real savants are providing. Their methods are credible. The Egyptian Rite is not.’
The count had the look of a teacher disappointed in a pupil. ‘Are you calling me a liar, monsieur?’
‘No, I am,’ Dumas interrupted again, throwing down his bone. ‘A fraud, a hypocrite, and a charlatan. I have no use for magicians, alchemists, savants, gypsies, or priests. You come here in robe and turban like a Marseille clown and talk of magic, but I see you sawing your meat like the rest of us. Flick that little needle of yours all you want, but let’s test it in real battle against real sabres. I respect men who fight or build, not those who talk and fantasise.’
Now Silano’s eyes flickered with a dangerous annoyance. ‘You have impugned my honour and dignity, General. Perhaps I should challenge you.’
The room stirred with anticipation. Silano had a reputation as a deadly duelist, having slain at least two foes in Paris. Yet Dumas was a Goliath.
‘And perhaps I should accept your challenge,’ the general growled.
‘Dueling is forbidden,’ Napoleon snapped. ‘Both of you know that. If either tries it, I will have you both shot.’
‘So you are safe for now,’ Dumas said to the count. ‘But you’d better find your magic spells, because when we return to France…’
‘Why wait?’ Silano said. ‘May I suggest a different contest? Our esteemed chemist has called for sceptical test, so let me propose one. For dinner tomorrow, let me bring a small suckling pig I have shipped from France. As you know, the Muslims will have nothing to do with the animal; its only caretaker is me. You imply that I have no powers. Let me then, two hours before dinner, present you with the pig to prepare in any way you desire: roasted, boiled, baked, or fried. I will not come near it until it is served. You will cut the meal into four equal parts, and serve to me whichever quarter you prefer. You will eat another portion yourself.’
‘What is the point of this nonsense?’ Dumas asked.
‘The day after this dinner, one of four things will happen: either we will both be dead or neither of us will be dead; or I will be dead and you will not; or you will be dead and I will not. Of these four chances I will give you three and bet five thousand francs that, the day after the meal, you will be dead and I will be well.’
There was silence at the table. Dumas looked flustered. ‘That is one of Cagliostro’s old wagers.’
‘Which none of his enemies ever accepted. Here is your chance to be the first, General. Do you doubt my powers enough to dine with me tomorrow?’
‘You’ll try some kind of trickery or magic!’
‘Which you said I can’t perform. Prove it.’
Dumas looked from one to the other of us. In a fight he was confident, but this?
‘Dueling is prohibited, but this bet I would like to see,’ Bonaparte said. He was enjoying the torment of a general who’d challenged him on the march.
‘He would poison me with sleight of hand, I know it.’
Silano spread his arms wide, sensing victory. ‘You can search me from head to toe before we sit down to eat, General.’
Dumas gave in. ‘Bah. I wouldn’t dine with you if you were Jesus, the devil, or the last man on earth.’ He stood, shoving his chair back. ‘Coddle his investigations if you must,’ he addressed the room, ‘but I swear to you there’s nothing in this damned desert but a bunch of old rock. You’ll regret listening to these hangers-on, be it this charlatan or the American leech.’ And with that he stormed out of the room.