‘I think you really needed that,’ Pauline smiled shortly afterwards. ‘I take it there weren’t too many available women on campaign?’
‘Not enough to go round. In any case, I was busy fighting a war.’
Pauline was silent for a moment, before she continued softly, ‘Was it as bad as they say? I’ve heard some terrible stories in the last few days.’
‘They’re all true.’ Napoleon rolled off her, made himself comfortable on his side and then rested his head on her soft stomach.‘The Army of the Orient is all but finished.We can hold on for a few more months, maybe a year. But disease and the fighting will see to us all in the end. Unless we quit Egypt.’
‘Quit Egypt? How? We have no ships and the Directory will not send us any more.’ Pauline stroked his head. ‘Anyway, is it so bad here? I’ve never been happier, living in a palace, with a famous general as a lover. All that would be lost if I returned home.’
‘Unless I return to France I will not be a famous general much longer,’ Napoleon replied quietly. ‘I must get back to France. I am needed there.’
‘You’re needed here. I need you. Your men need you. If you left, how long do you think they would last?’
‘France’s need is greater.’
‘Your need, you mean.’
Napoleon shrugged.‘It is the same thing at the end of the day. Or will be.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Nothing.’ Napoleon propped himself up and looked at her with a grin. ‘I need you again.’
‘What a romantic you are.’ Pauline narrowed her eyes. ‘You’ve spent far too much time in the company of that lot.’ She jerked her thumb towards the shutters.
Napoleon chuckled and eased himself on to his back, pulling her over on top of him. As Pauline felt his penis hardening, she ground herself down on him and whispered, ‘Promise me.When you leave Egypt, you’ll take me with you.’
‘Who said I was leaving?’
‘Just promise me.’
‘All right then, I promise.’ Napoleon smiled. ‘Now, no more teasing. Make me forget everything that exists outside this room.’
Just three weeks after the celebrations of the army’s return to Cairo a Turkish fleet, escorted by Sir Sidney Smith’s squadron, anchored in Aboukir Bay and began to land troops. As soon as General Kléber’s messenger arrived he was ushered into Napoleon’s presence. Napoleon glanced through the dispatch and looked up at the dusty messenger.‘You are to return at once. Tell Kléber not to confront them. He is to wait in Alexandria until I join him with the rest of the forces we can spare. He is to avoid battle under any circumstances. Clear?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Then go.’
As the messenger saluted, turned and strode away Napoleon rapped out a series of orders to Berthier to prepare the army to march immediately. They left Cairo the same day that the news had arrived, ten thousand infantry and a thousand cavalry under Murat. They took six days to march up the Nile as far as Rahmaniya and then cut across the desert towards Aboukir. At any moment Napoleon was expecting news that the enemy had marched on Alexandria, yet there was no message from Kléber and Napoleon could not help wondering if that was because Kléber was already under siege, or, worse, had already been overwhelmed. As they drew near to Alexandria, Napoleon rode ahead with his staff until they had Aboukir in view. The bay was filled with Turkish ships, and towering above them were the masts and spars of two warships of the Royal Navy. On the point overlooking the western approach to the bay stood a fortress.
Clearly visible on its ramparts, and teeming across the narrow strip of land that linked the fortress to the mainland, were the enemy forces.
‘It doesn’t look as if they’ve moved since stepping ashore,’ Berthier mused. ‘There must be ten . . . maybe fifteen thousand of them. They could have taken Alexandria with ease. What the hell are they still doing here?’
‘I can’t see any horses,’ Napoleon said as he gazed through his telescope. ‘There’s your answer. Their cavalry must still be at sea.’
‘No cavalry?’ Murat sounded disappointed and Napoleon smiled.
‘Never mind, Murat. You will have to content yourself with the enemy’s infantry. Berthier, go back to the army and order the men to march on Aboukir.We’ll attack as soon as they are in line.’
‘What about Kléber’s division, sir? Shall I send for him?’
‘No. We can’t afford to wait. If any of those ships in the bay are carrying horses, they’ll have a chance to land them if we wait for Kléber.’
Berthier turned his horse and galloped back towards the faint column of dust that marked the head of the French army approaching across the desert. As Napoleon continued to examine the Turkish positions it was clear that they had made extensive additions to the defences of the fortress, and dug three lines of trenches, supported by several bastions, across the neck of land, each of which was defended by thousands of soldiers. Janissaries, Napoleon surmised, if this army had been transported from Turkey.
He lowered his telescope and shook his head. ‘It’s hard to believe that they have just sat on their backsides and handed the initiative to us. What kind of general would be so foolish?’
‘One who is about to be kicked into the sea,’ Murat grinned.
As the French army deployed in front of the first trench the Turkish troops began to beat their drums and the harsh blare of trumpets sounded across the dusty open ground between the armies. Some of the enemy guns, mounted in the nearest bastions, opened fire but the range was long and the heavy iron balls merely kicked up plumes of sand and grit well ahead of the first French line. The moment the last unit was in position Napoleon gave the order to attack, starting with Lannes on the left flank. The guns of Lannes’s division advanced towards the enemy and unlimbered. Moments later the first cannon boomed out across the open ground as they pounded the embrasures of the nearest bastion. Once the enemy guns were knocked out General Lannes gave the order to advance, and with colours unfurled and drums beating the battalions of his division rolled forward.
As the French bombardment ceased the janissaries rose up in their trenches and raised their muskets. There was no attempt to hold fire until the French had approached to within lethally close range and the Turkish troops wasted their first shots in a ragged crackle of musketry that felled only a handful of men before Lannes’s division reached the first trench and halted to pour a single devastating volley into the dense ranks of the enemy massed before them. The effect was just as Napoleon had envisaged and as the gunpowder smoke cleared in the sea breeze, he saw that the enemy had broken and were streaming back towards the second trench. The panic spread along the first line, so that General Destaing’s brigade did not even have the chance to fire at the enemy opposite them before they too broke and ran to the shelter of the next line of defence.
From his horse Napoleon could see that the men of the second line were made of sterner stuff and withheld their first volley until the attacking columns were close. The shattering effect of their fire stalled Lannes’s men a short distance from the second trench, and they deployed into line and exchanged fire with the janissaries. As he watched, Napoleon noticed a peculiar aspect of the fight. Every so often, a janissary would leap out of his trench and race towards the nearest French body. Most were shot down before they reached the corpses, but one, faster than his comrades, raced forward, swung his curved blade down and cut off the head, which he tucked under his arm as he turned and sprinted back to his own lines. He didn’t make it. A shot caught him in the centre of the back and he pitched forward and twitched feebly on the ground.