Colonna shrugged. 'Please yourself.'
'Excuse my nephew,' Paoli interrupted with a hard glance towards Colonna. 'He has been busy planning for the operation.'
'Operation?'
Paoli smiled. 'You were so busy with your survey that I didn't think it right to distract you.We have been instructed by the War Office in Paris to co-operate in the campaign against the Kingdom of Piedmont. France needs to protect its southern flank so she intends to send an army into Piedmont. The main force will strike from Nice and Savoy. Our contribution will be to seize Sardinia.'
Napoleon's mind reeled. 'When were you told of this?'
'Before Christmas. We have been busy with organising the men and supplies needed since then. Now we need to consider the plan.'
Before Christmas. Napoleon was furious.Why had Saliceti not warned him? He would write to the deputy at the first opportunity and find out. Meanwhile Paoli had beckoned to Colonna to join them at the map, then he placed some inkwells on the bottom corners so that Sardinia was clearly visible.
'Just to put you in the picture, Buona Parte, Admiral Truguet's fleet at Toulon will provide the transport for our troops. We have been instructed to provide six thousand men. Needless to say, that will strip most of the garrisons of Corsica of their protection, but Paris does not seem to have considered that. The question is, where should we strike first? I'd value your opinion.'
Napoleon bent over the map. He already knew what he would say. He had mentioned it in the appendix to his report. Two prominent islands were marked off the northern tip of Sardinia.
'Maddalena and Caprera.' He tapped the names with his finger. 'We must take them before we make a landing on Sardinia. As soon as the enemy are aware that France is going to launch an attack they are sure to fortify these islands and place heavy guns on them. Once that is done they will control the Strait of Bonifacio, and be able to prevent any landing in the north of Sardinia. But if we move fast, we can snap up these islands before the enemy realise the danger. Then we mount our own batteries there, and the Strait is under our control.'
He looked up in time to see Paoli and his nephew exchange a look of satisfaction, then Paoli's eyes flickered towards Napoleon and he nodded. 'That is just what we were thinking, Napoleon. I'm delighted that we are in agreement. A small force should suffice for the attack. Say, one battalion.'
Napoleon felt a burst of excitement. This was his chance. 'Sir, may I request that the Ajaccio battalion has the honour of making the attack?'
Paoli smiled. 'I was hoping you'd say that. I suggest that you return to Ajaccio and prepare your men, the moment we have completed the plans.'
'When did it happen?' Napoleon asked.
'On the twenty-first of January,' Joseph replied, thrusting the newspaper across the table to his brother. Napoleon had been aware that something momentous had happened the moment he entered Ajaccio. The streets were almost deserted and he hurried up to the salon the moment he had tethered his mount in the small courtyard behind the house. His mother and his other brothers and sisters were at church, like much of the population, praying that the Almighty would spare Corsica from the consequences of the execution of King Louis. Joseph had remained in the house to read through the first reports to reach Ajaccio.
Napoleon glanced at the newspaper, skimming his eyes over the front page. 'Good God… they actually went ahead and did it,' he marvelled. 'I don't believe it.'
Joseph nodded. His gaze flickered towards his younger brother. 'What will happen now?'
'Now?' Napoleon bit his lip. With King Louis dead the monarchs of Europe would be terrified of sharing his fate. Terrified, and filled with a spirit of vengeance. It could mean only one thing. 'There'll be a conflict on a scale no one can yet imagine.'
Joseph stared back at him anxiously, and Napoleon continued, 'They'll be lining up to declare war against France now. Those fools in Paris have no idea what they have unleashed.'
'God help us.'
Napoleon smiled bitterly. 'There'll be no help from that quarter. Not after everything that Robespierre and his friends have done. We're on our own, and the world is against us.'
Chapter 67
The icy water felt like a thousand knives stabbing at his flesh and Napoleon gasped as it closed round his chest. He held his pistols above his head and started wading towards the shore. Around him, the men from the other boats were also struggling to reach the shingle, muskets held aloft and muttering low curses at the coldness of the water. Ahead, at the base of the cliff, gleamed the lantern that had guided the boats to the landing point. A dark figure stood in the faint glow of the lamp, beckoning them on. Napoleon felt the angle of the seabed increase and moments later he surged from the small waves breaking on the shore and stood on the shingle, shivering like a new-born lamb. Around him the other men were stamping their boots and muttering through clenched teeth.The sound was terrifying and Napoleon was sure that the sentries on the walls of the small fort a short march from the beach would hear the noise. He grabbed the arm of the nearest sergeant.
'Tell the men to keep quiet, and then get them formed up!'
'Yes, sir.'The sergeant moved off amongst the dark mass, hissing orders as he went.
Napoleon crunched up the steep beach towards the lamp. He called out as loudly as he dared. 'Lieutenant Alessi.'
'Sir! Here!'With a clatter of shells and loose shingle the figure at the lamp came forward. Alessi had landed the day before from a Corsican fishing boat. He had used the time to scout the approaches to the fort and then prepared his landing signal as night fell. A fellow Jacobin, he saluted as he came up to Napoleon.
'Is the route to the fort marked out?'
'Yes, sir.'
'Any trouble?'
'No. The enemy are tucked up in their barracks for the night, sir.' Napoleon could see a faint gleam as Alessi grinned. 'They've posted four sentries that I could see. They seem to spend most of their time in the turrets on the wall. Can't say I blame them on a night like this.'
Napoleon nodded. That was why they had chosen a date before the new moon appeared. His only worry now was that the Sardinians might see the ship that had carried the battalion from Ajaccio. Napoleon turned and squinted out to sea. Only the faintest patch of denser darkness indicated the frigate, La Gloire, anchored offshore where the other four companies of the battalion were waiting to be ferried ashore. The frigate's boats were already heading back for them as the first two companies began to form up on the shore a short distance above the waterline. In addition to the men of the battalion a disassembled six-pounder was to be landed with the ammunition and powder needed for the assault on the fort. If the attack succeeded then a pair of eighteen-pounder long guns would be brought ashore and mounted in the fort. Once that was done the guns could command the waters of the strait around the island, and begin bombardment of the fortlet on the coast of Caprera.
Colonel Colonna remained aboard the frigate to oversee the operation, with Colonel Quenza acting as his aide-de-camp. Napoleon felt a huge sense of relief that he had landed with the first wave of troops and had escaped the dead hand of his superiors. His relief was mixed with excitement about the prospect of the attack itself.
He leaned forward to pat Alessi on the shoulder. 'You've done a fine job. Find someone to look after the lantern and then you can return to your company. I want them in position as soon as possible out of sight of the fort, but ready to move up the moment the attack begins.'
'Yes, sir.' Alessi saluted and scrabbled down the shingle to find the grenadier company – the first to be landed. Napoleon stood, arms clasped around his thin chest and shivering, as he waited for the boats to return with the next wave of troops.The six-pounder would be coming ashore with them and Napoleon would command the party that moved the gun up into position to fire on the fort. A short time after the second company followed the grenadiers off the beach, the dark shapes of the boats heaved up into the surf and more men splashed into the water. Napoleon made his way down to the shoreline and looked for the boat carrying the gun and its accessories.