They turned off into a smaller corridor, which ended in a set of double doors with an armed sentry outside. The doors were covered in green leather and embossed with great golden bees.
The Doctor wondered idly why Napoleon had chosen the bee as his symbol. Maybe because he was always so busy.
Captain Charles returned the sentry's salute and flung open the double doors.
'The Doctor, Your Majesty,' he announced.
Wondering how Serena was getting on with Talleyrand, the Doctor went through the doors and into the room beyond.
Serena was fielding polite, but extremely skilled, questioning from Talleyrand. It was evident that he was interested in her and in the Doctor. No doubt he was interested in anyone who interested Napoleon. He was clearly curious about Napoleon's reasons for summoning the Doctor. Which was awkward, since Serena had no idea what they were. It wasn't easy to answer any of his questions, since they hadn't really worked out a cover story for their current roles.
Serena took refuge in being mysterious, and sought for a way to change the subject. 'You said earlier that your career could be seen as somewhat chequered, I think was the word?'
'Some would say so.'
'Indeed? But you are Foreign Minister, and soon to be a prince. Your career appears to have been very distinguished.'
'Oh, it has, it has! And as the good Captain hinted, extremely extremely varied.' varied.'
'I don't understand.'
'If you're sure it won't bore you?' Serena shook her head and Talleyrand went on, 'As you can see, my dear child, I am very old.'
Actually he was somewhere in his early fifties, thought Serena, and in remarkably good shape. He was still a very attractive man, as he knew full well. She sensed that it amused him to pretend to be practically decrepit. Perhaps he was trying to lull her into a false sense of security.
'I was born into an aristocratic and important family in the time of the late Bourbon monarchy,' Talleyrand continued.
'Like all young men of my class, I was intended for the Army.'
He tapped his leg. 'A childhood injury made my military career impossible so I was thrust into the Church. Thanks entirely to the influence of my noble family, I rapidly became a bishop.'
'You don't look like a bishop,' said Serena frankly.
'I never really felt like one. Or acted like one either, to be honest. When the Revolution broke out, I left the Church, joined the revolutionary cause, and became a delegate to the National Assembly.'
'How did you survive the Terror?' asked Serena in some surprise. Surely Talleyrand's family background, not to mention his aristocratic air, should have made him a prime candidate for the guillotine.
'Not without difficulty. As the Revolution became more extreme, a warrant was issued for my arrest. I went first to England, and when they expelled me went on to America.
After a few rather tiresome years in exile, the revolutionary bloodlust died down, and the desire to remove my head faded away. I was able to return to France and became, once again, a Minister of State. I served the Directory, the Consulate...and now, our glorious brand new Emperor.'
Serena's own political experience told her that a world of intrigue and danger must lie behind this light-hearted account. Talleyrand was obviously a skilled politician. Was he also a total cynic? She couldn't resist asking the question.
'And where do your true loyalties lie?'
'The art of statesmanship,' said Talleyrand, 'is to foresee the inevitable and to expedite its occurrence.'
Serena pondered this enigmatic statement and shook her head. 'I don't follow.'
'I served the Bourbon establishment until its oppressive stupidity made its fall inevitable. I served the Revolution until it collapsed from within in bloodlust and cruelty. I served the Directory till it became too weak and corrupt to control the mob, and the three consuls until it became evident that only one of them was worthy of my service. So, I served the First Consul who is now our Emperor.'
'And your loyalties?'
'To myself. To my friends. Above all, to France. I try to do what is best for France.' He gave a sudden, disarming grin.
'Always, of course, whilst saving my head, preserving my comfort, and feathering my nest!'
Serena was silent for a moment, considering what he had said. Despite the frivolous conclusion, the words about France rang true. She remembered what the Doctor had said earlier. 'I do what I have to do and what seems best to me at the time.'
Perhaps, in some strange way, the Doctor and Talleyrand were alike.
She wondered how the Doctor was getting on with Napoleon.
Chapter Fifteen.
Napoleon the First
The Doctor stood looking around the room. It was a large, luxuriously furnished study, its walls lined with leather-bound books. There were green morocco chairs, ebony tables and a sofa upholstered in green taffeta to the left of the huge fireplace. There was a massive desk made of ormolu-lined mahogany, and a six-foot long case clock.
Napoleon rose from the desk as the Doctor came in. He had exchanged his court dress for a well-worn grey tunic. He noticed the Doctor registering the change.
'My soldier's coat, Doctor.'
The Doctor bowed. 'Fitting attire, Your Majesty, for the greatest soldier in Europe.' What was it old Disraeli said, he thought? Or rather, what was it he would would say. 'Everyone likes flattery and when you come to royalty, you should lay it on with a trowel.' It seemed to be working with Napoleon, anyway. He came forwards from behind the desk, beaming a welcome. say. 'Everyone likes flattery and when you come to royalty, you should lay it on with a trowel.' It seemed to be working with Napoleon, anyway. He came forwards from behind the desk, beaming a welcome.
'Good of you to come, Doctor. Would you care for some refreshment? Wine? I have a respectable Burgundy. Or more champagne, perhaps?'
The Doctor shook his head. 'I have already overindulged in Your Majesty's hospitality.'
'As you wish. You may leave us, Captain.'
Captain Charles bowed. 'Then with your permission, Doctor? If you would extend your arms?'
The Doctor stretched out his arms and Captain Charles performed the ceremony known to a later age as 'patting down'.
'This is no way to treat an honoured guest,' said Napoleon in mock protest.
'The Captain is doing no more than his duty,' said the Doctor. 'I never carry weapons but how is he to know?'
The search completed, the Captain bowed and withdrew through a discreet side door.
'Come and sit down, Doctor,' said Napoleon, indicating a chair close to the big desk. The Doctor sat, and Napoleon took his seat behind the desk.
He stared at the Doctor for a moment as if at a loss how to begin. The Doctor looked placidly back at him.
'You are a puzzle to me, Doctor,' said Napoleon at last.
'Many years ago you saved my head. Today you saved me again. I need to know how and why.'
The Doctor gathered his thoughts. Time for some more mystic mumbo jumbo, he thought. When he spoke, his voice was low and solemn, throbbing with earnestness.
'There is little I can tell Your Majesty,' he said. 'Little that you would find clear and satisfactory. You are a soldier, used to stern decisions based on hard facts. My sphere is dark and full of uncertainties. All I can say is this: I am a scientist and a scholar, a wandering scholar, if you will. For many years I have travelled the world in search of ancient knowledge. I have acquired certain powers, certain intuitions...'
'Go on,' said Napoleon eagerly.
'Many years ago, in Antibes, these powers told me you were in danger. I acted; I tried to act, to save you. I did not succeed, not fully, but perhaps I helped. Today, here in Paris, the same thing happened. This time I was more fortunate.'
Napoleon leant forward eagerly. 'Can you see the future?'
'In a crystal ball, or a pool of ink?' The Doctor smiled and shook his head. 'Sometimes there are hints, intimations.
They come when they will. But there is little clarity, and no guarantee.'
Napoleon jumped up and began pacing about the room, coming to a halt before the Doctor's chair. 'Why did you come to Paris?' he demanded. 'What do you want from me?'
'I came to Paris because Your Majesty has made it the new centre of science, art and culture. I ask for nothing.'
'Everybody wants something,' growled Napoleon.
In Napoleon's world, thought the Doctor, surrounded as he was by people with their hands out, he was probably right. It was a chance to be different.
'I ask for nothing, sire,' he repeated. 'Your Majesty will recall that I did not make myself known to him after today's incident.'
'True, true,' muttered Napoleon. 'It was I who recognised you.' He resumed his pacing, then came to a sudden halt.
'The Countess has warned me against you. She says you are a spy, an English agent.'
The Doctor smiled. 'If that were true, I could have done the English great service today simply by doing nothing!'
'True,' said Napoleon again. 'Then why does she accuse you?'
The Doctor shrugged. 'I have known the Countess some time in a sense we are rivals. In the past I have frustrated several schemes of hers, and she bears a grudge.'
'What kind of schemes?'
'Certain schemes of which I did not approve,' said the Doctor, in tones which forbade further enquiry. 'There is another obvious motive for her enmity towards me.'
'And what is that?'
'Simple jealousy. She has become accustomed to enjoying Your Majesty's confidence, being his favoured confidante. I arrive, Your Majesty is kind enough to afford me some recognition perhaps she sees me as a potential rival, a threat to her position.'
Napoleon laughed. 'You may be right, Doctor, a jealous woman is the very devil. The trouble I have with Josephine...'
'I make no accusations against the Countess, but let me warn you in turn. Do not trust the Countess too completely, or take her too far into your confidence.'
'And why not? She has given me much help, much good advice over the years.'
'I don't doubt it, sire. She may well do so again. But the Countess has her own agenda, and she works always towards her own ends. As long as those ends coincide with Your Majesty's, well and good. But if ever they do not...'
Napoleon said reluctantly, 'There may be something in what you say. She is a schemer, that is something I always felt about her.' He paused. 'So you cannot foretell my future, Doctor?'
'Not in the kind of detail Your Majesty would desire. But I can sense trends, movements, possibilities. I can feel the forces of destiny swirling about Your Majesty's head.' And if that isn't mysterious and pompous enough, I don't know what is, thought the Doctor but will he buy it?
Napoleon leaned forward eagerly. 'Do you see success?'
'I see year upon year of success,' said the Doctor in solemn tones. 'Some setbacks perhaps, but in the main, victory follows victory.'
Which was all true enough, to begin with, he thought.
Many years of unbroken success lay before Napoleon. Until the end, of course...
The end was what concerned Napoleon as well. It was almost as if he had some sort of premonition. 'And the end?
The ultimate end? Do I succeed or fail?'
'The end is always shrouded in darkness,Your Majesty.'
The Doctor thought again of the problems of foreknowledge of human history. There was a great temptation to say something like, 'Why not stop while you're ahead? Make a decent peace with England and stick to it, and on no account invade Russia.' Yet to do that would be to become as bad as the Countess. Great success lay ahead of Napoleon. But so did failure, defeat and exile. That too was his destiny, and nothing must happen to change it.
Napoleon seemed to come to a sudden decision. 'Come with me, Doctor, I have something to show you.'
He led the Doctor across the room and drew back a curtain, revealing a hidden door. He opened it with a key and led the Doctor inside.