The Duke’s eyes came back to Sharpe. ‘Who’ll command the South Essex if I remove you?’
Sharpe flinched. He had suspected his command of the battalion would not last long, but the news still hurt. ‘We lost both Majors, my lord.’
‘So you told me,’ the Duke scowled. ‘What about your company officers?’
‘None I’d want in command yet, my lord. Too inexperienced.’
‘Then I’ll find you a Major.’ The Duke turned to a staff officer. ‘A draft arrived from England last week, isn’t that so?’
‘Yes, Your Grace.’
‘Tell Halkett to select a Major from those men. I want the name by dinnertime.’
‘Of course, Your Grace.’
The Duke turned back to Sharpe. ‘Stop looking like a dog that’s lost his bone, Sharpe. You’ll get your battalion back. I’ve written to the Horse Guards and insisted on that. They won’t like it, but they can damn well swallow it. And if anyone asks where you’ve gone, you’ll say you’ve joined my staff.’
‘I’m honoured, my lord.’
‘Honoured be damned. There’s some dirty business that needs doing in Paris, Sharpe, and you excel at dirty business. Mister Fox has faith in you, so help him!’
‘Of course, Your Grace.’
‘Then I’ll leave you. Don’t let me down, Sharpe! Your man, Fox.’ And with that the Duke left the parlour.
‘He’s not a happy duke,’ Fox said amused, ‘and do sit down, Colonel.’
Sharpe sat in a second fat armchair. ‘He’s not happy?’
‘Dirty business indeed. He knows it’s necessary, but he don’t like it.’ Fox spoke in a casual almost drawling tone. ‘He don’t like it and nor do I. But the Duke is sure you’re the man for the job.’
‘For making a list of paintings?’
Fox smiled. ‘That still has to be done, Sharpe, but that wasn’t all I was doing in Paris, and the rest is a deal dirtier than art. And the Duke assures me you’re just the man for dirty filthy tasks. So tell me about yourself, Colonel.’
‘Not much to tell, sir. Born in London, raised in a foundling home, ran to Yorkshire where I killed a man, joined the army to escape the rope, and here I am.’
Fox smiled. ‘Born in the gutter, the Duke says?’
‘I was, sir.’
‘And now you’re Colonel Sharpe.’
‘Lieutenant-Colonel, sir.’
‘But Lieutenant-Colonel Sharpe is still at home in the gutter?’
Sharpe nodded, but said nothing. He was thinking that Normandy was home, and Normandy was very far from the filth of London or, indeed, Paris.
‘Your new job, Colonel Sharpe, is to keep me alive,’ Fox said.
‘The best way to stay alive, sir, is to stay out of range.’
Fox ignored that. ‘I was in Paris, Sharpe, to discover stolen paintings, but by chance I discovered something more.’ Fox had lowered his voice, speaking now more intensely. ‘I found a group of men who call themselves la Fraternité.’
‘La Fraternité, sir?’
‘A stupid name, I assume from Liberté, Egalité and Fraternité. But the Frogs don’t have liberty, they certainly aren’t equal, so fraternité is all that’s left to the poor darlings. La Fraternité, Sharpe, is a group sworn to a purpose. Think of them as the Emperor’s hunting dogs.’
‘And do I assume, sir, that the Emperor’s hunting dogs are chasing a fox?’
‘They would love to catch this fox again, and they’ll doubtless try, but the Emperor’s hounds have much bigger game in mind, which is why we must hunt them down before they kill.’
‘Bigger game, sir?’
Fox sat up straighter. ‘So far as we know, Sharpe, the Emperor can still assemble over a hundred thousand men, but I think he’s doomed. There’s a provisional government in Paris, and they’ve had enough of war.’
‘Good,’ Sharpe said.
Fox ignored the word. ‘There might be a battle. But my suspicion is that the French are tired of war and want no more of Bonaparte’s adventures. If I’m right they will force him to abdicate and surrender Paris. The allies will then occupy the city. And even if there is a battle I am confident the Prussians and our troops will win, so we shall still occupy Paris.’
‘Yes, sir,’ Sharpe said, for lack of anything else to say.
‘Before I left Paris, Sharpe, I became aware of la Fraternité. I’m told they were formed in April, just after Bonaparte arrived in Paris from Elba, and I have no doubt they received his blessing. They are men fiercely loyal to their Emperor and have sworn to protect him.’
‘Isn’t that why there’s an Imperial Guard?’ Sharpe asked scornfully.
‘And the Guard failed,’ Fox retorted sharply. ‘The Empire is collapsing, Sharpe. Within a few weeks France will be a monarchy again, and Bonaparte will either be dead or in prison.’
‘So la Fraternité will have failed too.’
‘It’s a matter of pride, Sharpe. The French are being humiliated. They’re defeated! So how do they recover a scrap of pride? By revenging themselves on their enemies, and la Fraternité is the instrument of that revenge.’
‘Revenge,’ Sharpe said, only because Fox had paused and seemed to want some response.
‘The princes of Europe will be in Paris,’ Fox said, ‘they won’t be able to resist a chance to gloat over their conquest. The Czar of Russia, rulers from Austria and Prussia, maybe even that fool the Prince of Wales. The Duke too, and General Blücher. La Fraternité want to kill them all, and your task, Sharpe, is to keep them alive.’
Sharpe stared at the languid Fox. ‘They have armies to do that,’ he said.
‘And you are in the Duke’s army,’ Fox said, ‘and your job is to find la Fraternité and stop them. It won’t be easy. The members of la Fraternité are assassins, motivated by a fierce loyalty to Bonaparte. Our job is to find them and kill them before they can inflict a single death.’
‘Just you and me, sir?’ Sharpe asked mockingly.
‘The Duke assures me you can raise a dozen men from your battalion. That should be sufficient. But they must be ready to leave tomorrow.’
‘The whole army marches tomorrow,’ Sharpe commented.
‘We shall go ahead of them, Sharpe. The matter is too urgent. The Duke is at risk from the moment he enters Paris. I suspect he will be their first target. Either the Duke, or Fat Louis.’
‘The King?’ Sharpe asked.
‘Louis XVIII, by God’s grace, King of France and Navarre, and he’s a disgusting, gross lump of fat.’ Fox, who was razor thin, spat the words.
‘So how do we find these killers?’ Sharpe asked.
‘I know one man who can tell us,’ Fox replied. ‘It won’t be easy, but find them we must. You’re staying in this inn?’
Sharpe had assumed he would stay with his battalion, then remembered he had been transferred to the Duke’s staff. ‘For tonight, sir, yes.’
‘Then be ready with your men at dawn tomorrow. You’ll need horses, I shall arrange a dozen. We meet in the stableyard of this inn.’ Fox rapped out those orders swiftly, then stood, towering over Sharpe. ‘One last thing, Colonel. It might be best if you said nothing to the Vicomtesse.’
It took Sharpe a second to realise Fox meant Lucille. He still found it strange that she was an aristocrat. ‘She can be trusted, sir,’ he said defiantly.