‘Which will still leave us outnumbered,’ Napoleon mused. Numbers were not everything, he reminded himself. Man for man, the Grand Army’s soldiers and officers were the best in Europe. And it was also a matter of leadership. Kutusov was a capable enough commander, but old and schooled in ways of war that Napoleon considered outdated. In addition, the Russian general was leading a polyglot force, and would have to contend with interference from Austrian generals. To make matters worse for Kutusov, the Tsar had loudly proclaimed that he would lead his men in person to victory over France and had set off from Moscow to assume command. So the disparity in numbers was bearable, Napoleon reflected - provided a battle was fought soon. But time was on Kutusov’s side. With the Prussians mobilising, and a large Austrian army about to emerge from the Alps, Napoleon would be caught between his enemies and overwhelmed. He was also troubled by the lack of supplies for his men. They had been on the march for over two months and were at the end of a very long and vulnerable supply chain. Foraging was difficult given that the Russians had stripped the land ahead of the Grand Army and left little in their wake.

He nodded to himself and then looked up at Berthier. ‘We are in a dangerous position. It would seem that our best course is to retreat to Ulm and wait for reinforcements before continuing the campaign.’

‘If you think that is wise, sire,’ Berthier said carefully.

Napoleon smiled. ‘Well, you obviously don’t.’

Berthier folded his hands together and chewed his lip for a moment before continuing. ‘It will appear to the wider world that we have been forced to retreat, sire. That we have been worsted. Once our enemies trumpet that view of events, they may find ready allies to join them in a war against France.’

‘My thoughts exactly. So we dare not retreat, and we dare not advance, and we dare not sit here and wait.’

Berthier shrugged. ‘A dangerous position indeed, sire. What are you going to do?’

‘The only thing I can.’ Napoleon stretched out his arms and yawned before he continued. ‘We must persuade Kutusov and his Austrian allies to attack us.’

‘Persuade them?’ Berthier’s eyebrows rose in surprise. ‘How?’

‘We give Kutusov an opportunity he will not be able to resist.’ Napoleon reached forward over his campaign table and pulled a map towards him. He scanned it for a moment and then tapped his finger on a feature indicating high ground. Leaning forward he read the inscription.

‘We will bait the trap here, on the Pratzen Heights, close to this town.’ His finger moved fractionally across the map. Berthier bent his head forward to read the name.

‘Austerlitz.Very well, sire.’