Even so, more men were needed to fill out the ranks of the Grand Army and Napoleon had issued an edict calling for over nine hundred thousand men to defend the motherland. Scarcely a tenth of that number had answered the call, Napoleon mused angrily.

‘What do they want?’ he muttered. ‘A fat Bourbon king on the throne? Aristocrats to bleed them dry? The priests of Rome claiming their tithes? Why won’t they fight to save themselves?’ He thumped his fist down on the desk and repeated loudly, ‘Why?’

Those who had joined the army were poorly equipped due to shortages of muskets and uniforms. The cavalry regiments were the worst affected of all, as there were so few remounts available in France.

The door to the office clicked open and a clerk nervously looked in.

‘What is it?’ Napoleon barked.

‘I - I thought I heard you call for me, sire.’

‘No. I was just thinking aloud. Go away . . . No! Wait. Have my brother and generals Savary and Berthier arrived yet?’

‘No, sire.’

Napoleon frowned. ‘Well, send them in the moment they reach the palace. Is that clear?’

‘Yes, sire.’

The clerk bowed his head and backed out of the office, closing the door quietly behind him.

Although Joseph and General Savary knew the reason why they had been summoned, Napoleon wanted to ensure that they had a full grasp of his intentions for the governance of France, in case anything happened to him. Berthier would take over the management of the war in the absence of the Emperor. The years of constant warfare and the exhausting task of translating the Emperor’s commands into orders and providing him with the minutest details of the strength and location of every unit in the Grand Army had exacted their toll on Berthier. After Leipzig he had returned to France a broken man and had only just returned to light duties. Some of the other marshals were still recovering from wounds received at Leipzig. Those still serving in the army were tired of war and some had openly urged Napoleon to sue for peace. Murat had withdrawn to his kingdom in Naples and was ominously silent, not having replied to a single request from his imperial master for help in the defence of France.

The door to the office opened again and the clerk entered. ‘General Savary, Marshal Berthier and his highness Joseph are here, sire.’

Napoleon stared at him. ‘They arrived together?’

‘Yes, sire.’

‘In the same carriage?’

‘I don’t know, sire. They were together when they entered the anteroom.’

‘I see.’ Napoleon felt a sudden stab of suspicion. If they had arrived together then it was obvious they had travelled to the palace together. Why? What reason could they have for meeting before attending their Emperor? Napoleon breathed out slowly. He was in danger of seeing conspiracies everywhere.

‘Sire?’

Napoleon realised the clerk had been waiting for his response. He nodded. ‘Show them in.’