‘Of course. But this campaign will be different. If we fail . . . if we are defeated, then there will be no pity for the survivors. Our enemies will not wage war in the manner we are used to. I will take as few women with us as possible. Certainly, I want to spare you the rigours of the campaign. It will be a comfort to know you are safe in Paris.’

‘As you wish,’ she replied flatly.

‘I’ll write as often as I can. I hope this time you will be as diligent in your replies.’

‘I will. I swear it.’ Josephine put her arms round his shoulders and drew him into her embrace. ‘When do you leave?’

‘In May. I wish there was more time.’ He kissed her again. ‘I wish that it was safe for you to come with me.’

She leaned towards his ear and kissed his neck, then whispered, ‘I suppose I’d only be a distraction. If I were to cause your concentration to wander on the eve of battle, I don’t know if I could bear to have that weighing on my conscience.’

‘Then we’d better get the distractions out of the way now.’ Napoleon kissed the smooth curve of her neck and pressed a hand on her breast. ‘Let’s go to bed.’

Chapter 29

Chapter 29

Egypt, July 1798

The three-decker, L’Orient, loomed above the other ships of the fleet that lay at anchor off the coast of Egypt. Napoleon checked his pocket watch by the light of the brilliant moon, and swore. It was already three o’clock in the morning and barely five thousand of his men had been landed on the shore close to the village of Marabout. Alexandria lay less than ten miles to the east and Napoleon wanted to open his attack on the port at first light. Even though the order to begin landing had been given the previous afternoon, the men were thoroughly seasick and the rough waves and pounding surf had made loading the smaller craft a hazardous affair. Several men had been drowned and those that had made it to the shore were disorientated, drenched and already desperately thirsty.Their officers were scouring the shore for their men and trying to form them up ready to march on Alexandria. General Reynier had reported that only three hundred men from his division were assembled and waiting for orders.Worse news had followed. None of the horses or guns had been landed yet, and General Desaix and his soldiers had been landed on the wrong beach.

Napoleon saw an officer striding towards him and recognised Berthier in the pale light of the moon.

‘Sir, what units we have are formed up and ready to advance. What are your orders?’