‘Meanwhile, we’ll take Milan and give the men a brief rest. The Austrians aren’t going anywhere for now. We’ll march on them again once the men are fed and in good spirits. That’s enough business for tonight. Berthier will send you your orders at first light. Good night, gentlemen.’

They rose from their chairs and filed out of the room. Napoleon sat and stared at the map. The Austrians had retreated yet again, but they were running out of space to retreat into. Some time, in the coming weeks or months, there would be a reckoning. When it came, it was vital that the Army of Italy was strong enough to face a hard battle and win.

There was a knock on the door frame and Napoleon looked up to see Berthier holding a waterproofed document bag.

‘Dispatches and papers from Paris, sir. Will you read them now, or wait until morning?’

‘Now, please, Berthier.’

‘Yes, sir.’ His chief of staff crossed to the table and unfastened the straps. Inside was a carefully wrapped bundle of newspapers, a sealed packet from the War Office and a letter addressed to him in Josephine’s hand. Napoleon warmed at the sight and he instinctively picked up the letter and ran his fingers gently over the writing. He smiled. It was typical of her to use her contacts to get a letter included in the official dispatch bag. For a moment he lingered over the letter, then set it aside and reached for the packet and broke the seal.

There were two documents inside, one from Carnot at the War Office and the other from Barras on behalf of the Directory. He read Carnot’s letter first. The War Office was unable to send the requested reinforcements to the Army of Italy for the present, but assured General Bonaparte that he would be given priority the instant reinforcements were no longer needed on the Rhine. The letter concluded with an intelligence report revealing that Beaulieu was shortly to be joined by fifteen thousand fresh troops. Napoleon felt a cold rage flow through his veins. With fifteen thousand fresh men, he himself could sweep the enemy from Italy and chase them all the way back across the Tyrol to Vienna. He wondered, idly, who constituted the greater danger to his army. The Austrian forces, or the politicians back in Paris?

He opened the letter from Barras, glanced over the usual official preambles and started reading the substance of the wishes of his political masters. When he got to the end he lowered the document on to the table, his hand trembling with anger.

‘Damn them,’ he muttered through clenched teeth. ‘Damn them all.’

Berthier stood silently, waiting for his superior to elucidate on the contents of the letter. At length Napoleon looked up, his brow creased into a furious frown.

‘It seems that the Directory wants to split the command of the Army of Italy.’

‘Sir?’