The Lightstep (43 page)

He could not remember to whom he had assigned it. Here
was one more matter to be resolved, among all the others.

Wéry and his party inspected the barricades inside the breach
and ordered that one should be rebuilt a few yards back down the
street so that the buildings on either side could enfilade it. They
went to the cathedral and climbed the west tower to gain a view
of the Kummelberg, where an enemy battalion had appeared and
was beginning to dig trenches opposite the citadel. Then they
returned to the east wall in time to see a column of infantry
emerging from the woods to the north of the city.

'There, sir. They are ours!'

'So they are, by God!' said an aide. 'Hurrah!'

'Wait,' said Wéry.

He trained his field-glass on them. Distant figures danced in
the circle of his vision. The uniforms were white, yes. But that
meant nothing. Much of the French infantry still wore its old
royalist whites because the Republic had had neither the time
nor the money to replace them with the new patterns. And after
the fugitives of the night and the arrival of enemy cavalry in the
morning, it would be extraordinary for a formed body of Erzberg
infantry to appear now.

Of course, extraordinary things did happen in war. But if these
were Erzbergers, surely they should be making for the Saxon
Gate, rather than circling the city?

'Should we not sortie, Commander?'

'No.'

He swung his glass a little to his right. A squadron of French
cavalry had halted on the eaves of a wood, not far from the head
of the advancing column. The men were dismounted. The horses
were picketed. Soldiers did not do that in the presence of an
advancing enemy.

'No,' he said again. 'Those men are French.'

He felt the mood of the group around him sink as understanding
set in.

'So,' he said, closing his field-glass. 'We must assume that
Balcke-Horneswerden has had to retreat in another direction.
There is nothing we can do now but wait.'

'How long?' said Bergesrode.

'At least as long as it takes that column to march all the way
round to opposite the Ansbach Gate and for their fellows to come
up and circle the city. After that, it depends where their guns are.
They will be slow to arrive because they are big beasts . . .'

'Commander!'

Again that urgent cry from beyond the ring of faces.

'What is it?' said one of the militia officers gruffly.

'A flag of truce, sir, at the Saxon gate. There is an officer of the
enemy who wants to parley.'

'Truce, eh?' said someone.

'Do not put your hopes up,' said Wéry 'They will speak only
to scare us. But we will hear what they have to say. Have them
blindfolded and brought up to the palace. I will meet
them there . . .' He looked around at the faces. '. . . With the
quarter commanders. The rest of you should find yourselves
breakfast and some rest. You will need it before long.'

'There will be a special mass for our deliverance,' said
Bergesrode, as the group broke up. 'Six o'clock, at the cathedral.'

'Very good.'

Maria stood beside him. He looked at her, and all their faces
were gathered into one in hers.

She asked, 'What may I do?'

He allowed his eyes to linger on her for a moment, to remind
himself that they were both still living – that all of them were, for
now.

'Breakfast, and rest,' he repeated. 'It is an order.'

The effect of placing a white hood over a man's head was to
make him seem headless, like a blood-drained corpse from the
guillotine.

So Wéry, dazed from lack of sleep, mused as he watched the
blindfolded French officers led on horseback across the courtyard
of the Celesterburg. There were just two of them. Their hands
were tied behind their backs to prevent them from removing
their hoods without warning. The militiamen guided their horses
gently up to the palace steps.

'Very well,' said Wéry. 'Let them see.'

One hood was pulled roughly back, revealing a solemn face
with black brows and a grey moustache surrounded by tightly curling
grey hair. The Frenchman looked impassively away as the
militiamen reached to cut his bonds. Then they lifted the other
hood.

It was Lanard.

Colonel
Lanard, it seemed, to judge by his insignia. And he was
in a foul temper. 'Ah. Good day to you, Wéry,' he said. 'I find the
hospitality of Erzberg is not what it was at my last visit. But
perhaps that is because the Brabançons are now in charge.'

'Perhaps,' said Wéry. 'Perhaps it is also because at your last visit
you were a welcome guest.'

'Not welcome to everyone, even then,' he said. 'But it was my
duty, as it is now.'

He climbed stiffly down from the horse.

'My aide, Capitaine Rouche,' he said, indicating the grim faced,
grey-haired officer beside him.

'I regret that we have made you uncomfortable,' said Wéry. 'Of
course you will appreciate the necessity.'

'Frankly, Commander – and may I congratulate you upon
your promotion, albeit disposed at the whim of some aristocrat
– I find it hard to appreciate the necessity of any of this most
considerable folly. I had thought you a man of better
sense. Nevertheless, I have prevailed upon my General to permit
me to see if there is any possibility of avoiding a disaster. And
therefore I am here.'

'How thoughtful of you,' said Wéry coldly.

'Oh, but I like you, Commander. You remind me of my former
General. An angry man, but a good one. So I am going to do my
best to save you. Also I understand that at least one person from
a household I remember fondly is in your fortress, and I would
very much wish that she were not inconvenienced in the coming
days.'

He stopped. The amused smile that Wéry remembered played
for a moment across his face. Wéry realized that his eyes must
have flicked across the courtyard to the windows of the apartments
where Maria would be sleeping.

'How did we know?' said Lanard. 'Oh, there are always
comings and goings, even in sieges, are there not? You know that
even better than I. And we were not so very surprised to hear
that Gianovi has slipped away, leaving you to hold the bag. Such
a clever man.'

'We will go up to the conference chamber,' said Wéry.

'To the Prince's room, I hope,' said Lanard lightly. 'After all, it
seems you have the run of all the palace. Surely there is no better
place to find agreement than surrounded by the representation of
Heaven.'

'If you wish to see the Prince's chamber, you will have to go
back out and force your way in.'

'Ah, but that might damage it!'

'If you value it so much you should leave the city undisturbed.'

'So sad, that to enter paradise one must destroy it.'

In tight-lipped silence they entered the palace. They climbed
the marble stairs, their boots and the boots of their aides clattering
in a long harsh trail behind them. The paintings and statues
seemed to look away as they passed, as if the soldiers were an
unwelcome truth that the palace figures still hoped they need not
acknowledge. On the carpets of the first-floor corridors the
sound of their tread deadened to a low thunder that rolled down
the dimly-lit passages and rumoured the end of the Prince's
world. The door to the antechamber was open. Inside, the two
desks of the secretaries had been pushed to the wall and a long
conference table had been set up. More of the officers
commanding the defence of the town were gathered there,
staring out of the windows or pacing up and down. They came
to attention as Wéry entered.

'You may sit,' he said to the Frenchmen, indicating seats in the
centre of one side of the table. He himself made his way around
to sit opposite them. The other officers arranged themselves on
either side of him, a long row of eighteen white uniforms facing
the two foreigners.

Capitaine Rouche took some paper, a pen and an ink-bottle
from a satchel that he carried, and set them out before him.
Lanard leaned forward and looked directly into Wéry's eyes.

'I am authorized by General Augereau of the Army of the
French Republic to speak for him to those in command of
the defences of this city.'

General Augereau. So it was that man, of all of them, who was
to be the opponent in his last fight. He remembered dimly that
Lanard had once called Augereau an 'ape'.

'Let us hear what General Augereau has to say.'

'I shall begin by outlining the situation as General Augereau
sees it. In brief, the Army of Erzberg has ceased to exist. All three
of your field battalions have been broken, and one of them has
been completely destroyed. Your Count Balcke is dead. We found
his body after the last square of the Dürwald battalion was overrun.
We have taken six guns, which we believe to be the sum total
of your field artillery. If you will appoint officers for the purpose,
they may accompany me back to our lines under flag of truce to
interview some captured infantry and artillery officers of yours,
who will confirm what I have told you.'

'I see,' said Wéry, conscious of the rustle that was spreading
down his side of the table at the Frenchman's words. He fumbled
for something to say. 'You have not yet mentioned the hussars.'

Lanard shrugged. 'Hussars will be hussars. They made their
ride to glory. I regret to inform you that we have yet to find a
single hussar officer among the living.'

'I see.'

'To prevent any further recurrences, General Augereau
requires that all remaining forces of the Prince-Bishopric be disarmed
and disbanded. All incumbent officers and officials of the
Prince-Bishop's administration are required to surrender themselves
for parole. In addition, and to provide for the security of
the city of Erzberg, my general proposes to leave a garrison of his
own troops in the city. I am authorized to discuss with you the
terms under which this garrison is to be installed and
maintained.'

Wéry knew that he had expected nothing else. He fought to
control his anger, and to let his voice roll coolly out to the ears
of his subordinates, like an officer rallying a wavering line.

'I see. But I am not authorized to discuss these things. If you
wish the town to be surrendered, you must address yourself to
His Highness.'

'His
Highness,
we believe, is as far away as Bamberg, and may
very well be farther still – on his way to Bohemia or Bavaria,
perhaps. We shall certainly endeavour to discover his whereabouts
but we most certainly shall not wait until we have done so before
finishing matters here. Therefore we address ourselves to what
remains of the armed force of Erzberg, and most specifically to
those who have the responsibility of command of that force.'

'Very well. You may tell your general that we will not
surrender the town.'

Lanard gave a little gasp of exasperation. 'This answer will
achieve nothing but further loss of life, chiefly among the soldiers
you are responsible for, and the citizens it is your duty to protect.
Erzberg is not a proper fortress. You have no outworks, few
trained gunners, and the single ring of your walls is breached. No
doubt you have done your best to repair the damage. Even so,
your defences are hardly adequate. I should also inform you that
we are equipped with heavy guns.'

'We know this.'

Lanard lifted an eyebrow. 'Then I hardly see what you will
gain from prolonging the conflict.'

'In the first place, Colonel, I remind you that this city is not
yours or your general's, but that of the Prince. Every man of my
garrison and every citizen in the town knows that, and will
uphold it. In the second, we are subjects not only of the Prince,
but of the Emperor, who may yet interest himself in this case. And
thirdly, the responsibility for every shot you fire over our wall,
every house demolished, every man, woman or child whom you
cause to suffer, will be seen by all of Christendom to rest with
you.'

Lanard gave an impatient gesture. 'But this is to clothe yourself
in chains! The Prince has fled. And will Paris tremble at what
the Emperor thinks? Eventually, I suppose, we may hear from the
Emperor his thoughts upon the matter – and upon our
operations in Switzerland and Rome at the same time, no doubt.
It will change nothing. Such . . . obeisance to powers past ill
becomes you. You of all people, Commander. This is your choice,
and I put it to you again. Either commit your people to suffer and
die, or let them be free of the yokes you have named. Which is
the choice of the sane man?'

'Free, you say!' cried Wéry. 'Free like Liège, Brussels, Mainz?
The only freedom they know is that they are free to weep!'

'Damnation, Wéry!' exclaimed Lanard. 'If I return with these
answers to my general, the end is certain! He is not a forgiving
man. And our soldiers, when they have climbed your fence – they
will not simply be petulant. There will be no stopping once we
are in. You know what that will mean.'

'So do you. And may you live long with it.' And he looked at
the officer before him, in the uniform of the Republic. And his
mind bellowed,
It will he your doing! Your doing, not mine!

'So,' said Lanard. 'I had hoped that in this parley at least I might
have better luck than in my last. But it seems to be forever my
fate to negotiate with bone-headed fanatics.'

'You have taught us to be fanatics, sir. This, too, I lay at your
door.'

'Enough. For our part, it remains only to bring up the guns
and take position. Until then, you have yet some time to
reconsider. I bid you do so – and to consult before you do.'

'But as I have said, Colonel, there is no one with whom we
may consult. Therefore you should not look for our answer to
change.'

'Bof!' said Lanard wearily. 'Then consult the devil at your
elbow, my friend.'

He rose from his place, and the grim-faced Capitaine Rouche
rose with him. As the aide stowed his things in his satchel again,
Wéry saw that not a mark had been made on the paper in all the
conversation. Not one word of his had been recorded for Paris.