Freron leaned back in his chair.'You'll put that in writing?' He gave a cold smile as he scented the advantage he might wring out of the situation.

Saliceti nodded. 'I will.'

'All right then. On your authority. And until his replacement turns up.'

'I agree.' Saliceti turned to Napoleon. 'I'll have my clerk draw up your orders at once.You can wait outside.'

'Thank you, sir.' Napoleon smiled. 'I promise, you won't regret this.'

'You had better make sure of it, Captain. I'm sure you can imagine the fate that awaits you, should you fail.'

Chapter 74

General Carteaux was an imposing figure. Tall, broad-shouldered and, as befitted a former cavalry trooper, he had a dark curly moustache. He muttered softly as he read through the document that the young artillery officer had presented to him. Outside the tent the sounds of the encamped army filled the air – the whinnying of horses, the casual conversation of men off duty and the harsh cries of drill sergeants.

Napoleon had handed command of the ammunition convoy over to one of his lieutenants at first light. Taking one of the horses, he had then ridden hard down the road to Ollioules to find the headquarters of General Carteaux. As soon as he had finished reading Saliceti's letter of appointment Carteaux looked up.

'Captain Buona Parte, your credentials are impressive. Citizen Saliceti speaks very highly of you. He seems to think you can be of considerable assistance to me.'

'I hope so, sir.'

'So do I. But let me make one thing quite clear.' Carteaux stabbed his finger at Napoleon. 'This is my army, and I was soldiering when lads like you were still sucking at your mother's tit. I know what I'm doing and I don't take kindly to anyone telling me how to do my job.' He leaned back. 'I had enough of that from Dommartin.You artillery types think you know it all.'

Napoleon kept his mouth shut. There was nothing he could say without provoking this man's prejudices even further. It was better to weather his abuse and then get on with the job. He changed the subject.

'Sir, may I ask what your plans are for the siege?'

'My plans?' Carteaux smiled faintly. 'My plans are for me to know and you to carry out.'

'Of course, sir. But if you could let me know my part in them, then I can make sure the guns are ready to serve your needs.'

'Very well.' Carteaux eased himself to his feet and, picking up a telescope from the top of his travel chest, he headed for the entrance to the tent. 'Follow me, and I'll explain.'

Outside he led Napoleon to a small mound. From its crest the ground rolled downhill and there, maybe three miles away, lay the great port of Toulon, nestling beneath Mount Faron at the head of the inner harbour, where a great fleet of warships lay at anchor. Carteaux regarded the scene for a moment before addressing Napoleon.

'It's going to be a hard nut to crack. Besides the defences of the town itself, there's a number of forts that ring the port. The three largest are Malbousquet, there nearest us, LaMalgue on the far side of the harbour, and the fort on top of Mount Faron. We must take all three if we are to control the approaches to Toulon. And then,' Carteaux waved a hand over the shipping in the harbour, 'there's the enemy fleet to deal with.We've counted over twenty ships of the line so far, and there's rumoured to be even more on the way.'

'Rumoured?'

'We have our spies in Toulon. They keep us well enough informed on the enemy's strength and positions. At the moment, so they tell us, the enemy has over ten thousand men in Toulon. I have twelve thousand. So I must wait until I am heavily reinforced before I begin my attack. In the meantime, I want the cannon brought up ready to support my infantry when they assault the forts. That, Captain Buona Parte, is your job.'

'Yes, sir.'

'Now, I expect you will want to inspect your new command.'

'Yes, sir.'

'Very well. The artillery park is down the hill there.' He indicated a motley collection of tents some distance behind the crudely fortified positions of the advance posts. To one side sprawled the gun carriages and limbers of Carteaux's artillery train. There was little sense of order and the few men that were visible were sitting idly by a handful of smouldering campfires.

Carteaux nodded in their direction.'Off you go then, Captain. I want a report on the artillery's battle-readiness by the end of the day. Might as well do something useful before your replacement arrives.'

'Yes, sir.' Napoleon stood to attention and saluted formally. Carteaux nodded his head in acknowledgement and then strode back to his tent.

As he made his way down the slope Napoleon passed through the encampments of one of the regular infantry battalions. The men watched him sullenly as he passed by; only a few of them bothered to stand and salute. Even though the tents had been erected in straight lines the latrine ditches had been dug a short distance from the camp and were so shallow that they were already overflowing, and Napoleon wrinkled his nose in disgust as he hurried past them.

When he reached the artillery park he took a deep breath and marched up to the nearest campfire where three men sat smoking pipes. At the sound of his approach the men turned towards him but made no attempt to stand up and salute Napoleon.

'On your feet!' he shouted. 'Who the hell do you think you are?'

The three men rose and reluctantly adopted a more formal posture as they saluted. Napoleon's eyes blazed as he stepped up to the nearest man and knocked his pipe to the ground. 'What's your name, soldier?'

'Corporal Macon, sir.'

'Corporal? Where's your stripe then?'

'With my kit, sir.'

'Then that's where it can stay.You're Private Macon from now on.'

The soldier's eyes widened in surprise. 'You can't do that!'

'I'm your new commander,' Napoleon growled.'I can do what I like, Private.'

'No.' Macon shook his head. 'I protest.'

'Protest noted, and you're on a charge for insubordination.' Before the man could reply Napoleon turned to one of the other men. 'Name?'

'Private Barbet, sir.' The man stood to attention, as stiffly as he could.

'Right then, Barbet, who's the senior officer in the camp?'

'The officers are in Ollioules, sir.'

'Ollioules?'

'At the inn, sir.'

Napoleon's expression darkened. 'What kind of a miserable excuse for soldiers are you lot?'

The three soldiers stared straight ahead silently, not daring to meet his gaze.

'Pah!' Napoleon spat on the ground. 'You're a fucking disgrace!'

'What the hell's going on here?' a voice called out behind the soldiers, and an instant later a young sergeant thrust his way through the soldiers and stopped in surprise as he caught sight of Napoleon.

'Name?'

The sergeant snapped smartly to attention. 'Sergeant Junot, sir! Senior staff clerk to the commander of the artillery.'

'Ah! Then you work for me.'

'Sir?'

Napoleon drew out his notice of appointment and handed it to Sergeant Junot. 'I am Captain Buona Parte, the new commander of artillery.'

Junot glanced over the document and handed it back as Napoleon gestured towards Macon. 'My first order to you is to enter it into the journal that this man is reduced to the rank of private and put on a charge for insubordination. Fine him a week's pay and give him a week on latrine duties. Got that?'

'Yes, sir.'

'Very good. Next, I want you to send someone to find my officers and have them report back here immediately. Once that's done you come back to me with a notebook. I'll be over there, inspecting the guns.'

'Yes, sir.' Junot saluted and turned towards the large tent in the centre of the camp. Napoleon turned back to the three soldiers. 'Find the rest of the men. I want everyone on parade at once. Go!'