Chapter V
Six horses and three riders went down the dirty path. The sun shone clear though the crystal sky only darkened by the light film of dust raised by the beating hooves. The man in the rear held a small handkerchief to his mouth and wore a straw farmer's hat. In the center rode a woman wearing a bonnet who wrapped herself in a wool blanket to fight of the biting cold. The leader wore a wide brimmed felt hat, reminiscent of a Cavalryman's hat, which sat low on his forehead and he wore a large overcoat.
Maurice's mind was tumbling with thoughts and he almost didn't notice the two men approaching his group. He glanced up slightly, his hand on the butt of the musketoon hanging from the saddle. The two men were not Gendarme, of that he was thankful. Nonetheless, these men did not look like seminary priests.
The first man rode up next to him, "Hello stranger, we couldn't help but notice that you have three beautiful horses you aren't using…"
"They're not for sale," Maurice grumbled, still hunched. His mind yelled that he should take care of these two right then and there…but there was a part of him that told him to wait. His hand never left the gun.
The rider was lean with a perfectly cared for mustache sitting above a row of bright and straight teeth. He laughed, "No, no, I have plenty of horses my friend. I am the mayor in this town and I'd like to speak with you about your mounts, I'm a horse aficionado myself."
Something in the man's voice eased the hand away from the musket. Maurice looked up, skepticism still in his eyes, "I believe we could use a little rest, we've been riding since sunrise and already it's midday. Lead the way my friend."
The 'Mayor' nodded with his open smile and began to move to a side path. Maurice followed, a little relieved at not having to stop in a public place. There was something in the man's demeanor that suggested something other than a desire to talk of horses, although he did have the look of a cavalryman. He looked taller than Maurice and much leaner but he had an air of strength about him.
With the others in tow, the came to gates of a well kept manor house. The second rider, presumably a bodyguard or servant, opened the gate. The Mayor rode towards the stables, "Come my friends, you may stable your horses here. Louis, help the poor girl into the house, she looks like the living dead," He turned his head to face Maurice, "I'll have my stable men help you with your mounts." And he quickly rode off to the stable, leaping gracefully off his horse.
Maurice and Stefano led their horses into the stable. Three men ran up to the horses and began to take off the equipment. The Mayor walked up to the riders, "Come my friends, we shall go inside. These men can take care of this," Maurice and Stefano dismounted and followed the taller man into his Manor House.
It was large, and more than likely very expensive, and the lands around it were sprawling. Stepping into the house, Maurice was no less impressed. A large central stair case and very well lit, this place could rival most other country manors. He almost didn't notice his host stop, "You sir," he was referring to Stefano, "May go and join your female friend for some coffee around the fire place, I need to talk to your veteran friend here."
Maurice tensed up as he watched the oblivious Italian walk away. He looked again at his host, who's face hadn't changed but his eyes did, "Come, we shall have some of the best wine in the country," he slapped his shoulder. There was nothing odd about the statement, except it was in Spanish. Maurice followed with an inquisitive look.
They were now inside a private salon; two leather chairs flanked a small table. The mayor flashed his perfect smile, "Sit, sit. My butler Gaston will bring us the wine. By the way, I'm Fernando Covas. A faithful servant of Napoleon, just like yourself."
Maurice was a little shocked. This man, who had never seen before, just opened this deadly secret to someone who he didn't know, "I'm Sergeant Maurice Tabor, also a servant of the Emperor."
"I knew it, I can always spot a veteran," Fernando laughed, his servant brought the bottle and two glass, "Thank you Gaston," He turned back to Maurice, "Why are you traveling at this time of year? It is cold," Looking at Maurice's shocked eyes, he laughed his joyful laugh, "It's alright Maurice, he is one of us. He was my servant during the time in the Guard Calvary. What branch were you part of?"
Maurice observed that his host was a little hyper, it must have been his Spanish blood, "I wish to go to Paris. I hear it's lovely this time of year. As for my service, I was a grenadier," He sipped the wine, and immediately discovered his host had not lied, "And what of you sir? Why did you invite us into your home?"
Fernando sat back and opened his arms wide, "Because, I wish to help fellow veterans in this time of crisis. Why did you accept?"
Maurice set his glass down, "I thought at first you were an outlaw or royalist, but something in you voice suggested other wise, and who am I to be rude? May I assume I'm not here to speak of horses?"
Fernando lowered his voice, "No, as all your horses are lame except the one you use. I'm guessing the ones your friends ride are fairly cheap, and the others you picked up from battle. And judging from you male companion you picked them up fighting to save them. Now, why would a loyal son of the true France go to such a rowdy city?"
Maurice loosened up a bit, "I wish to walk the streets, see the sights, like the Lone Rose Café," he let that sink in as he leaned further back, sipping once more at the wine glass. He saw Fernando's face change slightly, thinking no doubt. Looking at the room he saw books, maps, tools of science, this man was no idiot.
Fernando's face returned to its initial composure, "Why would a veteran of the Grand Army care to go there for? I assume it's not for the wine selection."
Maurice felt safe enough to talk, "I was once part of the Guard Grenadiers. I was even on Napoleon's personal Guard. I'm off to rescue our Emperor."
Fernando stared at him, then let out a long laugh, "You can't be serious my friend, Guard Grenadiers I understand, but his personal detail? Why aren't with him on his paradise island?" He continued to laugh until Maurice produced a letter, the broken seal was one rarely seen. It was Napoleon's personal seal not the more common Emperor seal. The paper looked aged, its corners rounded, but it still held an air of authority.
After glancing over it, Fernando looked up, "You're still crazy, he's in a fortress. But you have a plan, otherwise you wouldn't attempt it," he remarked.
Maurice poured more wine for himself, "Me? Hell no, I'm making it up as I go," he laughed, "Now, how did you end up in the Grand Army?"
The conversation that could have happened didn't, instead war stories were traded, comrades remembered, jokes retold. Maurice figured out that Fernando's father had come from Spain and his mother was French. Fernando was emboldened by the stories his father would tell of heroes such as Matamoros and this brought him a career in the military. He joined right after Italy and fought until the surrender at Leipzig, making Lieutenant. After their talk, Fernando led him to a lavishly prepared dining room and meal.
"Impressive, is it not? Of course, it's nothing like an Emperor's table but…" Fernando was making a grand show to his guest, treating him like a superior officer.
"Fernando, it is perfect," Maurice interrupted and Fernando's face lit up. He hadn't seen a feast like this in years, and he tried hard not to hide his excitement, expected Napoleon to make a grand entrance. His face remained calm, "Where will I be sitting?"
Fernando pointed to the chair on to the right of the head seat, the seat of the guest of honor. He also noticed the two figures already sitting, both trying hard not to assault the food. Maurice's heart skipped a beat, recognizing Aimee. It took him a few seconds to do so, but when he did he was amazed. She had a new dress on, an evening gown, and it was then he realized how beautiful she looked.
Shaking his head he took the seat next to her and Fernando sat next to him in his customary chair, "Eat my friends, eat. I'm delighted I could host you," Stefano and Aimee immediately threw themselves upon the food in front of them. Fernando looked shocked at the barbaric display, and Maurice chuckled, slowly cutting into his veal.
Aimee looked up at Maurice with a grin, which quickly disappeared. Maurice was smiling, lifting up his fork, "There's no need to rush it my dear, the food will not disappear," he stopped the fork just in front of his lips, "And you aren't expected to serve anyone."
She straightened up and began to imitate Maurice. She stumbled a bit, but she was learning. Maurice gave her a wink and an approving smile before turning to Fernando, "What do we owe you my friend?"
Fernando laughed again, "Nothing, just keep the memory of our Emperor alive. Oh, and I'll have my men supply you and I'll give you two guards."
Maurice shook his head, "That won't be necessary."
Fernando lifted his wine glass, "I insist…"