CHAPTER XV

Wherein our heroes arrive at their objectives

"You're alive!" cried Etienne, too loud.

"It may not remain that way long," said Henri quietly " keep your voice down and please, shift left one touch."

Etienne did shuffle left against the wall and Henri used this space to pull himself to the point of sitting on the ledge. He rubbed his hands together briskly and caught his breath. The hussar was apparently quite healthy and his uniform was intact though it was dark for being soaked through. There was no equipage about Henri's person save for a very finely decorated sabre at his side. His tightly braided hair still looked worse for wear in this weather and his moustache was fairly drooping. He did not seem overly concerned about his appearance at this time. For Henri, his being alive did not seem all that special. Etienne though was excited.

"What happened to you? I'm so glad! What happened? It is good to see you alive."

More patronizing than serious, Henri manfully patted the toe of Etienne's adjacent boot. "I'm glad to see you here." assured the Hussar, "Dare I say that I am proud of you?" For the darkness, Henri did not notice Etienne's faint blush.

Right then, a tricorn capped head emerged from the nearby window and whispered, "Come on." but it was apparent to all that he said this before he realized that there was a blue hussar sitting where he had thought he'd left Etienne.

"Who..." began La Fleur.

"Right." replied Henri and with a twist and a flip, he slipped neatly through the window and past the Moonflower.

Etienne carefully followed after and said in a hush, "He is a friend."

This room where the three adventurers were now mustered was empty: empty of any furnishing at all. It was still beautiful though with colourful frescoes on the ceiling, and rich velvet wall coverings. Each wall had an ordered arrangement of white faux relief columns. The floor was tiled with delicate designs. While their eyes were adjusting to the gloom, Etienne made introductions.

"La Fleur de Lune?" asked Henri fairly incredulously and then he took a few seconds to assess the object. There was little speculation in his tone when he remarked, "That is quite a characterful alias, Colonel Anatole de Montesquiou. Your mother is well?"

"She is aggrieved but healthy, Captain. Thank you for asking." answered Anatole in an equally quiet tone. "I am glad to see you once more under the Emperor's colours."

"As you, I have never left them." said Henri.

Etienne frowned at all the civility and used what moonlight he could to confirm that the room was indeed abandoned and secure. One door was slightly open and when he cautiously set his gaze through the gap he found a second, equally unfurnished chamber.

“My mother assured me that this is the correct room.” said Colonel de Montesquiou and then he explained for Etienne. "She is... was young Napoleon's Governess."

"Was?" asked Henri.

"Was." answered Anatole. "She was let go and ordered out of Vienna three days ago. She is still here though for they have banished her without providing a passport."

"Fiends." declared the Hussar.

Etienne returned from a circuit of the second room and reported back with a shrug.

Henri ventured toward clarification, asking, "This was supposed to be the Prince's room? If he is not here then... where?"

"Perhaps," suggested Etienne, "He shares a room with his mother? He is still young."

Anatole laughed without due regard for volume. Shaking his head then he insisted, "No. No. She wishes nothing to do with her son. They would do something like that only if they wished to punish her." A frown from Etienne only hinted at his distaste for this insinuation about the Empress.

Henri twisted his moustache. "Perhaps someone has already stolen him away."

The laugh from Montesquiou continued and he replied, "If there are three of us coming together for this, perhaps there are thousands more of us, lurking and spying all over Vienna. An army of intriguers."

"Is that possible?" asked Etienne. There was a harmony in the denial.

Henri paced, his boots striking clear, echoed notes upon the tiles of the floor. "If he had been taken..." mused the hussar, "...they'd not have moved his furniture away. No, the furniture is with him."

"But where is he?"

"Yes, that is the key." said Anatole with a poignant finger pointing to the painted ceiling. "If we can find the child then ... then we shall have found the furniture!"

Henri took a long look out of the dark window while Anatole delighted in his own wit. "You know what we must do, Etienne." said Captain Darlon.

The youth did indeed feel certain so said, "Go to the Empress. She will know." and Henri gave a warm smile.

Anatole spoke up, saying, "Gentlemen, I would recommend against going to Marie Louise, but I will accompany you for I will not return home without being able to inform Madam le Comtesse de Montesquiou that the Prince of Parma is in safe hands."

"I," said Etienne then, "Will deliver the letters to her then, so I think going to the Empress is best." He took out the letters and separated the two for delivery.

Henri watched him doing so and grinned wide beneath that dark moustache. "You've kept them."

"Until tonight." was Etienne's answer. Holding the note for Napoleon's young son, the youth tapped the edge of it against his lower lip while wrestling with a decision. He looked at each of his companions in turn, to the window, and then gazed about the effect less room. Finally he returned the message to his pocket.

"What is your purpose?" asked Anatole of Henri.

With a shrug and a gesture toward his other companion, Henri replied, "I'm following him. If an opportunity presents itself, I intend to convey the Empress and her son to Paris." Anatole's eyes widened at the boldness of the enterprise.

"Henri..." began Etienne because he could wait no longer, "What happened to you? I thought you were dead."

Smiling, the Captain conceded. "Tis true. I do owe you an explanation as to why I am still living. It was carelessness, to be sure. Sadly, the truth of the tale is not as exciting as you would like. I vaguely remember you and I speaking through a wall while captured but the next thing I knew, I was being cruelly awakened by being dragged through a trap door and thrown violently to the floor."

"It need not be said that this unkind awakening was at the rough hands of brigands rather than the gentle ones of nuns. My situation dire, I was abetted by the fact that none of these fiends (much like yourself, Etienne), were prepared to find me breathing let alone swinging fists and knees with delirious abandon. If you know me, you will know that I was not going to let the opportunity to slip by so I immediately laid into them and this initiative was rewarded. Something besides myself had earlier quite discouraged the scoundrels such that there was little discussion among them before they took consensus toward flight."

"Just as I was congratulating myself on my triumph and composing my bulletin the leader of the bandits put in an appearance." Henri paused to draw his sabre and demonstrate its fine quality for the others. "He was carrying a blade that he did not deserve so I was quite glad, for the sword's sake, to avenge that insult."

"Insults must be avenged." confirmed Colonel de Montesquiou.

Etienne nodded to himself and unsheathed the blade that hung by his side, saying, "I have kept your own sword, Henri and watched over it closely. Will you take it? I have insulted it too long already."

"Pish!" was the response from Henri as he slid Otto's sword back into its sheath. "Not at all. I would be honoured for you to have mine. Besides, this one is much better. That one is but standard issue."

Etienne tried not to appear crestfallen but he was no master of deception. He put his sword away.

Then the storytelling began again, "They'd liberated my belongings and it seemed that many of the bandits had vanished long before I went searching. I was without a pipe. Can you imagine? For a day or so I remained at the cottage. It is difficult to tell how long I was there as I was finding myself falling asleep without warning and remaining so stricken for inordinate lengths of time." Henri tapped his temple at this time to indicate where he suspected the source of the problem lay.

"I waited. I'm not certain why, but I waited. Eventually though I knew that I had to go on so I set off for Vienna on foot. Thoughtfully, the bandits left a small amount of coins behind for me so there was little requirement for personal brigandage en route."

Something was bothering Etienne. "What about your uniform?"

Henri laughed aloud and reached out to clasp his friend's shoulder. "Tell me, Private Neville, what is the distinguishing difference between a French Hussar, an Italian Hussar, one from Austria, Hungary, Prussia, Russia, or even Britain?"

When Etienne had no reply, Anatole spoke up to say, "Even I do not know the differences and more than once I have sworn that were I Emperor of France, I'd regiment the orders of dress of the Hussars. They are far too colourful and irregular."

"But always splendid," answered Henri with a wink.

"Always splendid." agreed Anatole.

"We should be under way." said Etienne abruptly. "You must have a route planned, Colonel."

Anatole nodded, "Yes. I would anticipate sentries in the halls so the windows would be my recommendation. Hers would be..." and here he paused to do some memoried imaginings, "... four windows further."

Henri grinned broadly, "Easily done. We've all crept by night into a Gentle Lady's bedchamber before, yes?"

Etienne was surprised that he could say, "Of course I have."

Anatole simply chuckled and shrugged. He led the others to the window and before he crept back out onto the ledge, turned back to caution them with a "Shhhh." and a finger to his lips.

Etienne was the last to gain the egress but there, immediately realized what had provoked the Colonel's increased caution. Below that very window was a lantern borne aloft by at least six white-clad soldiers. Thankfully not alert to the presence of three skulking Frenchmen two stories above them, the Austrians still showed no inclination to move away. The young burglar edged out onto the precarious ledge and paid special attention to silence while doing so. Indeed, as he thought back to the conversation that the three men had just shared, he was most appreciative of how much Fortune had aided them in not attracting the attention of the piquet beneath the window.

All three of the adventures were painstakingly careful. Henri had one hand upon his sabre sheath to ensure that it did not clatter against anything. The others were beginning to rethink their overcoats with the rubbing sounds that they insisted upon making against the wall. Surely, thought Etienne, they might hear his boots that were seemingly loudly announcing their soggy state with each step. They did not. Each man could take but small steps upon that slight projection and progress was painfully slow. Etienne, being last, was most impatient and he several times found himself uncomfortably close to Henri, which risked a collision that may not have ended well.

The trio had warily passed three tall windows and that cluster of soldiers had achieved a much more comfortable distance of darkness apart when de Montesquiou knelt and began to test the lock between the panes of their intended entrance. Henri saw the nod that told him that it was open and passed this information back to his younger friend. In his hand, Etienne held those two letters. In but a moment, he could go before the Empress on bended knee and deliver the Emperor's words to her. Soon, he would be accomplishing great service for his nation.

Noiselessly, the far pane swung out and as silently, Anatole swung in. The black of the chamber enveloped the man but Henri followed without hesitation. When the last man was carefully, quietly lowering a foot to the floor the other two where remaining cautiously still. Montesquiou prudently closed the window behind Etienne but the moon still shone through it to vaguely light a well appointed, elegantly furnished bedchamber. Within the massive post bed, a lone figure was asleep within storm-tossed sheets.

"Your Highness, awake and do not be afraid." spoke Henri as he leaned in toward the young woman. The Empress' eyes fluttered lazily open and all three heroes held their breath in the gloom. "Do not be afraid..." he urged again.

Marie Louise screamed.

Etienne looked to the window at a loss and Henri was looming closer to the frightened woman saying, "Please, Your Highness, we are Frenchmen... good Frenchmen."

The Empress of France screamed.

Anatole sprang forward to clasp a hand urgently over her mouth but Henri's grasp was faster. He clapped his hands upon Anatole and restrained him ere he could reach the wailing woman. "No!" the Captain ordered the Colonel and then he let go the man to kneel by the side of the bed. He begged, "Your Highness, if you love France, if you love your husband, you will trust us."

The poor girl screamed for the help, seeking any saviour from these bedroom intruders. She cried out, "Adalbert! Adalbert!"

De Montesquiou pushed past Henri and lay hands upon the Empress. "We must take her!" but Etienne this time took hold of his shoulders and pulled him back into restraint.

"No!" the fusilier insisted, "Napoleon will not have her forced."

"Fly!" cried Henri, his voice rising above the desperate screams of Marie Louise.

Pulling himself free from Etienne with surprising strength, Anatole yanked the window wide and only paused to say to his Empress, "Forgive me." before making an escape.

Henri told Etienne "Go!" but the youth was arrested. He stood fixed, looking at the letters in his hand. There was no small table. There were no yellow flowers. This was not the way it would go. Henri urged him once more even as the Hussar was perched in the window and preparing to evacuate. With the world spinning, Etienne looked past all the noise and chaos and saw the woman, Marie Louise, clutching her bedclothes to her bosom as tight as could be. He saw her white knuckles and her wide, frightened eyes. He placed the two letters on the bedside and fumbled a bow. Finally, he pushed himself through the open window and into the open night air.

On either side of our young soldier stood an older companion, balanced upon the narrow protrusion and all three overlooked a daunting scene: Several Austrian soldiers were below and calling out, pointing, and preparing muskets to fire upon the three identified targets. They were seen. They were trapped.

Etienne could not tell who moved first but without a word, both Henri and Anatole sprung from the ledge and plummeted the two high stories into the knot of guards beneath. On landing, hard, they each got to their feet quickly. Their swords were bared for battle and before the light was doused, Etienne could see the flashing blades wreaking havoc upon the soldiery.

Behind Etienne there were quiet sobs. Before him, from all corners of the broad gardens, lantern lights were hurrying to concentrate here. Sounds of swords and screams of dying men could be heard below. From the Empress' bedroom came the crash of a door slammed open and a man exclaimed in French, "My Dove!" but then switched smoothly to the Germanic tongue for a hastened interrogation. For only an instant did Etienne turn to catch sight of the one-eyed man before the boy too leapt from the Schonbrunn ledge.

The fall was brief but it gave Etienne time to consider himself possessed of much forethought for not drawing his sabre before pushing off. Indeed, when he landed (with great waves of pain raced through his legs and back) and fell atumble he might well have done serious injury but he was quickly determined to remain intact. Even as he was assessing the threats, his sword was in hand and moving to guard him. There was a musket shot! Etienne did not die and neither did either friend. They were dominating in the fight and that shot had signalled the last failed attempt of the last guardsman to save himself.

At the feet now of our youthful hero was the broken body of an Austrian soldier. His arm had been severed brutally and another gash had opened his belly, covering his white uniform in crimson. His pathetic expression was centered upon Etienne. The wounded man was silently mouthing some plea.

"More are coming. Soon!" said Anatole.

"Etienne." warned Henri, "No quarter. They would know us."

Swinging lanterns indeed began to appear not one hundred metres away and already shouts had begun to accompany the lights. Etienne looked away from the pitiful dying man before him and back up to the Empress' window.

The dark Cyclops was there, cloaked in shadow and silence. The villain bore witness as one of the three rolled a pained survivor over and brought his sabre down swift and true across the neck of the unfortunate guard. Count von Neipperg was not disheartened to see the carnage done to these palace guards. It allowed him an assessment of these invaders and he knew, therefore, that they would return. He nodded to himself as one voice that he may have recognized counselled the others, saying, "We make for the gardener's gate. It is not guarded." When the French trio had vanished into the night and the palace grenadiers were discovering the bodies of their comrades, the Black Hussar sneered.

 

Chapter XVI

Index