seek victory in the name of our emperor! I give
you good luck and Godspeed! May we meet around this
table next winter, celebrating the conquests of France!”
The men all drank. Glasses were set down and a man
near the general spoke. “We haven’t heard of your plans,
General. Where do you think you’ll be assigned?”
The general leaned back in his chair, his hands behind his head. “I’ll be here. I’ve received word that
there is battle to be waged in the city.”
“An enemy from within!” the man said, aghast at the
prospect of such a traitor. Similar exclamations journeyed around the table.
The general motioned them all to silence. “It has
come to our attention that for the past several months, a
secret society called Les Chevaliers de la Foi has grown
more active. They have bannieres not only in Paris but
throughout France. We do not know how militarily disposed they are, but we do know that they have an exacting organizational structure. Their outer circles
masquerade as charitable groups; it is how they do their
recruiting and woo people to their cause. Their inner
circles are very secretive and that is where the plotting
against the empire takes place. They have been silent
this summer, waiting for the outcome of the armistice,
but we have reason to believe they were quite active last
winter when it seemed possible the emperor would not
recover from the Russian campaign.”
The general spread his hands on the cloth. “A secret
society alone is of little consequence to the emperor; it
is the other part of the scenario that is of concern.
There is an individual or group, whom we have dubbed
L’Un, who has taken to helping families escape from
the city who we believe might be connected to potential
members of Les Chevalier’s inner circles. Such a concerted effort to protect family members suggests that
they may be making ready for a serious strike at the
empire. It is my duty to not only break the society but
to catch the miscreant who thinks he can challenge the
empire with such insubordination.” The general’s fervor in the form of his fist meeting the table caused the
crystal to jump.
There was a clamor of questions. “General, how long
has this been going on?”
“Since March, as best we can tell. Perhaps in the ex citement of mobilizing the troops for the spring campaigns, this traitor thought to slip past our attention.”
The general speculated.
Cecile glanced at Alain. Of all the men at the table,
he seemed overly quiet. Unlike the others, he was not
beside himself with questions or disbelief that someone would dare such a feat under Napoleon’s nose.
She’d gleaned that the Polish troops were unquestioningly loyal to Napoleon. She would have expected a
more explosive response from one of the renowned
Lancer captains.
She was surprised to see Alain take his leave of the
general shortly after the general invited the men to join
him for cards. Alain declined and politely departed
without even a glance in her direction. The general had
instructed her earlier that he’d not need her once they
adjourned for cards, so Cecile quickly packed away her
violin and made a swift departure, not stopping to
change into her own clothes. Something had disturbed
Alain greatly at dinner. He’d been quiet and had had little to offer a conversation that he should have found
second nature. No doubt a captain of a squadron was
used to receiving orders and packing up or of others doing the same. The surprise could not have been the various orders the men received to report to the front.
Cecile caught sight of Alain further down the street
and she followed as rapidly as she could. Still, she
could not get within hailing distance. She continued to
follow. She saw him turn onto the Faubourg, and then
go through a gate in a vined wall that fenced off a house
from the street. Cautiously, Cecile pushed open the gate
which had remained unlocked. She knew the
you good luck and Godspeed! May we meet around this
table next winter, celebrating the conquests of France!”
The men all drank. Glasses were set down and a man
near the general spoke. “We haven’t heard of your plans,
General. Where do you think you’ll be assigned?”
The general leaned back in his chair, his hands behind his head. “I’ll be here. I’ve received word that
there is battle to be waged in the city.”
“An enemy from within!” the man said, aghast at the
prospect of such a traitor. Similar exclamations journeyed around the table.
The general motioned them all to silence. “It has
come to our attention that for the past several months, a
secret society called Les Chevaliers de la Foi has grown
more active. They have bannieres not only in Paris but
throughout France. We do not know how militarily disposed they are, but we do know that they have an exacting organizational structure. Their outer circles
masquerade as charitable groups; it is how they do their
recruiting and woo people to their cause. Their inner
circles are very secretive and that is where the plotting
against the empire takes place. They have been silent
this summer, waiting for the outcome of the armistice,
but we have reason to believe they were quite active last
winter when it seemed possible the emperor would not
recover from the Russian campaign.”
The general spread his hands on the cloth. “A secret
society alone is of little consequence to the emperor; it
is the other part of the scenario that is of concern.
There is an individual or group, whom we have dubbed
L’Un, who has taken to helping families escape from
the city who we believe might be connected to potential
members of Les Chevalier’s inner circles. Such a concerted effort to protect family members suggests that
they may be making ready for a serious strike at the
empire. It is my duty to not only break the society but
to catch the miscreant who thinks he can challenge the
empire with such insubordination.” The general’s fervor in the form of his fist meeting the table caused the
crystal to jump.
There was a clamor of questions. “General, how long
has this been going on?”
“Since March, as best we can tell. Perhaps in the ex citement of mobilizing the troops for the spring campaigns, this traitor thought to slip past our attention.”
The general speculated.
Cecile glanced at Alain. Of all the men at the table,
he seemed overly quiet. Unlike the others, he was not
beside himself with questions or disbelief that someone would dare such a feat under Napoleon’s nose.
She’d gleaned that the Polish troops were unquestioningly loyal to Napoleon. She would have expected a
more explosive response from one of the renowned
Lancer captains.
She was surprised to see Alain take his leave of the
general shortly after the general invited the men to join
him for cards. Alain declined and politely departed
without even a glance in her direction. The general had
instructed her earlier that he’d not need her once they
adjourned for cards, so Cecile quickly packed away her
violin and made a swift departure, not stopping to
change into her own clothes. Something had disturbed
Alain greatly at dinner. He’d been quiet and had had little to offer a conversation that he should have found
second nature. No doubt a captain of a squadron was
used to receiving orders and packing up or of others doing the same. The surprise could not have been the various orders the men received to report to the front.
Cecile caught sight of Alain further down the street
and she followed as rapidly as she could. Still, she
could not get within hailing distance. She continued to
follow. She saw him turn onto the Faubourg, and then
go through a gate in a vined wall that fenced off a house
from the street. Cautiously, Cecile pushed open the gate
which had remained unlocked. She knew the
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