'There's no one about at the moment,' the abbot explained. 'The rest of the boys will be in lessons until supper.You will have a chance to meet them then. Since the first task is to improve your French we've decided to put you at opposite ends of the dormitory, beside a proper French boy, so you can correct your accent, which is still a bit thick, if I may say so.'
Napoleon coloured the moment he heard this, but his brother took his hand and when Napoleon glanced sidelong at him Joseph shook his head in warning.
The abbot wafted a hand. 'As soon as your trunks arrive please unpack then, and then return to the staff room. I'll take you to your teachers and introduce you to your classmates.'
'Yes, sir.' Joseph replied. 'Thank you, sir.'
The abbot smiled quickly, turned away and strode back down the corridor.
When they were alone again Joseph turned to his younger brother. 'Well, what do you think?'
'Seems comfortable enough.'
'I wasn't talking about that. Napoleon – well? Makes you sound like a real Frenchman.'
'Yes, I know,' he replied unhappily. 'Napoleon… and Joseph. What would Mother say if she could hear me now?'
Chapter 14
Abbot Chardon was standing in his study overlooking the courtyard of the school at Autun. It was morning break and outside the boys were playing in the snow. Wrapped in coats, scarves and mittens, they were indulging in snowball fights as usual, shrill shrieks of excitement and surprise filling the air, and clearly audible even this side of the glass in the window.Then his attention fixed on a figure standing at the school gate and his smile faded.The stiff posture of the distant boy was unmistakable. Little Napoleon Buona Parte on his own once again.
It was over a month since the two Corsican boys had joined the school, and while Joseph had begun to settle in and make some friends, the younger child resolutely held himself apart and only associated with his brother, and only then when the latter was not playing with his new friends. It surprised Chardon that the older brother seemed so timid and obviously in awe of Napoleon. But then the young boy had a fierce and forceful personality, such as the abbot had never before encountered. Despite coming to Autun to learn French and benefit from perhaps the best education that Europe had to offer, the boy was defiantly Corsican and was more than willing to resort to a shouted tirade, or fists, if anyone impugned his native land.Which, of course, had made him the prime target for all those boys predisposed to tease or bully any of their peers who stood out from the rest.
Napoleon crossed his arms, tucking his hands under his armpits to keep them warm. He had been still long enough for his toes to start feeling numb, and now he began to slowly pace up and down in front of the gateway. He hated this numbing cold, and the clinging damp on his face and bedclothes when he rose each morning. In Corsica at this time of year the air would be cool but dry, and the winds blowing off the Mediterranean kept the skies above Ajaccio clear and blue. Thoughts of home were never far from his mind, and they tormented him terribly, especially that last moment before the ship had set sail from Bastia. He could almost smell his mother, feel her touch and the warmth of her breath on his ear as she had whispered her final word of farewell.
He clenched his hands and stiffened his lips. He would not give in to this homesickness. He would not be seen to be as weak and self-indulgent as other people.
A snowball struck him on the back of his head and a chorus of cheers filled the air. They died instantly as Napoleon whirled round, eyes blazing and gloved fists snatched out from under his arms.
'Who did that?' he screamed. 'Who did that?'
Someone giggled at his fierce expression and then like a current it flowed through those boys who were staring at him until laughter rang in his ears.
'Who did it?' he shouted.'Tell me! Tell me or I'll fight you all!'
But the laughing continued, so Napoleon charged forward towards the nearest knot of boys. At once, they broke up and ran away, still laughing nervously. Kicking spurts of snow up behind him Napoleon ran after them, but he was too small and too slow, and they kept their distance easily. After a few more steps he gave up and stopped, breathing heavily as he shouted after them, 'Come back and fight! Cowards! Cowards! Cowards…'
'Napoleon!'
He glanced round and saw his brother warily approaching. Joseph held up his hand, a concerned expression on his face. 'Napoleon. Calm down… Calm yourself.'
Napoleon continued breathing deeply as he lowered his fists and felt the tight tension in his chest begin to ease, flowing out of his body like a poison and leaving him feeling cold and weary. Joseph stepped up to his side and put an arm around his brother's shoulders.
'You're shivering. Come inside. We'll go to the boot room – there's a fire there where we can warm up. Come.'
He steered his brother towards the outbuildings behind the school, away from the boys in the courtyard. Some still jeered, hoping to provoke another explosion of rage, but quickly lost interest as Napoleon allowed himself to be led away.They entered the boot room and Joseph shut the door. Wooden boot racks stretched down one side of the room, each one numbered for one of the pupils. On the other side, flanking the fireplace, were rows of pegs. This was where wet footware and coats could be dried and the atmosphere was warm and humid, and smelled musty. Joseph pulled up a pair of stools, positioned them in front of the glowing grate and eased his brother down.
'You missed breakfast. You must be hungry. Here.' Joseph pulled a hunk of bread out of one pocket and a small lump of hard cheese from the other. He smiled. 'I saved these for you.'
Napoleon looked at the offerings for a moment before he reluctantly accepted them with a nod of thanks. He began to eat, and soon appetite got the better of him and he gnawed hungrily on the cheese. Joseph watched him for a moment, and then reached for another log from the woodpile and placed it over the glowing embers in the grate.
'Feeling better?'
'Yes. Thank you.'
'What are brothers for?' Joseph grinned. 'I'm supposed to look after you.'
'I can look after myself.'
'Yes. I noticed.You were doing a fine job…'
Napoleon glared at him, and his brother could not help laughing as he wagged a finger at him. 'Now don't you start that again! I was just joking.'
For a moment the familiar wild expression burned in Napoleon's eyes. Then he relented and turned his gaze towards the fire as Joseph continued, 'You really must stop reacting like a madman every time someone says something.You have to control that temper. I thought you wanted to be a soldier.'
'I do.'
'Well, you can't go mad in the middle of a battle.You have to have a cool head, especially if you want to be an officer.'
Napoleon considered this, and reluctantly nodded his agreement. 'I will learn to control my feelings one day.'
'You'd better learn sooner than that,' Joseph said quietly.
His brother looked at him curiously. 'Why do you say that?'
'Because you'll be leaving Autun next month.' Joseph forced himself to smile.
'What are you talking about?'
'Father has sent us a letter. I found it on my bed at the start of break. That's why I came to find you outside. Just in time, it seems.'
Napoleon stiffened his back and held out his hand.'Let me see the letter.'
Joseph's cold fingers fumbled inside his coat for a moment, before emerging with a folded sheet of paper bearing a broken wafer seal. He passed it to Napoleon and the young boy opened the letter out and began to read, his eyes eagerly scanning the spidery lines of his father's script.
'Brienne.' He looked round at Joseph and smiled. 'A military college.'
'Just what you wanted.'
'Yes…' Napoleon's smile faded as he glanced back at the letter and read it again, quickly. 'He doesn't mention you.'