Leopard in Exile by Andre Norton, Rosemary Edghill Read Free Book Online Page A

Polonaise .
    In his persona as a loyal Polish chasseur , Illya saw everything that went on in open court and a great
    deal that went on behind closed doors. He kept notes of all he learned, but passing the material back to
    England was dangerous, and he took the risk as rarely as possible. It would soon be necessary to make
    the effort, however, especially if rumor did not lie.
    Illya tried, unobtrusively, to ease the aching weight of his ceremonial wings. The impractical ornaments
    would shear loose in the first seconds of a cavalry charge, but it was unlikely that the Garde would ever
    again be called upon to fight. At least when his duty here was over he could remove the wings—and in
    fact, Illya had it in mind to remove rather more than that, and the prospect of agreeable company in
    which to do so.
    "Donatien Alphonse François de Sade, Due d'Charenton!" the herald cried.
    The great golden doors of the throne room were thrown open with a booming sound, and the hunched
    figure of the Satanic due moved slowly to the center of the scarlet carpet.
    So it is true , Illya thought in faint amazement. For the last several weeks, it had been rumored about the
    Court that the Emperor intended to appoint the Due d'Charenton the new governor of French Louisianne
    in the far-off Americas. It was the only reason Illya could imagine for Napoleon to summon d'Charenton
    to appear in open court. Even in the atheistic religious climate of Imperial France, the man was worse
    than a scandal.
    Illya knew little about the political situation in the Americas, but from Court gossip he had learned that
    Napoleon's hold upon his New World possessions was sketchy at best. Louisianne was rich, but it was
    also more loyal to the murdered Capet line than it was to Imperial France, and so the Emperor had
    always preferred to concentrate his efforts on holding the rebellious—but more easily subdued—sugar
    isles of the Caribbean. Talleyrand had long urged his master to take a conciliatory path with Louisianne,
    but anything less tactful than sending them d'Charenton, Illya could not easily imagine.
    After several minutes, d'Charenton reached the foot of the throne and knelt. An aide handed
    Napoleon—his Army uniform swathed in a purple velvet and ermine robe, and a coronet of golden laurel
    leaves upon his brow—a set of scrolls with ornate jeweled terminals. The Emperor unrolled it and began
    to read in his nasal, accented Corsican French.
    "I, Napoleon I, by virtue of conquest King of France, Italy, Austria, Egypt, Africa, and the New World,
    do hereby grant the governorship of the province of Louisianne, located in the New World, to the Due
    d'Charenton, there to rule as the representative of Imperial France, to mete out France's justice and to
    deal with her enemies in my name."
    A discreet murmur of comment rose among the ranks of the courtiers. It was, Illya reflected, quite
    vexatiously puzzling.
    Fortunately I don't need to know why Boney would do such a mad thing. I merely need to know
    that the news is important enough to risk trying to get it to England.
    Wessex had often had cause to be grateful that Providence had possessed him of an understanding wife,
    but never more so than upon this particular occasion, for after making an appearance at the Royal Ball
    this evening—Warltawk had not been there—he had left Sarah to open the ball at Herriard House alone.
    He had stopped only long enough to change from his ball-dress to something far more inconspicuous:
    breeches, boots, and a many-caped dark grey riding-coat. Then, taking up black riding-gloves and a
    low-crowned, wide-brimmed hat that would hide his features, the Duke was off to the stables to saddle
    his horse.
    Hirondel greeted him warmly, the great black stallion nuzzling his master and making it difficult to bridle
    him—though Wessex could, and had, ridden the formidable beast with neither saddle nor bridle at need.
    The servants who were still putting away the carriage