use it for conquest, but I for peace. So I brought you up here to propose a partnership.”
“East is away from England.”
“Exactly. It’s just as well that Sidney Smith begins to forget what you’re up to. Make more money working with me.”
“Money?”
“Ten thousand francs if you find a machine that foretells the future. A castle, if you want it. I suspect we’ll conquer dozens in the years ahead.”
Now my heart beat faster. Investments in England, a fortune from Paris, and a castle in Bohemia . . . my horizons were expanding as rapidly as Napoleon’s. What was my purpose? Payback for the trials my family had endured. I was a puppet, yes, but strings could pull both ways. Perhaps it was I who was in charge! I’d manipulate these greedy, grasping men as they manipulated me, and save the world in the process. I felt a flush of confidence. I didn’t need to flee, I was where destiny demanded.
“My quest seems improbable. A lost automaton?”
“That was my reaction. Napoleon meets a thousand people, of course, and more than a few get his attention by spouting nonsense. But then I remembered an old Jewish legend from my religious studies, a tale of an artificial man made from mud called a golem. It made me wonder if your quest might not have a grain of truth.”
The name had an eerie sound. “A mud man?”
“A monster, answerable to a rabbi master. This golem had the power to defend the Jews of Prague if properly instructed, or so the story goes. By legend it went out of control and had to be subdued and still rests, a clay shell, in a synagogue attic in Prague. Yet isn’t it intriguing how stories of Albertus Magnus, Christian Rosenkreutz, Rudolf II, and the golem of Prague all take us to the same places? If something extraordinary really exists, it’s imperative I see it first. Foretelling the future! So I’m offering letters of protection if you journey to the east, money to live on, and a fortune if you succeed. Your wife is being given the necessary documents as we speak.”
“And if I refuse?”
“I’ll send cutthroats in competition.”
So I was to be a tool of Talleyrand as well as Napoleon and Smith. If I delivered the automaton to him, he would take credit for delivering it to his own master, Napoleon. I am strangely popular. Getting caught between these men was risky, yet maybe I could use this hysteria over an android to get safely out of Paris. Ten thousand francs to find a mechanical man? If everyone in France thought I was their ally, maybe they’d leave me alone.
“I’m flattered by your confidence, Grand Chamberlain, and honored you’d share it on such a crucial day. But this could be a test, so let me say that my first loyalty is to the emperor.”
“As is mine. Our friendship is for the emperor’s good.”
“He wouldn’t be pleased if I gave this android to you instead of him.”
“Nor am I asking you to. Only that I question it first. It could make me a most valuable adviser. But only an adviser.”
“So valuable you can spare ten thousand francs?” I wanted to confirm this figure.
“We’re going to loot Europe. Such funds will be a beggar’s purse.” He said it matter-of-factly.
I swallowed. “You mentioned expenses?”
He opened his cloak. There were pockets sewn inside stuffed with important-looking papers, making him a walking credenza. He fished out some gold coins. “Enough to make inquiries. And here’s a stub of sword.”
“What’s its story?”
“Simply that its missing medieval blade might prove useful. Look for more legends in Bohemia and the lands east. So we’re partners?”
What choice did I have? I was locked in orbit around powerful puppeteers. “Partners.” Meanwhile, I’d entirely forgotten that I was about to corrupt the coronation and, with it, Napoleon’s rule.
“Good! Let’s go inside and witness the crowning. I have a feeling it will be something never quite seen before.”
CHAPTER 19
An aide to Talleyrand replaced my yellow ticket with a gold one. I was escorted without my family to a balcony bench just to the left of the triumphal arch where Napoleon would take his throne. “Wait for your wife here.” Talleyrand would attend on the cathedral floor, in a cluster of the highest ministers.
The air in the cathedral had warmed from the crush. Damp cloaks gave a wet-dog smell, mixed with incense and candles. Pigeons fluttered at the arched ceiling near holes that hadn’t been repaired since the revolution.
I was lucky.