Napoleon sat tall on his horse, overseeing the descent of his infantry upon the Austrian lines. Through his spyglass, he spotted something that didn't surprise him: a white flag being waved from the Austrian ranks – surrender. As he expected, there was no way the Austrians could withstand the overwhelming number of French troops.
"Berthier!" Napoleon called out, and Berthier approached promptly.
"What is it, Your Excellency?" Berthier asked respectfully.
"The Austrians are surrendering. Sound the trumpets," Napoleon said matter-of-factly.
Berthier quickly relayed the command to the nearby trumpeters, and soon, the triumphant fanfare filled the air, echoing across the plains. The soldiers of the French Republic, who had fought fiercely just moments before, paused to listen to the resounding victory call.
And soon, the cannons, the muskets, and the sounds of war fell silent, replaced by a sense of relief and accomplishment. The French soldiers exchanged glances, some with broad smiles, while others shared nods of satisfaction. The victory was theirs.
Napoleon's eyes surveyed the scene, taking in the sight of defeated enemy forces laying down their arms. He had calculated the odds and planned meticulously, and it had all paid off. His leadership and the discipline of his troops had proven formidable once again.
As the white flag continued to flutter in the breeze, Napoleon turned his horse towards his Chief of Staff. "Prepare a message to General Melas," he ordered with an authoritative tone. "Inform him that we have received their surrender, and we expect their full compliance with it."
"Understood, Your Excellency," Berthier said as he returned to the military tent set up just fifty meters away. Inside the tent, he swiftly gathered his aides and began drafting the message to General Melas.
Meanwhile, Napoleon remained on his horse, observing the disarmed Austrian soldiers being escorted to a designated area by French troops. He made mental notes of the number of prisoners, evaluating the extent of the enemy's losses.
Soon, Berthier emerged from the tent with the message in hand, sealed with the official insignia of the French Republic. He handed it to Napoleon, who nodded in approval.
"Send this message with a courier immediately," Napoleon instructed, passing the sealed letter to one of his trusted messengers.
The courier saluted and galloped off towards the direction of the Austrian lines, carrying the letter from Napoleon.
As the sun began to dip lower on the horizon, casting a warm golden glow over the battlefield, Napoleon's thoughts turned to the next steps. Now that the Austrian Army of Italy has surrendered, there's one thing left for him to do. That is to reclaim the republic that he had established three years ago. The Cisalpine Republic.
Turning his horse, he rode back to the military tent, where his corps commanders, Lannes, Victor, Murat, and Desaix, were drinking fine wine from Milan.
"Oh, Your Excellency!" Desaix called, raising a glass of wine in salute as Napoleon approached. "To our glorious victory!"
Napoleon acknowledged the toast with a nod, a faint smile touching his lips.
"Indeed, well done, my loyal commanders. Today, we have achieved a significant victory over the Austrians. With it, we will be able to reclaim the territories that we conquered three years ago."
Napoleon looked at Desaix, which is considered to be one of the best generals of the French Republic in Napoleon's time. He was supposed to die in this battle which would prove to be a major loss to Napoleon. But fortunately, he changed his fate. Just like what he did to La Harpe, he is keeping his best generals alive.
"It's a shame that the cavalry didn't do anything in the battle. We could have swept them if we had crossed the river and the Austrians did not issue a surrender early. But this is a better outcome," Murat commented.
"It would be a waste of men," Lannes added. "So, Murat, why don't you tell your plan to His Excellency?"
"What plan?" Napoleon's gaze flickered to Murat.
Murat gulped as he was about to tell something important to Napoleon.
"Your Excellency, I said to my fellow commanders here that when we return to Paris, I will marry your sister, Caroline. And that, I would like to receive your blessing."
Napoleon's expression softened, his surprise giving way to a warm smile.
"Did you and my sister already talk about marriage? Or you were just planning on marrying her?"
Murat's cheeks flushed slightly as he replied, "Well, Your Excellency, I must admit that I have spoken to Caroline about my intentions. We have known each other for some time now, and our feelings for each other have grown stronger with every passing day."
"And she agreed?" Napoleon inquired, genuinely curious about his sister's response.
Murat's smile widened, and he nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, Your Excellency. Caroline has expressed her feelings for me as well, and she willingly accepted my proposal.
"Well…as long as you promise not to hurt her, and to always treat her with the love and respect she deserves, then you have my blessing," Napoleon assented.
Victor, Lannes, and Desaix exchanged knowing glances, happy for their fellow commander.
"Congratulations, Murat!" Victor exclaimed, raising his glass once more in celebration.
Murat was too speechless for a moment, but then he found his voice.
"Thank you, Your Excellency, and thank you all. Your support means everything to me. I promise you, Caroline's happiness and well-being will always be my top priority."
While having that moment, Berthier entered the tent, interrupting the joyous moment.
Napoleon turned to Berthier and looked at him expectantly.
"Berthier, any news from the Austrians?" Napoleon asked, adopting a formal tone.
"Your Excellency, we have received a response from the Austrians. They are willing to engage in negotiations with you, and they are ready to hear your terms."
"Great, we will have it by eight o'clock in the evening," Napoleon said. He glanced over his shoulder, looking at his commanders. "I will be out for a bit."
As Napoleon stepped outside the tent, he noticed a large number of French troops heading toward the tent. He wondered what was happening but the moment he saw them raising colors, standards, and muskets, that's when he knew what was about to happen.
As if on cue, the French troops cheered his name.
"Bonaparte! Bonaparte!"
The French troops immediately swarmed Napoleon, patting his shoulders and back, expressing their unbridled admiration and respect. Their joyous chants and exuberant cheers filled the air, causing the nearby French soldiers to join in the celebration.
Napoleon basked in the adoration of his troops, spreading his arms and embracing the moment of triumph.
"It's just me, everyone."
This 𝓬ontent is taken from fre𝒆webnove(l).𝐜𝐨𝗺