Reincarnated as Napoleon II-Chapter 164: They Refused, So Here’s Our Answer

"Okay," Villeneuve laughed.

It was a short laugh, flat and without warmth.

The Viceroy did not react. His expression remained composed, but the officials standing behind him looked far less certain now. One of them shifted his weight. Another tightened his grip on the scroll in his hand.

Villeneuve straightened and adjusted the front of his coat.

"Tell him," he said to Remy, "that the Emperor of France gave us a mission. We intend to complete it."

Remy translated carefully.

The Viceroy listened in silence, then replied at once. His tone was calmer than before, though there was a harder edge beneath it.

Remy listened, then turned back.

"He says the Qing Empire has already given its answer."

Villeneuve nodded.

"And now we have given ours."

Remy relayed the line.

The Viceroy held Villeneuve’s gaze for several seconds. Then he said something else, longer this time.

Remy listened.

"He says that if your fleet attempts to go north, the responsibility for what follows will be yours."

Villeneuve’s expression did not change.

"That is acceptable."

Remy translated.

A murmur passed among the Qing officials. The governor of Canton looked toward the Viceroy, who lifted a hand slightly, silencing the room.

Villeneuve stepped back from the table.

"Come, Remy."

The merchant hesitated only long enough to bow politely toward the Chinese officials before following him out of the customs office.

Outside, the light from the river struck them immediately. The harbor was still busy, but the mood had shifted. Word had clearly begun to spread. Dockworkers glanced toward them. Chinese merchants standing under the eaves of nearby warehouses stopped speaking as the French envoy and his translator emerged.

Farther out, beyond the smaller boats and the merchant traffic, the fleet remained anchored in the Pearl River.

The dark hull of the Napoleon I stood above the water like a wall.

Remy walked beside Villeneuve in silence for several seconds before speaking.

"So that is it."

"Yes."

"They refused."

"Yes."

Remy glanced toward the flagship.

"And now?"

Villeneuve did not slow his pace.

"Now we stop waiting."

They reached the landing point where a French launch had been left for them.

Two sailors stood ready beside it.

The moment they saw Villeneuve approaching, both men straightened.

"Monsieur."

"Take us to the flagship," Villeneuve said.

"Yes, monsieur."

They stepped into the launch, and the sailors pushed off immediately. Oars cut into the water in fast, even strokes as the small boat left the dock and headed toward the main channel.

Villeneuve sat at the bow, his eyes fixed on the fleet ahead.

Remy remained across from him.

"You are certain about this?" he asked quietly.

Villeneuve looked at him.

"The Emperor did not send fourteen ships across the world to sit in Canton like traders waiting for warehouse permits."

Remy nodded slowly.

"That is true."

Villeneuve looked back toward the flagship.

"The Qing court made its choice."

The launch moved past several Chinese junks. Their crews watched the French boat pass with open curiosity and growing unease. Some of them were already staring toward the warships farther out in the river, as though expecting movement at any moment.

When the launch finally reached the side of the Napoleon I, a rope ladder was already waiting.

Villeneuve climbed first.

The moment he reached the main deck, a marine saluted sharply.

"Monsieur Villeneuve."

"Take me to Admiral Maisonneuve."

"Yes, monsieur."

Remy followed him across the deck. Around them, the ship’s crew was already working through the routine motions of an anchored warship at readiness. Men moved along the railings. Others hauled equipment across the deck. Officers stood in conversation near the forward superstructure.

They found Admiral Pierre François Étienne Bouvet de Maisonneuve standing near the bridge with a telescope in hand.

He turned as Villeneuve approached.

"Well?"

Villeneuve did not bother with ceremony.

"They refused."

Maisonneuve lowered the telescope completely.

"The court?"

"Yes."

"No permission to proceed north?"

"None."

The admiral was silent for a moment. Then he nodded once.

"And?"

Villeneuve stepped closer.

"And we are leaving."

The admiral studied him.

"You are certain?"

Villeneuve met his gaze directly.

"The mission has not changed. We go north."

Maisonneuve looked past him toward the distant shoreline of Canton. Then he turned back to the officers standing nearby.

"Signal the squadron."

At once the deck came alive.

An officer hurried toward the signal station. Another shouted for the bridge crew. A boatswain’s whistle cut through the air. Men on deck snapped into motion.

Remy watched the change ripple across the flagship with visible tension.

Flags began rising up the mast.

Prepare for departure.

Recall all shore parties.

Raise steam to maneuvering power.

The signal flags were answered almost immediately from the other ships of the squadron.

Across the river, the battlecruisers Austerlitz and Trafalgar responded first.

Then the heavy cruisers Marseille and Bordeaux.

Then the destroyers.

Even farther back, near the merchant anchorage, the three Victory-class merchant ships began their own preparations.

The fleet was waking up.

Maisonneuve gave another order.

"All personnel ashore are to be recalled immediately. No delays."

"Yes, Admiral."

Longboats were lowered from the sides of the warships.

Bugle calls echoed faintly over the river.

Onshore, in the foreign quarter of Canton, French sailors who had been unloading goods, carrying messages, or simply resting in temporary quarters heard the recall within minutes.

At a warehouse near the docks, a junior officer burst through the doors.

"Back to the ships! All hands recalled!"

The men inside looked up at once.

"What happened?"

"Orders from the flagship. Immediate departure."

They did not ask again.

Crates were dropped where they stood. Ledgers were shut. Cups of tea were abandoned on tables. Within moments, boots were pounding across the dock roads as French sailors hurried back toward the river.

Chinese laborers stepped aside as they passed. Some stared openly. Others began whispering to one another.

"They are leaving."

"Why so suddenly?"

"Did the court refuse them?"

At the water’s edge, French launches were already waiting.

One boat after another pulled away from the shoreline carrying sailors, officers, and marines back toward the fleet.

From the bridge of the Napoleon I, Maisonneuve watched the movement through his glass.

"Good," he said quietly. "Fast."

Beside him, his first officer nodded.

"The shore parties are moving well."

"They had better."

Steam began to pour more heavily from the funnels now.

Deep inside the ship, the engines were being brought fully online. The rumble beneath the steel deck grew stronger.

Chain rattled from the bow as the anchor detail prepared.

Across the water, the same sounds were beginning to rise from the rest of the squadron.

The Austerlitz and Trafalgar had already started venting more smoke. Their dark hulls seemed to shift slightly as power came alive in their engines.

Destroyers moved first, as they often did.

Jean Bart and Surcouf began taking in anchor.

Then Duguay-Trouin and Forbin.

Their slim hulls turned slightly into the current, preparing to move.

Back aboard the Napoleon I, Remy stood near the rail looking toward the shore.

"Canton sees us."

Villeneuve joined him.

"Yes."

On the docks and rooftops of the riverfront, more people were gathering. Harbor workers. Merchants. Clerks. Boat crews. They all looked toward the anchored French fleet as the great ships began to stir.

One Chinese junk that had drifted too near the flagship now hurriedly pushed its oars into the water, backing away from the channel.

Another followed.

Word spread fast in port cities.

And the sight of an entire foreign battle fleet preparing to move upriver spread faster than most.

A lookout called down from high above the bridge.

"Movement ahead!"

Maisonneuve raised his telescope again.

At first he saw only river traffic.

Then, farther out near the broader channel leading from the delta, the picture became clearer.

Chinese junks.

Not one or two, but many.

They were spreading across the water in a loose line.

Some were armed river craft. Others looked like hastily gathered patrol vessels. Their sails were up. Oars moved hard along their sides. They were not fleeing.

They were positioning.

Maisonneuve’s expression hardened.

"They are trying to block the channel."

His first officer looked through his own glass.

"They cannot seriously believe those boats will stop this fleet."

Maisonneuve said nothing.

He kept the telescope steady.

The line of junks continued to grow.

Some moved in from side channels. Others came directly from the harbor side of Canton. Together they were forming a barrier across the passage out of the delta.

Behind him, the anchor chains of the Napoleon I clattered upward.

The great ship was nearly ready to move.

Maisonneuve lowered the glass.

"Signal the fleet," he said.

The officer beside him turned at once.

"What signal, Admiral?"

Maisonneuve kept his eyes on the line of Chinese vessels ahead.

"Stand by for obstruction."

Across the river, the French squadron continued hauling in anchor.

And at the mouth of the delta, under the humid summer sky of southern China, the officials of Canton answered with what ships they had—rows of junks spreading across the water, trying to block the path north.