Inferno

Chapter 47

Kiel, province of Holstein, Denmark

Renzi made his goodbyes the next morning. He had been firm with Cecilia. It was not necessary for her to accompany him on an uncomfortable journey to Kiel to meet the Crown Prince in what would amount to little more than an army encampment. Why not extend her friendship with Frue Rosen?

This was not all from concern for her: he needed time to think.

The conceit of his visit as a personal gesture from King George had opened every door – but he had first to engage with the real wielders of power in the little kingdom, then cultivate a relationship of disinterested trust. But whatever he said would have no weight, no binding significance that could be translated into a formal agreement, let alone a treaty.

He’d already settled on the approach: in his character of royal concern for Denmark he would feel it appropriate to be ready with well-meant advice, placing alternatives before them in a way that could never be contemplated by a diplomat. If, miraculously, he could bring about a change of heart he could leave Garlike to conclude the formalities.

But, damn it, what unanswerable arguments could he use to bring about this miracle?

Cecilia’s words came back to haunt him. Could it be that he was intended to fail, that the government and military wanted a tangible victory and a vanquished foe to dictate terms to rather than tamely accept a diplomatic solution?

Either way, time was running out.

Bleary-eyed he joined the other passengers on deck for the last mile to Kiel docks, no nearer to a way through to allow the Danes an honourable settlement.

There was no ceremonial guard of welcome, so near to the buffer territory facing Bernadotte’s army. Instead, a small carriage and four hussars waited impatiently.

A serious-looking individual stood apart, grave and upright. ‘Count Christian Bernstorff, my lord. You are expected.’

There was no conversation from the unsmiling figure as they clopped along the avenues to a point opposite the docks where a frowning Germanic red-stone chateau dominated. Once inside Bernstorff lost no time in taking Renzi to a mock-medieval hall, hung with faded tapestries and suits of armour. ‘My lord, I’ve a communication from my brother concerning your visit. And it disturbs me, sir.’

‘Why so, Count Bernstorff?’

‘You cannot be unaware of the delicate – no, acute plight we find ourselves in. If all the skills of diplomacy cannot attain a measure of agreement, how can you think to?’

‘My sovereign desires I should spare nothing to bring about a reconciliation.’

‘There are some who would say that the British government is using your mission as an unfair tactic to gain ascendancy over the Crown Prince to sway his decisions in their favour.’ He paused. ‘I am not one of them, my lord.’

‘Thank you,’ Renzi said drily.

‘I believe you to be sincere in your intentions, and those of your king. You will have your audience, but be assured, should you press His Royal Highness in matters outside your competence I shall have no other alternative than to intervene.’

‘Sir, I understand your position.’

‘Then I will allow that you are arrived and do seek an early meeting.’