October 9th, 1799. The sun had just begun its ascent over the horizon, casting a golden hue across the vast expanse of the Mediterranean Sea. On the deck of the French Navy flagship, the L'Orient, Napoleon Bonaparte stood tall, his gaze fixed on the distant shores of Toulon.
The gentle sway of the ship beneath his feet was a familiar rhythm, a constant companion throughout his arduous campaign in the Orient. The wind caressed his face, carrying with it the salty scent of the sea.
Surrounded by the loyal officers and soldiers who had fought alongside him, Napoleon exuded an air of quiet confidence.
"We are approaching the port of Toulon, General Bonaparte," Murat announced.
"Yes, I can see that," Napoleon said as his gaze remained fixed on the shores of Toulon.
It has been four months since he left the Middle East and transferred command of the Army of the Orient to General Kleber. After one month of riding on the camel's horseback to the wide expanse of desert and two months to sail across the sea, Napoleon's mind had been consumed with thoughts of his return to France. The memories of his victories in Egypt and his ambitions to expand French influence in the Orient still burned brightly within him.
It was a shame, a real shame that he couldn't extend French influences in India. But on the positive side, he had conquered the Arabian Peninsula, so that's worthy of celebration, he thought. The Arabian Peninsula was a strategic gateway to the East, and the acquisition of such territory would undoubtedly bolster France's presence in the region.
"Uhm...General Bonaparte?" A familiar voice called his name. Napoleon shifted his gaze from the shores of Toulon to the man who called him. He recognized him in an instant, it was Bouchard, one of the savants he brought to Egypt and the one responsible for modernizing Egypt and conquered states. "A word?"
Napoleon simply nodded and then followed Bouchard inside the cabin.
Bouchard led Napoleon to a large table in the center of the room. On the table lay a rolled blueprint. His hands trembled slightly with excitement as he delicately unfurled the blueprint onto the tabletop. The intricate lines and detailed drawings sprawled across the parchment, showcasing a visionary design.
"General, after months of research and careful planning, I am proud to present to you my greatest achievement," Bouchard announced.
It carried tons of gold, jewels, precious artifacts, and other spoils that had been amassed during their conquests. If he were to calculate its modern value, it would peak at 500 million dollars.
Satisfied by the sight, he turned around and looked for the man that he brought along on his journey. Thomas Alexandre Dumas. His Caribbean General fought and marched alongside him in Jaffa, Acre, Damascus, Mecca, and Diriyah. He had proven himself capable of extraordinary leadership and bravery. Napoleon spotted General Dumas amidst the crowd, his tall and imposing figure standing out.
"General Dumas!" Napoleon called, snapping Dumas out of his melancholic reverie. General Dumas turned towards the sound of his name and made his way toward Napoleon with a respectful stride.
"General Bonaparte. Can I help you?"
"You must be eager to see your wife," Napoleon said. "I can tell since you have been silent most of the time in our journey."
General Dumas nodded somberly. "I apologize, General Bonaparte...it's just that I'm."
"Look, you don't have to explain yourself," Napoleon said, gently pressing his shoulder. "I know the pain of losing a loved one, General Dumas. If something were to happen to my own children, I would be devastated. Your grief is valid, and it is only natural to feel the weight of such a loss. Know that you are not alone in this journey, and if there is anything I can do to support you, please do not hesitate to ask."
General Dumas's eyes welled up with tears. "Thank you, General Bonaparte. Your understanding means more to me than words can express. I will carry my daughter's memory in my heart and draw strength from it to fulfill my duties to the best of my abilities."
Napoleon nodded, his respect for General Dumas deepening. "Just take all the time you need."
While in the middle of the somber conversation, Murat chimed in.
"General Bonaparte, we are now arriving at Toulon," Murat announced, extending his arm towards the shore.
Napoleon turned his gaze towards the approaching port of Toulon. There, on the shores, a crowd had gathered, waving their hands and cheering loudly.
A smile tugged at the corners of Napoleon's lips as he observed the enthusiastic crowd.
"Yeah, I'm back!"