"Yes, westward." The Cavalryman nodded. "Our company commander has been watching them. There are at least twenty thousand enemy troops, and they have reached a point three kilometers from the Bormida River."
Napoleon looked into the distance in puzzlement and muttered, "What are the Austrians trying to do?"
At present, his troops had suffered heavy casualties and were exhausted. Any enemy commander with even a shred of military common sense could not possibly pass up such a perfect opportunity to attack him.
Could they be trying to lull me into complacency?
Napoleon shook his head. Given the current situation, if the Austrian Army to the north did not keep him pinned down, he could immediately go attack Melas at Cabianca in the south.
Are they using their own Commander-in-Chief as bait?
No, no. There must be some conspiracy here. I must not be fooled by appearances. I need to think this through...
Just as Napoleon was racking his brains to no avail, a Captain directed several soldiers to set a stretcher before him, then stood at attention. "Commander, this man says Amedeo III sent him with a letter."
Napoleon glanced at the man lying on the stretcher. He was around thirty, dressed in a Sardinian Army uniform, with his left leg wrapped in bandages soaked through with blood. He had clearly been wounded.
He frowned. "Who is he?"
"He says his name is Eugenio," the Captain who had brought him said hesitantly. "Last night, he sneaked toward our Camp. The soldiers saw that he was a Sardinian, so... so they opened fire."
Napoleon crouched beside Eugenio and asked, "The King of Sardinia sent you to find me?"
The latter nodded, pale-faced, and said weakly, "His Majesty has withdrawn our army... back to Turin."
"Are you telling the truth?"
"Yes. Last