instead, Erasmus shook his head. "Evil should not be
returned for evil," he said. "Their judgment belongs to the
Lord: my answer to their crimes will be to return to my
fellows with the word of God. And I hope that the practice
cannot long continue when we are all brothers in Christ, so
that the slaver and his prey will both be saved."
Temeraire was dubious of this most Christian speech, and
after Erasmus had left them muttered, "I would not give a
fig for the slavers, myself; and God ought to judge them
more quickly," a blasphemous remark which made Laurence
blanch, lest Wilberforce should have overheard; but his
attention was fortunately elsewhere at present, on a
growing noise at the far end of the long clearing, where a
crowd was gathering.
"I wonder he should have come," Wilberforce said: it was
Nelson himself, who had entered the clearing in the company
of several friends, some of them naval officers of
Laurence's acquaintance, and was presently paying his
respects to Lord Allendale. "Of course we did not omit an
invitation, but I had no real expectation; perhaps because
it was sent in your name. Forgive me, I will take myself
off awhile; I am happy enough to have him come and lend his
reflected glow to our party, but he has said too much in
public for me to converse easily with him."
Laurence was better pleased, for his own part, to find
Nelson not offended in the least at whatever whispers and
comparisons had been put about between them; that gentleman
was rather as amiable as anyone could wish, offering his
good hand. "William Laurence; you have gone a long way
since we last met. I think we were at dinner together on
the Vanguard in ninety-eight, before Aboukir Bay: how very
long ago, and how short a time it seems!"
"Indeed, sir; and I am honored your Grace should remember,"
Laurence said, and at his request rather anxiously took him
back to be presented to Temeraire, adding, when Temeraire's
ruff ominously unfurled at the name, "I hope you will make
his Grace most welcome, my dear; it is very kind of him to
come and be our guest."
Temeraire, never very tactful, was unfortunately not to be
warned by so subtle a hint, and rather coldly asked, "What
has happened to your medals? They are all quite misshapen."
This, he certainly meant as a species of insult; however
Nelson, who famously preferred only to win more glory, than
to speak of what he already had gained, could not have been
better pleased at the excuse to discuss the battle, told
over so thoroughly by the public before ever he had risen
from his injuries, with an audience for once innocent of
the details. "Why, a rascal of a Spanish fire-breather gave
us a little trouble, at Trafalgar, and they were caught in
the flame," he said, taking one of the ample number of
vacant chairs at the table nearby, and arranging bread
rolls for the ships.
Temeraire, growing interested despite himself, leaned in
closely to observe their maneuvers on the cloth. Nelson did
not flinch back in the least, though the onlookers who had
gathered to observe took nearly all of them several steps
back. He described the Spanish dragon's passes with a fork
and much lurid detail, and further rescued his character,
in Temeraire's eyes, by concluding, "And very sorry I am
that we did not have you there: I am sure you should have
had no trouble in running the creature off."
"Well, I am sure, too," Temeraire said candidly, and peered
at the medals again with more admiration. "But would the
Admiralty not give you fresh ones? That is not very
handsome of them."
"Why, I consider these a better badge of honor, dear
creature, and I have not applied for replacement," Nelson
said. "Now, Laurence, do I recall correctly; can I possibly
have read a report in the Gazette that this very dragon of
yours lately sank a French ship, called the Valérie, I
believe, and in a single pass?"
"Yes, sir; I believe Captain Riley of the Allegiance sent
in his report, last year," Laurence said uneasily; that
report had rather understated the incident, and while he
was proud of Temeraire's ability, it was not the sort of
thing he thought civilian guests would find reassuring;
still less so should any of them learn that the French,
too, now had their own Celestial, and that the same
dreadful power might be turned against their own shipping.
"Astonishing; quite prodigious," Nelson said. "What was
she, a sloop-of-war?"
"A frigate, sir," Laurence answered, even more reluctantly.
"-forty-eight guns."
There was a pause. "I cannot be sorry, although it was hard
on the poor sailors," Temeraire said, into the silence,
"but it was not very noble of them, stealing upon us during
the night, when their dragon could see in the dark and I
could not."
"Certainly," Nelson said, over a certain murmur from the
assembled company; he, having recovered from his surprise,
had rather a quick martial gleam in his eye, "certainly; I
congratulate you. I think I must have some conversation
with the Admiralty, Captain, on your present station; you
are on coastline duty at present, am I not correct? A
waste; an unconscionable waste; you may be sure they will
hear from me on the subject. Do you suppose he could manage
as much on a ship-of-the-line?"
Laurence could not explain the impossibility of a change in
their assignment without revealing the secret; so he
answered a little vaguely, with gratitude for his Grace's
interest.
"Very clever," Lord Allendale said grimly, in conference
with them and Wilberforce, when Nelson had gone away again,
nodding his farewells in the most affable manner to all who
sought his attention. "I suppose we must consider it a
badge of success that he should prefer to send you away."
"Sir, I believe you are mistaken; I cannot allow his
motives on this matter to be other than sincere, in wishing
the best use made of Temeraire's abilities," Laurence said
stiffly.
"It is very boring, always going up and down the coast,"
Temeraire put in, "and I should much rather have some more
interesting work, like fighting fire-breathers, if we were
not needed where we are; but I suppose we must do our
duty," he finished, not a trifle wistfully, and turned his
attention back to the other guests, who were all the more
eager to speak with him now in imitation of Nelson's
example: the party most assuredly a success.
"Laurence, may we fly over the quarantine-grounds, as we
go, and see how comes the pavilion?" Temeraire asked, the
next morning, as they made ready for the flight back to
Dover.
"It will not be very far advanced," Laurence said;
Temeraire's ulterior motive, to look into the quarantinegrounds to see Maximus and Lily, was tolerably transparent:
there had been no reply to the letters which Laurence had
sent, either to them or to their captains, and Temeraire
had begun to inquire after them with increasing impatience.
Laurence feared Temeraire's likely reaction to seeing them
so reduced by illness as he supposed them to be, but could
think of no very good reason with which to divert him.
"But I should like to see it in all its stages," Temeraire
said, "and if they have made any mistakes, we ought to
correct it early, surely," he finished triumphantly, with
the air of having hit upon an unanswerable justification.
"Is there any reason to fear infection in the air?"
Laurence asked Dorset quietly, aside. "Will there be a
danger to flying over the grounds?"
"No, so long as he keeps a good distance from any of the
sick beasts. It is certainly the phlegmatic humors which
carry the infection. So long as he does not put himself
directly in the way of a sneeze or a cough, I cannot think
the danger substantial, not aloft," Dorset said absently,
without much consideration to the question, which did not
fill Laurence with great confidence.
But he settled for extracting a promise that Temeraire
should stay well aloft, where perhaps he might not see the
worst of the ravages which had been inflicted on his
friends, nor approach any dragon in the air.
"Of course I promise," Temeraire said, adding,
unconvincingly, "I only want to see the pavilion, after
all; it is nothing to me if we see any other dragons."
"You must be sure, my dear, or Mr. Dorset will not
countenance our visit; we must not disturb the sick
dragons, who require their rest," Laurence said, resorting
to stratagem, which at last won Temeraire's sighs and
agreement.
Laurence did not truly expect to see any dragons aloft; the
ill beasts only rarely left the ground anymore, for the
brief showy patrols which Jane continued to use to keep up
their illusion of strength for the French. The day was
cloudy and drear, and as they flew towards the coast, they
met a thin misting of rain blowing in from the Channel; the
exertion surely would not be asked of the sick dragons.
The quarantine-grounds were inland of Dover itself, the
borders marked off by smoking torches and large red flags,
planted into the ground: low deserted rolling meadows, the
dragons scattered about with little cover even from the
wind, which snapped all the flags out crisply and made them
all huddle down small to escape. But as Temeraire drew near
the proscribed territory, Laurence saw three specks,
increasing rapidly into three dragons: aloft, and flying
energetically, two on the heels of a much smaller third.
Temeraire said, "Laurence, that is Auctoritas and
Caelifera, from Dover, I am sure of it, but I do not know
that other little dragon at all; I have never seen one of
that kind."
"Oh, Hell, that is a Plein-Vite," Ferris said, after a
single borrowed look through Laurence's glass. The three
dragons were directly over the quarantine-grounds, and the
great miserable hulks of other sick beasts were plainly
visible for the French dragon to see, even through the
mist, in all their bloodstained dirt. And already the two
dragons who had attempted to halt her were falling off the
pace and drooping earthwards, exhausted, as the tiny French
dragon darted and looped and evaded, beating her wings
mightily, and flung herself past the borders of the
grounds, heading towards the Channel as quick as ever she
could go.
"After her, Temeraire," Laurence said, and they leapt into
pursuit, Temeraire's enormous wings beating once to every
five of hers, but eating up the yards with every stroke.
"They haven't much endurance, they're close-couriers only,
for all they're fast as bloody lightning; they must have
brought her nearly up to the coast by boat, at night, to
save her strength for the flight back," Ferris said,
shouting over the knife-cut wind. Laurence only nodded, to
save his voice: Bonaparte had likely been hoping to slip so
small a messenger-beast through where the larger had not
been able to manage.
He raised the speaking-trumpet and bellowed, "Rendezvous,"
to no effect. The flare they fired off for emphasis,
launched ahead of the little dragon's nose, was a signal
less easily missed or misinterpreted, but there was no
slackening in the furious pace. The Plein-Vite had only a
small pilot, a young boy scarcely much older than Roland or
Dyer, whose pale and frightened face Laurence could plainly
see in his glass as the boy looked back to see the vast
black-winged pursuit ready to engulf him. He turned back to
speak encouragement to his beast, casting off bits of
harness and buckle as she flew: the boy even kicked off his
shoes, and threw overboard his belt with its sword and
pistol, flashing in the sunlight as they turned end-overend, surely prized treasures; and heartened by her rider's
example, with an effort the little dragon began to speed
her strokes and pull away, her advantage in speed and small
breadth before the wind telling.
"We must bring her down," Laurence said grimly, lowering
his glass; he had seen what effect the divine wind had on
enemy dragons of fighting-weight, and on soldiers under
arms: what damage it might wreak, upon so small and
helpless a target, he neither liked to think nor wished to
witness, but their duty was plain. "Temeraire, you must
stop them; we cannot let them slip away."
"Laurence, she is so very little," Temeraire objected
unhappily, turning his head only just enough to be heard;
he was still pressing on after her, with all the will in
the world, but she would not be caught.
"We cannot try to board her," Laurence answered, "she is
too small and too quick; it would be a death-sentence to
make any man attempt that leap. If she will not surrender,
she must be brought down. She is pulling away; it must be
now."