the covert gestures, the attempts at signaling, of nearly
every senior officer, examined her and declared that she
was perfectly fit to fly, "had better fly, I should say;
this agitation is unnatural, and must be worked off."
"But perhaps," Laurence said, voicing the reluctance which
the captains all privately shared, and they as a body began
to suggest flights out over the ocean, along the scenic and
settled coastline and back; gentle exercise.
"I hope," Catherine said, going pink clear up to her
forehead in a wave of color, "I hope that no-one is going
to fuss; I would dislike fuss extremely," and insisted on
joining the hunting party, with Dulcia and Chenery, who
likewise declared himself perfectly well, although Dulcia
would only agree if he was bundled aboard in a heavy cloak,
with a warming brick at his feet.
"After all, it cannot hurt to have more of us: we can make
several parties and cover more ground; we do not need the
dog so badly if the notion is we are looking for larger
patches of the stuff," Chenery said. "Just as well to have
more of the dragons in hailing-distance, if any of us
should run into a larger band of ferals, and your natives
can keep us out of trouble with the animals."
Laurence applied to Erasmus and his wife for their
persuasive assistance, and pressed the cowrie necklace on
Demane to open the conversation, as a preliminary bit of
bribery. He objected vehemently nonetheless, his voice
rising in high complaint, and Mrs. Erasmus said, "He does
not like to go so far, Captain: he says that country
belongs to the dragons, who will come and eat us."
"Pray tell him there is no reason why the feral dragons
should be angry with us; we will only stay a very little
while, to get more of the mushrooms, and our own will
protect us if there is any difficulty," Laurence said,
waving at the fine display the dragons made now. Since
their recovery, even the older beasts who had not acquired
the habit of bathing had been stripped of their harnesses
and scrubbed in the warm ocean until their scales shone,
and all the leather worked and polished until it, too,
gleamed, warm and supple, the buckles glittering bright in
the sun.
The parade grounds themselves had been plowed clean, and
the refuse-pits filled in, now there was only occasional
coughing to manage; the whole fit to welcome an admiral for
inspection, aside from the wreckage of a couple of goats,
whose bones Dulcia and Nitidus were presently meditatively
gnawing. Maximus alone still had a fragile air, but he was
bobbing in the ocean a little way off, his hollow sides
buoyed up by the water and the somewhat faded orange and
red of his hide refreshed by the lingering sunset pouring
in over the wide ripples of the water. The rest of the
dragons were rather bright-eyed and tigerish, having been
worn lean over the course of the sickness; their reawakened
appetites were savage.
"And that is another reason it will be just as well for us
all to go," Chenery said, when Demane had at last been
brought around to reluctant agreement, or at least worn out
from trying to convey his objections through translation.
"Grey is a good fellow, and he has not said as much
outright, yet; but the townsfolk are kicking up a real
dust. It is not just having the dragons about; we are
eating them out of hearth and home. The game is getting
shy; as for cattle, no one can afford to eat beef anymore
at all, and the prices are only getting higher. We had much
better get out into wild country and shift for ourselves,
where we needn't annoy anyone."
It was settled: Maximus would stay to continue his
recovery, and Messoria and Immortalis, to sleep and hunt
for him; Temeraire and Lily would go abroad as far as a
strong day's flight could take them, with little Nitidus
and Dulcia to ferry back their acquisitions, perhaps every
other day, and bring back messages.
They were packed and gone with the sun, in the morning, in
the usual pell-mell way of aviators; the Fiona in the
harbor rising up and falling with the swell, a great deal
of activity on her deck in preparation for the morrow. The
Allegiance was riding farther out to sea; the watch would
be changing in a moment, but for now all was quiet aboard
her. Riley had not come ashore; Laurence had not written.
He turned his face away from the ship and towards the
mountains, dismissing the matter for the present with a
vague sense of leaving the question up to fate: by the time
they returned with mushrooms in any quantity, perhaps there
would be no need to speak; they would have to go home by
way of the Allegiance, and it could not be hidden forever;
he wondered if Catherine did not already look a little
plumper.
Lily set a fine, fast pace; the wind poured over
Temeraire's back as Table Bay rolled away behind them.
Barring a few banks of clouds, penned up against the
slopes, the weather held clear and not windy, good flying,
and there was an extraordinary relief in being once again
in company: Lily on point, with Temeraire bringing up the
rear and Nitidus and Dulcia flying in wing positions, so
their shadows falling on the ground below made the points
of a diamond, skimming over the vineyard rows below in neat
perforated lines of red and brown, past their first
autumnal splendor.
Thirty miles on the wing north-west from the bay took them
past the swelling outcroppings of grey granite at Paarl,
the last settlement in this direction; they did not stop,
but continued on into the rising mountains. A few isolated
and intrepid farmsteads could be glimpsed as they wound
through the passes, clinging to sheltered folds of the
mountain-slopes: the fields browning, the houses nearly
impossible to see without a glass, buried as they were in
stands of trees and their roofs disguised with brown and
green paint.
They stopped to water after mid-day, having come to another
valley between the mountain lines, and to discuss their
course; they had not seen a cultivated field for some halfan-hour now.
"Let us go on another hour or two, and then we shall stop
at the first likely place to make a search," Harcourt said.
"I do not suppose that there is any chance of the dog
scenting them from aloft? The smell of the things is so
very strong."
"The best-trained foxhound in the world cannot pick up a
vixen's trail from horseback, much less from mid-air,"
Laurence said, but they had been aloft again only a turn of
the glass when the dog began barking in furious excitement,
and trying to wriggle free of its harness in the most
heedless way. Fellowes had gradually taken the handling of
the dog into his own hands, disapproving of Demane's
haphazard discipline; his father had been a master of
hounds, in Scotland. He had been giving the thin creature a
gobbet of fresh meat every time it discovered them a
mushroom; by now it would tear away after the least trail
of scent with the greatest enthusiasm.
Temeraire had scarcely landed when it escaped its straps
and went skidding down his side and abruptly vanished into
the high grasses at a place where the slope rose up
sharply. They had come into a wide valley, very warm,
cupped in a bowl of mountains and still richly green
despite the advancing season: fruit-trees everywhere in
curiously even rows.
"Oh; I can smell it, too," Temeraire said, unexpectedly,
and when Laurence had slid down from his shoulder, he was
no longer surprised at the dog's frenzy: the smell was
pronounced, hanging like a miasma in the air.
"Sir," Ferris said, calling: the dog was still invisible,
but its barking was coming to them with a hollow echoing
ring, and Ferris was bending down to the slope; Laurence
came up to him and saw half-hidden by a thicket there was
an opening, a fissure in the dirt and limestone rock. The
dog went silent; in another moment it came scrambling out
of the hole and back up to them, an enormous, an absurdly
enormous mushroom in its mouth, so large its third cap was
dragging upon the ground between the dog's legs and making
it stumble.
It flung the mushroom down, wagging. The opening was near
five feet high, and a gentle slope led downwards. The
stench was astonishing. Laurence pushed up the clot of
vines and moss which hung over the fissure like a curtain,
and stepped inside and down, eyes watering from the smoky
torch which Ferris had improvised out of rags and a treebranch. There was surely a draught somewhere at the far end
of the cavern; it drew like a chimney. Ferris was looking
at him with a half-disbelieving, half-joyful expression,
and as his eyes adjusted to the dimness, Laurence made out
the strange hillocky appearance of the cavern floor, and
knelt to touch: the floor was covered, covered in
mushrooms.
"There is not a moment to lose," Laurence said. "If you
hurry, the Fiona may not yet have gone; if she has, you
must go and recall her-she will not have gone far; she will
not have rounded Paternoster Bay."
All the crews were busy, breathless; the grass of the field
had been trampled flat, and Temeraire's belly-netting and
Lily's was spread out on the ground, every bag and chest
emptied out to be filled with mushrooms, heaps and heaps. A
small pale cream-colored breed shared the cavern with the
great double-and triple-capped monsters, and also a large
black fungus which grew in slabs, but the harvesters were
making no attempt to discriminate: sorting could wait.
Nitidus and Dulcia were already vanishing into the
distance, sacks and sacks slung across their backs giving
them a curiously lumpy appearance in silhouette against the
sky.
Laurence had the map of the coastline dug out of
Temeraire's bags, and was showing him the likely course the
Fiona would have followed. "Go as quickly as you can, and
bring back more men. Messoria and Immortalis, too, if they
can manage the flight; and tell Sutton to ask the governor
for everyone who can be spared from the castle, all the
soldiers, and no damned noise about flying, either."
"He can always get them drunk if need be," Chenery said,
without lifting his head; he was sitting by the netting and
keeping a tally as the mushrooms were thrown in, his lips
moving in the count along with his fingers. "So long as
they can stumble back and forth by the time you have got
them here, they may be soused to their skulls."
"Oh, and barrels, also," Harcourt added, looking up from
the stump where she was sitting, with a cool cloth soaked
in water upon her forehead: she had attempted to help with
the harvest, but the stink had overwhelmed her, and after a
second round of vomiting, painful to all of them to hear,
Laurence had at last persuaded her to go and sit outside
instead. "That is, if Keynes thinks the mushrooms had
better be preserved here; and oil and spirits."
"But I do not like our all leaving you here," Temeraire
said a little mulishly. "What if that big feral should come
back again, or another one? Or lions: I am sure I hear
lions, not very far away." There was not the least sound of
anything but monkeys, howling in the tree-tops at a fair
distance, and birds clamoring.
"We will be perfectly safe: from dragons, or lions, too,"
Laurence said. "We have a dozen guns and more, and we need
only step into the cave to hold them off forever: that
mouth would not let in an elephant, much less a dragon, and
they will not be able to fetch us out."
"But Laurence," Temeraire said quietly, putting his head
down to speak confidentially; at least, as he fancied.
"Lily tells me that Harcourt is carrying an egg; surely at
least she ought to come, and I am sure she will not, if you
refuse."
"Why, damn you for a back-alley lawyer; I suppose you have
cooked this up between the two of you," Laurence said,
outraged at the deliberate calculation of this appeal, and
Temeraire had the grace to look ashamed of himself, but
only a little. Lily did not even do as much, but abandoning
subterfuge only said to Harcourt, wheedling, "Pray, pray,
do come."
"For Heaven's sake, enough cosseting," Catherine said. "In
any case, I will do much better sitting here in the cool
shade than tearing back and forth, weighing you down to no
purpose when you might be carrying another pair of hands
instead. No, not a man will you take; only make all the
speed in the world, and the sooner you have gone, the
sooner you will come back again," she added.
The belly-netting was as full as it could be without
cramming, and Temeraire and Lily were got off at last,
still making wistful complaints. "Near enough five hundred,
already," Chenery said triumphantly, looking up from his