rendered all the more piratical by the red splash of
mongrel color which covered one of his eyes and spilled
down his neck. "They are a gang of ruffians and make no
mistake," Jane said, as she led them back towards her
offices, "but I have no doubt of their flying, at any rate:
with that sort of wiry muscle they will go in circles
around anything in their weight-class, or over it, and I am
happy to stuff their bellies for them."
"No, sir; there'll be no trouble," the steward of the
headquarters said, rather low, of finding rooms for
Laurence and his officers; even arriving as they had out of
nowhere and without notice. Most of the captains and
officers were encamped out in the quarantine-grounds with
their sick dragons, despite the cold and wet, and the
building was queerly deserted: hushed and silent, as it had
not been even at the low-ebb of the days before Trafalgar,
when nearly all the formations had gone south to help bring
down the French and Spanish fleets.
They all drank Granby's health together, but the party
broke up early, and Laurence was not disposed to linger
afterwards: a few wretched lieutenants sitting together at
a dark table in the corner, not talking; an older captain
snoring with his head tipped against the side of his
armchair, a bottle of brandy empty by his elbow. Laurence
took his dinner alone in his rooms, near the fire; the air
was chill, from the rooms to either side being vacant.
He opened the door at a faint tapping, expecting perhaps
Jane, or one of his men with some word from Temeraire, and
was startled to find instead Tharkay. "Pray come in,"
Laurence said, and belatedly added, "I hope you will
forgive my state." The room was yet disordered, and he had
borrowed a dressing-gown from a colleague's neglected
wardrobe; it was considerably too large around the waist,
and badly crumpled.
"I am come to say good-bye," Tharkay said, and shook his
head, when Laurence had made an awkward inquiry. "No, I
have nothing to complain of; but I am not of your company.
I do not care to stay only to be a translator; it is a rôle
which must soon pall."
"I would be happy to speak to Admiral Roland-perhaps a
commission-" Laurence said, trailing away; he did not know
what might be done, or how such matters were arranged in
the Corps, except to imagine them a good deal less formally
prescribed than in the Army, or the Navy, but he did not
wish to promise what might be wholly infeasible.
"I have already spoken to her," Tharkay said, "and have
been given one, if not the sort you mean; I will go back to
Turkestan and bring back more ferals, if any can be
persuaded into your service on similar terms."
Laurence would have been a good deal happier to have the
ferals already in their service remotely manageable; a
quality they were not more likely to gain, after Tharkay's
departure. But he could not object; it was hard to imagine
Tharkay's pride should allow him to remain as a
supernumerary, even if restlessness alone did not drive him
on. "I will pray for your safe return," Laurence said, and
offered him instead a glass of port, and supper.
"What an odd fellow you have found us, Laurence," Jane said
in her offices, the next morning. "I ought to give him his
weight in gold, if the Admiralty would not squawk: twenty
dragons talked out of the trees, like Merlin; or was it
Saint Patrick? Anyway, I am sorry to rob you of the help,
and pray don't think me ungrateful, if you are in your
rights to complain; it is enough of a miracle you should
have brought us Iskierka and one egg whole, considering the
way Bonaparte has been romping about the Continent, much
less our amiable band of brigands. But I cannot spare the
chance of more, however mean and scrawny they might be; not
with matters as they stand."
The map of Europe was laid out topmost on her table, great
clots of markers, representing dragons, spread from the
western borders of Prussia's former territory all the way
to the footsteps of Russia. "From Jena to Warsaw in three
weeks," she said, as one of her runners poured out wine for
them. "I would not have given a bad ha'penny for the news,
if you had not brought it yourself, Laurence; and if we
hadn't had it from the Navy, too, I would have sent you to
a physician."
Laurence nodded. "And I have a great deal to tell you of
Bonaparte's aerial tactics, which are wholly changed from
what they were. Formations are of no use against him; at
Jena, the Prussians were routed, wholly routed. We must at
once begin devising counters to his new methods."
But she was already shaking her head. "Do you know,
Laurence, I have less than forty dragons fit to fly? and
unless he is a lunatic, he will not come across with less
than a hundred. He shan't need any fine tactics to do for
us. For our part, there is no one to learn any new."
The scope of the disaster silenced him: forty dragons, to
try and patrol all the coastline of the Channel, and give
cover to the ships of the blockade.
"What we want at present is time," Jane continued. "There
are a dozen hatchlings in Ireland, preserved from the
disease, and twice as many eggs due to hatch in the next
six months: we bred a good many of them, early on. If our
friend Bonaparte will only be good enough to give us a
year, things will look something more like: the rest of
these new shore batteries in place, the young dragons
brought up, your ferals knocked into shape; not to mention
Temeraire and our new fire-breather."
"Will he give us a year?" Laurence said, low, looking at
the counters: not very many yet, upon the Channel
coastline; but he had seen first-hand how swiftly
Napoleon's dragon-borne army could now move.
"Not a minute, if he hears anything of our pitiable state,"
Jane said. "But that aside-well, we hear he has made a very
good friend in Warsaw, a Polish countess they say is a
raving beauty; and he would like to marry the Tsar's
sister. We will wish him good fortune in his courting, and
hope he takes a long leisurely time about it. If he is
sensible, he will want a winter night for crossing the
Channel, and the days are already growing longer.
"But you may be sure that if he learns how thin we are on
the ground, he will come posting back quick as lightning,
and damn the ladies. So our task of the moment is to keep
him properly in the dark. A year's time, then we will have
something to work with; but until then, for you all it must
be-"
"Oh, patrolling," Temeraire said, in tones of despair, when
Laurence had brought their orders.
"I am sorry, my dear," Laurence said, "very truly sorry;
but if we can serve our friends at all, it will be by
taking on those duties which they have had to set aside."
Temeraire was silent and brooding, unconsoled; in an
attempt to cheer him, Laurence added, "But we need not
abandon your cause, not in the least. I will write my
mother, and those of my acquaintance who may have the best
advice to give, on how we ought to proceed-"
"Whatever sense is there in it," Temeraire said, miserably,
"when all our friends are ill, and there is nothing to be
done for them? It does not matter if one is not allowed to
visit London, if one cannot even fly an hour. And Arkady
does not give a fig for liberty, anyway; all he wants are
cows. We may as well patrol; or even do formations."
This was the mood in which they went aloft, a dozen of the
ferals behind them more occupied in squabbling amongst
themselves than in paying any attention to the sky;
Temeraire was in no way inclined to make them mind, and
with Tharkay gone, the few hapless officers set upon their
backs had very little hope of exerting any form of control.
These young men had been chosen-from no shortage of
officers, so many men having been grounded by the illness
of their assigned beasts-for their skill in language. The
ferals were all of them far too old to acquire a new tongue
easily; so the officers should have to learn theirs
instead. To hear them trying to whistle and cluck out the
awkward syllables of the Durzagh language had quickly
palled as entertainment and grown a nuisance to the ear,
but it had also to be endured; no-one knew the tongue with
any fluency aside from Temeraire, and a few of Laurence's
younger officers who had acquired a smattering in the
course of their journey to Istanbul.
Laurence had indeed lost two of his already-diminished
number of officers entirely to the cause: one of the
riflemen, Dunne, and Wickley of the bellmen had both of
them enough grasp of Durzagh to make the basic signals
understood to the ferals, and they were not so young as to
make a command absurd. They had been set aboard Arkady in a
highly theoretical position of authority; there was none of
that natural bond which the first harnessing seemed to
produce, of course, and Arkady was far more likely to obey
his own whimsical impulse than any orders which they might
give. The feral leader had already given it as his opinion
that this flying over the ocean was absurd, as a useless
territory in which no reasonable dragon would interest
itself, and the likelihood he would veer away at any moment
in search of better entertainment seemed to Laurence high.
Jane had set them a course along the coastline, for their
first excursion; no risk at all of an action, so near to
land, but at least the cliffs interested the ferals, and
the bustle of shipping around Portsmouth, which they would
gladly have investigated further if not called to order by
Temeraire. They flew on past Southampton and westward along
towards Weymouth, setting a leisurely pace; the ferals
resorting to wild acrobatics to entertain themselves,
swooping to such heights as must have rendered them dizzy
and ill, save for their former habituation among the most
lofty mountains of the earth, and plummeting thence into
absurd and dangerous diving maneuvers, so close they threw
up spray as they skimmed up again from the waves. It was a
sad waste of energy, but well-fed as the ferals now were,
by comparison to their previous state, of energy they had a
surfeit which Laurence was glad enough to see spent in so
restrained a manner, if the officers clinging sickly to
their harnesses did not agree.
"Perhaps we might try a little fishing," Temeraire
suggested, turning his head around, when abruptly Gherni
cried out above them, and the world spun and whirled as
Temeraire flung himself sidelong; a Pêcheur-Rayé went
flying past, and the champagne-popping of rifle-fire spat
at them from his back.
"To stations," Ferris was shouting, men scrambling wildly;
the bellmen were casting off a handful of bombs down on the
recovering French dragon below while Temeraire veered away,
climbing. Arkady and the ferals were shrilly calling to one
another, wheeling excitedly; they flung themselves with
eagerness on the French dragons: a light scouting party of
six, as best Laurence could make out among the low-lying
clouds, the Pêcheur the largest of the lot and the rest all
light-weights or couriers; both outnumbered and outweighed,
therefore, and reckless to be coming so close to British
shores.
Reckless, or deliberately venturesome; Laurence thought
grimly it could not have escaped the notice of the French
that their last encounter had brought no answer from the
coverts.
"Laurence, I am going after that Pêcheur; Arkady and the
others will take the rest," Temeraire said, curving his
head around even as he dived.
The ferals were not shy by any means, and gifted
skirmishers, from all their play; Laurence thought it safe
to leave the smaller dragons entirely to them. "Pray make
no sustained attack," he called, through the speakingtrumpet. "Only roust them from the shore, as quickly as you
may-" as the hollow thump-thump of bombs, exploding below,
interrupted.
Without the hope of surprise, the Pêcheur knew himself
thoroughly overmatched, Temeraire a more agile flyer and in
a wholly different class so far as weight. Having risked
and lost a throw of the dice, he and his captain were
evidently not inclined to try their luck again; Temeraire
had scarcely stooped before the Pêcheur dropped low to the
water and beat away quickly over the waves, his riflemen
keeping up a steady fusillade to clear his retreat.
Laurence turned his attention above, to the furious howling
of the ferals' voices: they could scarcely be seen, having
lured the French high aloft, where their greater ease with
the thin air could tell to their advantage. "Where the
devil is my glass?" he said, and took it from Allen. The
ferals were making a sort of taunting game of the business,