Tongues of Serpents (34 page)

“If we could not rely on the letter’s remaining secure and unread,” Laurence said, “at least it would not take the better part of a year to arrive; and I suppose I would trust Hammond’s sense of the situation better than ours.”

“Better than Whitehall’s, also,” Granby said, and looked at Tharkay, “unless you know more of that than we do?”

Tharkay shrugged noncommittally.

Laurence struggled to form some plan of attack, some approach not hideously clumsy in execution, and to further complicate the matter, he would have to rely on Temeraire to translate as his own Chinese was a limited mess and half-forgotten. The occasion could only be uncomfortable; it must seem in some sense almost a threat, or at least interference. Laurence thought it nearly certain he should give offense, and to gentlemen who could not resent it, very nearly the worst solecism he could imagine for his own part; but he had in some sense an obligation to both parties, which demanded the effort of reconciliation: however inadequate he might be to the task, he and Temeraire at least were present, and there was no better interlocutor to be had.

Certainly the Government would likely wish to challenge the encroachment on Britain’s trade, if not the mere existence of what might be termed a colony, although the Chinese seemed less particularly interested in peopling the territory than in forming relations with the native tribesmen, and profiting by the extension of their trade. China’s strength was in her aerial forces, but one light-weight dragon, or even
four, if all the other of Lung Shen Li’s breed were brought hence, could not withstand the full force of a British naval expedition, nor modern weaponry, if brought to bear against them.

But all concerns Laurence might have had and all his planning were by the next morning overturned: on the tide, a small fleet of vessels began to come into the harbor: more of the Macassan praus armed with their narrow sleek canoes, but these bringing in great heaps of ripe tropical fruit and carved wooden vessels to be carefully unloaded onto the shore and added to the other stores already under shelter. Several seeming officers of this company were met with some ceremony upon the shore, and invited into the other quarters of the house: and Laurence realized belatedly that the dinner would not be a private event, as Gong Su came and asked if he might offer his assistance with the burgeoning preparations.

Jia was now quite unavailable for any private conference, either, consumed with attentions to his rapidly increasing number of guests: the next morning, Laurence woke and saw in the harbor a launch rowing to the jetty, from a neat little merchant sloop of six guns, an American; and a Dutch vessel came in on the next tide, in the evening.

“The flow of goods to Sydney begins to look incidental,” Tharkay observed: by the evening of the dinner, a Portuguese barque had joined the increasing throng, and without wishing to play the spy, Laurence had seen some dozen small and heavy chests brought onto shore, carefully, and set into the dragon pavilion under guard: almost certainly coinage, and in enough quantity judging by the size to pay for holds full of silk and porcelain and tea; where these goods were to come from, however, Laurence did not see.

“I cannot see why they should not be delivering them by air,” Temeraire said, a little absently; he felt anyone might have been distracted, with chests quite full of gold and silver only sitting there in the corner of the building, and such splendid smells as were rising from the cooking vats upon the shore. Oh! the smell of roasted sesame; and the women were hulling exquisitely ripe longan fruits directly inside the pavilion, and heaping them into enormous bowls: the greatest self-restraint was called for, and Temeraire was not sure if he could have managed it, but for the coming occasion.

“But I will ask Shen Li,” he added, “when she comes back again,
although Laurence, I will tell you privately, I was quite right: there is something very peculiar about her, and I am sure it is all these long stretches aloft. She is perfectly pleasant, no-one could ever complain of her; but unless one speaks to her she will only sit quite still without saying a word, for hours and hours, and if one should ask what she is thinking, she says she is trying to
stop
thinking.”

The magnificence of the coming dinner did make Temeraire feel a little awkward and anxious. He was privately conscious he did not look his best himself, as he had grown a little thin over their journey, and all the sea-bathing in the world had not yet sufficed to clear all the red dust from his hide; his scales were not quite so glossy as he might have liked, and he was sadly conscious that the edges of his wings were ragged. His breastplate had collected several scratches and dents, which Mr. Fellowes with all the will in the world had not quite been able to correct—Temeraire sadly missed having a proper blacksmith.

But at least he did have his talon-sheaths, and Tharunka had offered him some of the oil which she was using upon her own hide, against the dry, hot climate; the effect, Temeraire thought, would be particularly elegant on his black scales.

“I don’t mind sharing at all; I
am
sorry you had to come all this way,” she said, in what he felt was a handsomely apologetic manner, “especially as no, I don’t suppose I will come back. It is no reflection on the Corps, I am sure, as your captain seems a fine lot; but I can’t be fond of any of these officers you have brought along. They are all too pushy by half, and there is no really good fellow-feeling, as anyone might like to have around. Maybe I don’t have a particular captain of my own, but I am pretty sure of good company any time of day or night if I want it, here with the Larrakia or anywhere in the country; and I don’t have to sleep in a covert, or on a ship, or in some lonesome valley.”

Temeraire could see the sense of her decision, if one cared to have quite a large circle, as most Reapers did seem to. Although he himself could be perfectly content with no other society so long as he had Laurence, certainly none of the other aviators was nearly as good, as Tharunka showed good judgment in recognizing; and the aviators might stop going around muttering and complaining of waste, if they did not choose to be better.

However, in one respect Temeraire did have to blush for Laurence, and for himself: there was no possible consolation for the appearance which Laurence would have to present at the coming dinner, the most
particular and notable occasion they had met in this whole country since arriving. Temeraire struggled with his pride, and then yielded: when next Jia Zhen came by the pavilion, Temeraire dropped his head and deeply conscious of embarrassment began to try and explain—the length of the journey—the unsettled state of England after the invasion—the minor technical irregularity of their situation—

Before he had gone very far, however, Jia Zhen forestalled him and said, in the most delicate way imaginable, “I have been meaning to ask you if it would be considered excessively bold to offer a gift of robes on behalf of our small and unworthy outpost, when we have only the most limited of skill and our materials are scarcely suitable.”

“Oh, how happy I should be,” Temeraire cried, deeply grateful, “and I am sure Laurence could not but be honored by the gesture—” which proved even more splendid than Temeraire had ever hoped it might be: there was still some deep blue silk held in the stores, and green, and yellow thread to sew it with which looked almost golden; and it proved that Mr. Shipley had formerly been a tailor. Given the pattern of Jia Zhen’s own formal robes and offered a small sum of golden coins, Shipley worked with great speed and energy, and even went so far as to try a little embroidery, at Temeraire’s suggestion.

To cap his satisfaction and his feelings of deepest good-will, Tharunka said, when it was nearly ready, “Temeraire, the Larrakia have considered the circumstances, and believe that according to the law, it was not
quite
proper for the Wiradjuri to take my egg from you, even though you were in their country, as I am not anything which one would hunt. As they cannot give me back now, of course, they would like to know if you would accept instead some of these opals? That bit,” she added aside, “was my own notion: I thought they might be very fine on those robes: how lovely they do look!”

“Now that,” Temeraire said, feeling as though he must be aglow, “is what I must call civilized; and I am
very
glad, Tharunka, that you should have hatched with people of such consideration; if they have not any other dragons amongst them, that is not their fault, after all; certainly no-one could say they do not deserve to have them.”

So the opals were sewn tightly onto the sleeves and the borders of the robe with fine thin thread, and Tharunka was quite right, they shone beautifully upon the dark silk; and when the whole was held up for inspection, no-one could have found any fault in it at all. “I will say it is something like,” even Caesar grudgingly admitted, when he had
nosed his head around it, and Iskierka jealously jetted some steam and said, “It is very unreasonable that Granby will not let me take any of these ships; if only I had any more of my treasure here!”

Laurence was stricken perfectly silent by their magnificence, when Jia Zhen presented them—at Temeraire’s request, in the pavilion, so that he might observe. “Pray put them on at once, Laurence,” Temeraire could not help but urge, as Laurence held their luxurious weight across both his arms and looked upon them, “for perhaps they might not fit perfectly; there is still time to alter the size, I think, before this evening.”

Temeraire need not have worried; the robes fit without any alteration, and Laurence said, “My dear, I am very sensible of the effort—the consideration which should have gone into—” and stopped.

Temeraire said delightedly, “It is nothing, Laurence; nothing but what you ought to have had always, and how happy I am! I have not been easy about it, since I knew that I had lost your fortune; but I suppose anyone would rather have these than only some money in a bank. I do not think anyone could buy anything nicer anywhere.”

“And—” Laurence said, “—and you are certain that this should be appropriate for the occasion—not, perhaps, excessive—”

“No; how could it be?” Temeraire said. “When Jia Zhen himself proposed them; and after all, Laurence, you
are
the Emperor’s son: it is only suitable that you should have the grandest appearance.”

“Oh Lord,” Granby said. “Well, Laurence, you may call me a scrub, but I will be an honest scrub: I will swallow my gold buttons and silk coats and count my blessings. But at least you don’t look a fool,” he added, trying to be comforting, perhaps. “You look as though you might say
Off with their heads!
at any moment; but not a fool.”

“Thank you,” Laurence said, rather austerely: he
felt
a fool enough, and furthermore an outrageously false one, counterfeiting the appearance of an Oriental monarch and making, as it must seem, the most absurd pretensions to a station at once far beyond his own and utterly foreign to it.

And he could say nothing: if Temeraire’s plain joy had not forbidden it, simple courtesy towards his hosts would have done as much, when so much effort and expense had been spent in the creation of the garments, and when they had been so ceremoniously presented. But
Laurence was perfectly certain he had not put them on correctly, and also unable to persuade himself he would not look ridiculous both to his fellow Britons, and more surely to his hosts, who knew better; he was reduced to only the meager hope that they might not fall down while he ate; which event if it occurred should certainly draw the attention of the entire assembly, as he realized with dismay he was to be seated at the head, beside Temeraire.

The tables had been put out in the large and sprawling courtyard of the house: it was a little crowded for the servants to maneuver in around the five dragons who were all welcome guests, but if a few of the Dutch and Portuguese sailors did look anxiously at the large and well-toothed neighbors, no one protested aloud. Rankin had in the end condescended to make one of the party, at Caesar’s earnest persuasion—“When there are so many foreign visitors,” he had said, “it must look very strange for the senior, the most official representative of His Majesty’s Government to absent himself, and perhaps convey a misleading impression of the relative authority of such representatives as will be present.”

Laurence would gladly have sacrificed all false impression of the authority that he wholly lacked. Instead he was obliged to seat himself upon a large and elevated bench, which he suspected of being the Chinese notion of a throne, while beside him Temeraire gleamed as though he had been lacquered in paint, and displayed what fraction of his jewels he had not seen fit to load onto Laurence instead. He was seated on the other side beside one of the Larrakia chiefs, the oldest of their company, who regarded Laurence’s attire with the unconcealed pleasure of a man enjoying an excellent joke.

The other aviators were a ragged and untidy crowd after their long journey and wore whichever garments they possessed that offered the least embarrassment; saving only Rankin, who had somehow kept with him untouched across an entire continent his formal evening rig. He cut the only elegant figure among them, down to his spotless stockings and the high polish upon his buckled shoes, with no decoration but his small buttonhole medal for valor and a simple, discreet stickpin of gold in his cravat.

“Only look how plain Rankin is,” Temeraire whispered, with satisfaction, and Laurence sighed.

Jia Zhen began the event with a toast delivered in Chinese, of which Laurence understood only enough to blush still more for his
own audacity, and which Temeraire unfortunately saw fit to comment upon in perfectly audible whispers, such as “—the generosity of Heaven in bestowing upon our humble outpost the presence of the most noble Celestial Lung Tien Xiang and the emperor’s son Lao-ren-tze—that is a particularly nice turn of phrase, Laurence,
the generosity of Heaven in bestowing
, do you not think?”

At least after this, the worst of Laurence’s mortification was at an end: the wine came around, the food was carried in, and a gathering of men more likely to be sticklers would have been hard-pressed to care anything for social niceties before the largesse of the hospitality. One might have anticipated some awkwardness from the motley company: the Larrakia elders, the Macassan fishermen, merchant captains from three countries and their first mates, all in their respective best; their hosts in their formal robes.