Black Powder War

THERE WAS SCARCELY an opportunity to think, to do anything but stare; the Kazilik dragons had moved to flank Temeraire, and Mustafa was already beckoning them closer to the throne. Laurence numbly stepped forward and made his formal bow with less than his customary grace. The Sultan looked at him without much expression. His face was very broad, his neck disappearing between his clothing and his square brown beard, and rather delicate-featured, with a contemplative look in his handsome dark eyes; he carried within himself an air of repose and of dignity, which seemed rather natural than assumed.



All the prepared speech had gone entirely from Laurence's head, and his rehearsed phrases; he looked up at the Sultan squarely and said in the plainest French,



"Your Majesty, you know my errand, and the agreement between our nations. All her obligations under that agreement Britain has fulfilled, and the payment has been delivered. Will you give us the eggs for which we have come?"



The Sultan received this blunt speech calmly and with no sign of anger; he spoke himself in fluent and easy



French and said mildly, "Peace be upon your country, and your King; let us pray that friendship will never fail between us." He said a little more in this vein, and spoke of deliberations among his ministers, and promised another audience, and the pursuit of many inquiries. Still laboring under the violent and unhappy shock of finding Lien in the midst of the Sultan's court and his inner councils, Laurence had difficulty in following all he said, but none at all in understanding the meaning underneath: more delay, more refusal, and no intention at all of providing satisfaction. There was indeed little effort made to conceal that meaning: the Sultan made no denials, no explanations, counterfeited no wrath or dismay. Almost he spoke with a touch of pity in his look, though not in the least a softening, and when he had finished, he dismissed them at once, without granting Laurence another opportunity to speak.



Temeraire's attention throughout had never wavered: he had not so much as glanced at the Sultan he had been so eager to see, despite all the glittering display, but rather kept his eyes fixed upon Lien; his shoulders were bunched from moment to moment, and his foreleg crept up by small degrees until it was nearly bumping against Laurence's back, waiting to snatch him away.



The Kaziliks had to nudge him to set him into motion, away along the path, and he went sideways, crab-stepping awkwardly, so as not to face away from her; she for her part never stirred, but as serene as a snake let her eyes follow them back around the curve of the palace and out of the inner courtyard again, until the wall hid her from view.



"Bezaid says she has been here three weeks," Temeraire said; his ruff was spread full and trembling, and had not lowered since the moment they had laid eyes upon Lien. He had made a great protest when Laurence had tried to go into the kiosque, refusing to let him out of his sight; even in the garden he had nudged Laurence insistently to climb upon his foreleg, and his officers had been forced to come out to hear his report.



"Long enough to have knocked us to flinders," Granby said grimly. "If she's of a like mind with Yongxing, she wouldn't have scrupled to toss poor Yarmouth into the Med, any more than he would have minded having you knocked on the head; and as for Arbuthnot's accident, it's no great trouble for a dragon to spook a horse."



"She might have done all this and more besides," Laurence said, "and made no headway against us, if the Turks had not been full willing to profit by it."



"They have fallen in with Bonaparte for certain, and make no mistake," Lieutenant Ferris agreed, smoldering, "and I wish they may have joy of it, when they are dancing to his tune; they'll soon enough be sorry for it."



"We will be sorrier, sooner," Laurence said.



The shadow overhead silenced them all, but for Temeraire's savage and rumbling growl; and the two Kaziliks sat up hissing anxiously as Lien circled down and landed gracefully in the clearing. Temeraire bared his teeth at her and snarled.



"You sound like a dog," she said to him, cool and disdainful, in fluent French, "and your manners are not much different. Will you bark at me next?"



"I do not care if you think I am rude," Temeraire said, tail lashing militantly, with much danger to the surrounding trees, walls, statuary. "If you want to fight, I am ready, and I will not let you hurt Laurence or my crew, ever."



"Why should I wish to fight you?" Lien said; she settled herself back upon her haunches, sitting erect like a cat, with her tail coiled neatly around herself, and unblinking stared at them.



Temeraire paused. "Because - because - but do you not hate me? I would hate you, if Laurence had been killed, and it were at all your fault," he said candidly.



"And like a barbarian, you would fling yourself at me and try to claw me to death, I am sure," Lien said.



Temeraire's tail faded slowly to the ground, only the very tip still twitching, and he gazed at her nonplussed; that would certainly have been his very reaction. "Well, I am not afraid of you."



"No," she said calmly. "Not yet."



Temeraire stared at her, and she added, "Would your death repay one tenth part of what you have taken from me? Do you think I would count your captain's blood equal to that of my dear companion, a great and honorable prince, as far above yours as pure jade is to the offal that lies in the streets?"



"Oh!" Temeraire said, with indignation, ruffing up even further. "He was not honorable, at all, or else he would not have tried to have Laurence killed; Laurence is worth a hundred of him or any other prince, and anyway, Laurence is a prince now himself," he added.



"Such a prince you may keep," she said, contemptuous. "For my companion, I will have a truer revenge."



"Well," Temeraire said, snorting, "if you do not want to fight, and you do not mean to hurt Laurence, I do not know why you have come; and you can go away again now, because I do not trust you in the least," he finished defiantly.



"I came," she said, "to be certain that you understood. You are very young and stupid, and you have been badly educated; I would pity you, if I had any pity left.



"You have overthrown the whole of my life, torn me from family and friends and home; you have ruined all my lord's hopes for China, and I must live knowing that all for which he fought and labored was for naught. His spirit will live unquiet, and his grave go untended.



"No, I will not kill you, or your captain, who binds you to his country." She shook out her ruff and leaning forward said softly, "I will see you bereft of all that you have, of home and happiness and beautiful things. I will see your nation cast down and your allies drawn away. I will see you as alone and friendless and wretched as am I; and then you may live as long as you like, in some dark and lonely corner of the earth, and I will call myself content."



Temeraire was wide-eyed and transfixed by the low monotone finality of her words, his own ruff wilting slowly down to lie flat against his neck, and by the time she had finished he was huddled small away from her, clutching Laurence still closer with both his forelegs shielding him like a cage.



She half-unfurled her wings, gathering herself together. "I am leaving now for France, and the service of this barbarian emperor," she said. "It is certain that the miseries of my exile will be many, but I will bear them better now, having spoken to you. We will not meet again perhaps for a long while; I hope you will remember me, and know what joys you have are numbered."



She leapt aloft, and with three quick wing-strokes was away and swiftly diminishing.



"For God's sake," Laurence said strongly, when they had stood all together utterly silent and dismayed awhile, in her wake, "we are not children, to be frightened witless by threats; and that she meant us all the ill in the world we already knew."



"Yes, but I did not know quite so well," Temeraire said, in a small voice, and did not seem inclined to let Laurence move away.



"My dear, pray do not let her distress you," Laurence said, laying his hand on Temeraire's soft muzzle. "You would only be giving her what she desires, your unhappiness, and cheap at the cost of a few words. They are hollow: even she, powerful as she is, alone cannot make so great a difference to the war; and Napoleon would exert himself to the fullest towards our destruction regardless of her assistance."



"But she has already done us a great deal of harm, herself," Temeraire said unhappily. "Now they will not let us have the eggs that we need so badly, and have done so much for."



"Laurence," Granby said abruptly, "by God, these villains have bloody well stolen half-a-million pounds, and like as not used the funds to build themselves those fortifications so they could thumb their noses at the Navy. We cannot let it stand; we must do something. Temeraire could bring half this palace down on their heads with one proper roar - "



"We will not murder and ruin to revenge ourselves, as she does; such a satisfaction we ought and do disdain," Laurence said. "No," he continued, raising a hand when Granby would have protested. "Do you go and send the men to their supper, and then to take some rest, as much sleep as they can manage, while the light lasts.



"We leave tonight," he continued, very cold and calm, "and we take the eggs with us."



"Sherazde says her egg is being kept inside the harem," Temeraire said, after some inquiry, "near the baths, where it is warm."



"Temeraire, they will not give us away?" Laurence asked with anxiety, looking at the Kaziliks.



"I have not told them why I am asking," Temeraire admitted, with a guilty look. "It does not feel quite proper; but after all," he added, "we will take good care of the eggs, so they will not mind; and the people have no right to object, since they took the gold. But I cannot ask them very much more, or they will wonder why I want to know."



"We will have the devil of a time stumbling about looking for them," Granby said. "I suppose the place must be littered with guards, and if the women see us they will surely send up a howl; this mission will be no joke."



"I think we must only a few of us go," Laurence said, low. "I will take a few volunteers - "



"Oh, the devil you will!" Granby exclaimed furiously. "No, this time I damned well put my foot down, Laurence. Send you off to go scrambling about in that warren with no notion where you are going, and nothing more likely than running into a dozen guards round every corner; I should like to see myself do it. I am not going back to England to tell them I sat about twiddling my thumbs whilst you got yourself cut to pieces. Temeraire, you are not to let him go, do you hear me? He is sure to be killed; I give you my word."



"If the party are sure to be killed, I am not going to let anyone go!" Temeraire said, in high alarm, and sat up sharp, quite prepared to physically hold anyone back who made an attempt to leave.



"Temeraire, this is plain exaggeration," Laurence said. "Mr. Granby, you overstate the case, and you overstep your bounds."



"Well, I don't," Granby said defiantly. "I have bit my tongue a dozen times over, because I know it is wretched hard to sit about watching and you haven't been trained up to it, but you are a captain, and you must be more careful of your neck. It isn't only your own but the Corps' affair if you snuff it, and mine too."



"If I may," Tharkay said quietly, interrupting when Laurence would have remonstrated further with Granby, "I will go; alone I am reasonably sure I can find a way to the eggs, without rousing any alarm, and then I can return and guide the rest of the party there."



"Tharkay," Laurence said, "this is no service you owe us; I would not order even a man under oath of arms to undertake it, without he were willing."



"But I am willing," Tharkay gave his faint half-smile, "and more likely to come back whole from it than anyone else here."



"At the cost of running thrice the risk, going and coming back and going again," Laurence said, "with a fresh chance of running into the guards every time through."



"So it is very dangerous, then," Temeraire said, overhearing to too much purpose, and pricking up his ruff further. "You are not to go, at all, Granby is quite right; and neither is anyone else."



"Oh, Hell," Laurence said, under his breath.



"It seems there is very little alternative to my going," Tharkay said.



"Not you either!" Temeraire contradicted, to Tharkay's startlement, and settled down as mulish as a dragon could look; and Granby had folded his arms and wore an expression very similar. Laurence had ordinarily very little inclination to profanity, but he was sorely tempted on this occasion. An appeal to Temeraire's reason might sway him to allow a party to make the attempt, if he could be persuaded to accept the risk as necessary for the gain, like a battle; but he would surely balk at seeing Laurence go, and Laurence had not the least intention of sending men on so deadly an enterprise if he were not going himself, Corps rules be damned.



They were left at a standstill, and then Keynes came out into the gardens. "For the sake of secrecy, it is to be hoped neither of those dragons understands English," he said. "If you have all done shouting like fishwives, Dunne begs the favor of a word, Captain; he and Hackley saw the baths, during their excursion."



"Yes, sir," Dunne said; he was sitting up on his makeshift cot, pale with fever-hot cheeks, in only breeches and a shirt hanging loose over his lacerated skin; Hackley, slighter than he, had taken the flogging worse and was still prostrated. "At least, I am almost sure; they all had the ends of their hair wet, coming out of the place, and the fair ones - the fair ones looked pink with heat." He dropped his eyes ashamedly, not looking Laurence in the face, and finished hurriedly, "And there were a dozen chimneys out of the building, sir, all of them smoking away, though it was midday and hot."



Laurence nodded. "Do you remember the way, and are you strong enough to go?"



"I do well enough, sir," Dunne said.



"He would do well enough to stay lying down," Keynes said caustically.



Laurence hesitated. "Can you draw us a map?" he asked Dunne.



"Sir," Dunne said, swallowing, "sir, please let me come. Truly I don't think I can, without seeing the place around me; we got turned about a great deal."



Despite this new advantage, Temeraire took a great deal more convincing; at last Laurence was forced to yield to Granby's demand, and let him come along, leaving young Lieutenant Ferris in command of the rest of the crew. "There; you may be easy, Temeraire," Granby said with satisfaction, putting the signal-flares in his own belt. "If there's the least danger, I will fire off a flare, and you will come and take Laurence up, eggs or no; I will see to it he is where you can reach him."



Laurence felt a strong sense of indignation; this was all a piece of considerable insubordination, but as it was visibly approved not only by Temeraire but by the entire crew, he had no recourse; and he was privately conscious the Admiralty would be wholly of like mind, except perhaps to censure him even more strongly for going along at all.



Without very good grace he turned to his acting second lieutenant. "Mr. Ferris," he said, "keep all the men aboard and ready. Temeraire, if you have not seen our signal, and a noise begins in the palace, or there is any sign of dragons overhead, go up at once; in the dark you can keep well out of sight for a long time."



"I will; and you needn't think I will go away if I do not see your signal for a long time, so do not try and tell me to do just that," Temeraire said, with a martial light in his eyes.



Thankfully, the Kaziliks went away before nightfall, to be replaced again by lesser guards, another pair of the middle-weight dragons, who, a little shy of Temeraire, stayed back in the grove and did not trouble him; and the moon was little more than a narrow sliver, enough to give them a little light to place their feet by.



"You will remember I rely upon you to keep all the crew safe," Laurence said to Temeraire softly. "Pray have a care for them, if anything should go awry; do promise me."



"I will," Temeraire answered, "but I will not fly away and leave you behind, so you are to promise me that you will be careful, and send for me if there is any trouble; I do not like to stay here, at all, and be left behind," he finished miserably.



"I do not at all like to leave you, either, my dear," Laurence said, and stroked the soft muzzle, for Temeraire's comfort and his own. "We will try not to be long."



Temeraire made a low unhappy noise, and then he sat up on his haunches, his wings half-spread to conceal his movements from the guardian dragons, and one after another put the appointed party carefully upon the roof: Laurence and Granby; Tharkay; Dunne; Martin; Fellowes, the harness-master, all his spare leather distributed among them in sacks, to rig out the eggs for carrying; and for their lookout Digby, just made midshipman. With Salyer, Dunne, and Hackley all knocked-down, Laurence had been short of junior officers, and the boy had earned it with his steady work, though young for the promotion; it was pleasanter by far to raise him up than the earlier demotions had been, and they began the desperate adventure with a round of spirits and a quiet toast, to the new midshipman, to the success of their enterprise, and lastly to the King.



The slanting roof was uncertain and difficult footing, but they had to keep low in any case, and steadying themselves with their hands they managed to creep over to where the roof met the harem wall, easily wide enough to stand upon; from the height they could look over the whole ferociously labyrinthine complex: minarets and high towers, galleries and domes, courtyards and cloisters, all standing one atop the other with scarcely any break between them, as though the whole had been almost one single edifice, the work of an architect run mad; the roofs white and grey, plentifully broken up with skylights and attic windows, but all of these which they could make out were barred.



A large marble swimming-pool abutted the wall on the far side, very far down, a narrow walkway of grey slate running all around the border and to a pair of open arches: a way in. They dropped a line and Tharkay slipped down first, all of them tense and watching the lit windows for any passing shadow, the dark for any sudden illumination, any sign they had been seen. No cry was raised; they slung Dunne into a loop and Fellowes and Granby let him down together, the rope braced against their hips and hissing softly through their gloved hands; all the rest of them scrambled down after, one at a time.



They crept single-file along the walkway; the light of many windows shone in the water, rippling yellow, and lanterns were shining on the raised terrace overlooking the pool. They reached the archway; they were inside, and oil lamps flickering from niches upon the floor stretched away along a narrow passageway, low-ceilinged and ill-lit by guttering candles, broken up with many doors and stairways. There was a whispering draught like a distant conversation coming into their faces.



They went silently and very fast, as fast as they dared; Tharkay in the lead and Dunne whispering to him about the way, as best he could recall in the darkness. They passed by many small rooms, some still touched with a drifting fragrance, sweet and more fragile than roses, which could only be caught now and again by an accidental breath, and faded into the stronger lingering smell of incense and spice if one tried to draw it in. Throughout, flung upon divans and scattered on the floor, lay the beguilements of the harem's idle hours, writing-boxes and books and musical instruments, ornaments for the hair, scarves cast aside, the paints and brushes of beauty. Ducking his head through one doorway, Digby gave a startled gasp, and coming to his side they at first reached for their swords and pistols, seeing all around them suddenly a crowd of pale distorted faces: they were looking into a graveyard of old mirrors, cracked and gap-toothed and leaning back against the walls, still in their golden frames.



Now and again Tharkay would halt them, and wave them all into one room or another, to crouch in silence, waiting, until in the distance footfalls died away again; once a few women went by laughing in the hallway, clear high voices ringing with hilarity. Laurence by degrees grew conscious of a heaviness, a moisture in the air, an increase of warmth, and Tharkay looking around caught his eye and nodded, beckoning.



Laurence crept to his side: through a latticework screen they were looking upon a high, well-lit marble hallway. "Yes, that's where we saw them coming out," Dunne whispered, pointing at a tall narrow archway; the floor around it was shining and damp.



Tharkay touched a finger to his lips and motioned them back into the darkness; he crept away, vanishing for minutes that seemed endless, then coming back whispered, "I have found the way down; but there are guards."



Four of the black eunuchs stood in their uniforms at the base of the stairs, idle and drowsy with the late hour, speaking to one another and paying no real attention; but there was no easy way to come towards them without being seen and raising the alarm. Laurence opened his cartridge box and ripped half-a-dozen of the pistol-balls out of their paper twists, scattering the powder upon the ground; they hid to either side of the head of the stairs, and he let the balls go rolling down the stairs, clattering and ringing bright against the smooth marble.



More puzzled than alarmed, the guards came up to investigate and bent low over the black powder; Granby sprang forward, even as Laurence began to give the word, and clubbed one with his pistol-butt; Tharkay another, with a single swift blow to the temple with the pommel of his knife, and lowered him easily to the ground. The third, Laurence caught around the throat with his arm, choking him to silence and then to stillness, but the last, a big man, barrel-chested and thick-necked, managed a strangled shout past Digby's grasp before Martin struck him down.



They stood all panting, listening, but no reply came, no sound of roused vigilance. They bundled the guards into the dark corner where they themselves had been concealed, and tied and gagged them with their neckcloths.



"We must hurry now," Laurence said, and they ran down the stairs and the empty vaulted hallway, their boots loud suddenly on the flagstones. The baths were empty, a great room of marble and stone, vaulted far above with delicate pointed arches of warm yellowed stone, great stone basins and golden spigots set in the wall, with dark wooden screens and little dressing alcoves in the many corners, and platforms of stone in the middle of the room, all of it slick with steam and water-beaded. Archways led out of the room all around, and puffs of steam were issuing into the room from vents set high in the walls; a single narrow stairway built of stone led them a winding way up to an iron door, hot to the touch.



They gathered themselves around and thrust it open, Granby and Tharkay jumping through at once, into a chamber almost scorching-hot and lit with a hellish orange-red glow. A squat many-legged furnace nearly filled the room together with a great boiling-cauldron of shining copper, pipes snaking away and vanishing into the walls, a heap of wood lying beside it to feed the roaring maw, and next to it a brazier of freshly laid coals was just beginning to catch and blaze, little open flames licking up to heat a hanging bowl of stones. Two black slaves naked to the waist stood staring; one held a long-handled ladle full of water, which he had been pouring over the hot stones, and the other an iron poker with which he was stirring the coals.



Granby caught the first and with Martin's help wrestled him to the ground, muffling his sounds; but the second whipped his red-hot poker around and jabbed at Tharkay frantically, opening his mouth to yell; Tharkay gave a queer choked grunt and caught the man's arm, pushing away the poker, and Laurence sprang to clap his hand over the shout; Digby clubbed him.



"Are you all right?" Laurence asked sharply; Tharkay had smothered the little flame which had caught in his trousers with the tails of his coat, but he was putting no weight on his right leg, and leaning with drawn face against the wall; there was a smell of blackened and roasting flesh.



Tharkay said nothing, jaw locked shut, but waved off concern, pointing; a small barred door of ironwork lattice stood behind the furnace, red rust weeping down the bars, and within the slightly cooler chamber behind, in great nests of silken cloth, lay a dozen dragon eggs. The gate was hot to the touch, but Fellowes took out a few wide pieces of leather, and so shielding their hands, Laurence and Granby lifted aside the bar and swung open the door.



Granby ducked inside and went to the eggs, lifting aside the silk and touching the shells with loving care. "Oh, here's our beauty," he said reverently, uncovering one of a dusty reddish hue, speckled lightly with green. "That's our Kazilik all right; and eight weeks at most by the feel of it, we are none too soon." He covered it up again, and with great care he and Laurence lifted it off its perch, silken swaddling and all, and carried it out into the furnace-room where Fellowes and Digby began to lash it into the leather straps.



"Only look at them," Granby said, turning back to survey the rest of the eggs, stroking their shells lightly with the tips of his fingers. "What the Corps would give for the lot. But these are the ones we were promised; an Alaman, that's one of their light-combat fellows, this one," he indicated the smallest of the eggs, a pale lemon-yellow half the size of a man's chest, "and the Akhal-Teke is a middle-weight," a cream-colored egg spotted with red and orange, nearly twice the size.



They all worked now to get the straps on, putting them over the silk coverings, buckling them tight with hands slipping on the leather; they were all of them pouring sweat, great dark stains coming through the backs of their coats. They had closed the door again to work in concealment, and despite the narrow windows, the room was nearly an oven to bake them in alive.



Abruptly voices came in through the vents: they halted with their hands still on the straps, and then a louder voice came through more clearly, a call in a woman's voice. "More steam," Tharkay translated, whispering, and Martin snatched up the ladle and poured some water from the standing basin up and onto the stones; but the clouds of steam did not all go through the vents, and made the room almost impossible to see.



"We must make a dash for it: down the stairs and out the nearest archway, and make for any open air you see," Laurence said quietly, looking to be sure they had all heard.



"I'm no hand in a fight; I'll take the Kazilik," Fellowes said, leaving the rest of his leather in a heap on the floor. "Strap it to my back; and Mr. Dunne can help steady me."



"Very good," Laurence said, and told Martin and Digby off to the Akhal-Teke and the smaller Alaman; he and Granby drew their swords, and Tharkay, who had bound up his leg with some of the leather scraps, took out his knife: there would be no relying on their guns, after they had been soaking a quarter-of-an-hour together in the thick and humid atmosphere.



"Keep all together," he said, and threw all the rest of the water in one great heave onto the hot stones and the coals themselves, and kicked open the door.



The great white billows of hissing steam carried them down the stairs and out into the baths; they were halfway to the archway before the air cleared enough to make anything out at all. Then the trailing steam blew away and Laurence found himself staring at an exquisitely beautiful woman, perfectly naked and holding an ewer full of water; her complexion was the exact color of milky tea, and her hair in long shining-wet ebony ropes was her only cover; she stared at him with extraordinarily large sea-green eyes, rimmed in brown, at first in confusion; and then she gave a piercing shriek, rousing all the other women too: more than a dozen of them, equally beautiful though of wholly different style, and all of their voices ringing out in wild and musical alarm.



"Oh, Christ," Laurence said; deeply ashamed, he caught her by the shoulders, firmly set her out of the way, and dashed on to the archway, his men following after him. More of the guards were running into the room from the far sides, and two came nearly running directly into Laurence's and Granby's faces.



They were taken aback too much to swing at once, and Laurence was able to knock the sword out of his opposite's hand and kick it away skittering over the floor. Together Laurence and Granby shoved them backwards and out into the hall, all of them half-slipping on the slick floors, and they burst out into the hallway and ran for the stairs, the two guards, knocked down, calling to their fellows.



Laurence and Granby ducked under Tharkay's arms and helped him go limping up the stairs; the others were burdened with the eggs; yet all of them still went at great speed, the pursuit boiling up furiously behind them, and the women's screams attracting still more attention. Running footsteps approaching from ahead warned them their original route had been cut off; instead Tharkay said sharply, "Go eastward, that way," and they turned down another hallway to flee.



A draught of cold air, desperately welcome, came into their faces as they ran; and they emerged from a small marble cloister into an open-air quadrangle, all the windows blazing around them; Granby at once dropped to one knee and fired up his signal-flares: one and the next refused to go, too wet to fire, and cursing he flung the inert cylinders to the ground, but the third, which had been tucked more deeply into his shirt, at last went off, and the blue glittering trail went smoking up into the black sky.



Then they had to put down the eggs and turn and fight: the first guards were upon them, shouting, more spilling out of the building. One small grace, that for fear of damaging the eggs the Turkish guards had not resorted to their own guns, and were cautious in pressing too closely, trusting to their weight of numbers to overcome the invaders with only a little patience. Laurence struggled to hold off one of the guards, deflecting one blow and then another to either side; he was counting the moments in wingbeats, but he had scarcely reached half his expected total before Temeraire, roaring, swept down over the court, the great wind of his passage nearly flattening them all.



The guards scrambled back, crying out. There was not room for Temeraire to land without crushing the buildings, perhaps bringing them down, but Celestials could hover; his wings beating mightily, Temeraire kept almost directly above them. The thunder of his wings sent loosened bits of brick and stone crumbling down into the courtyard, and the many windows around the court were shattering in sharp explosive bursts, littering the ground with razor shards.



Cables were being flung down to them by the crew already aboard. They frantically tied on the eggs and sent them up, to be stowed away in the belly-rigging; Fellowes did not even take off his precious burden, but let himself be bundled aloft still lashed to the egg and thrust into the belly-netting, many hands reaching to latch his carabiners onto the harness.



"Hurry, hurry," Temeraire called loudly; the alarm was truly given now, horns blowing wildly in the distance, more flares firing up into the sky, and then from the gardens to the north rose a terrible roaring, and a great jet of flame scorched glowing red upon the sky: the Kaziliks were rising into the air, spiraling up through their own smoke and flame. Laurence heaved Dunne up into the reaching hands of the bellmen and jumped for the rigging himself.



"Temeraire, we are aboard, go!" he shouted, dangling by his hands; the bellmen were helping them all get latched on, and Therrows had Laurence's carabiners in hand. Below, the guards were returning with rifles in hand, caution giving way with the eggs so nearly lost to them; they were forming into a company, their rifles aimed together to a single point, the only likely way to injure a dragon with musket-fire.



Temeraire gathered himself, wings sweeping forward, and with a great thrust he was moving straight up and up, heaving himself aloft and higher. Digby cried out, "The egg, 'ware the egg," and lunged for it: the little lemon-yellow Alaman egg, its silk coverings caught on some protrusion on the ground and unfurling in a long glorious red ribbon from underneath the leather straps, leaving the soft, moisture-slick egg too loose in its harness.



Digby's grasping fingers caught on the shell; but still it slid free, easing out between the leather straps and the belly-netting, and he let go the harness and caught it with his other hand. His carabiners dangling loose were not yet latched on. "Digby!" Martin cried, reaching for him; but Temeraire's leap could not be arrested: they were already above the roof and rising still with the force of his great wing-stroke, and Digby fell away startled and open-mouthed, still holding the egg against his breast.



Together the boy and the egg fell tumbling through the air and smashed together upon the courtyard stones, amidst the shouting guards. Digby's arms lay flung wide against the white marble, the curled and half-formed serpentine body of the dragonet in the burst ruins of the shell, and the lantern-light shone grisly upon their small broken bodies lying in a slick of blood and egg-slime, as Temeraire lifted still higher and away.