Empire of Ivory

CAPTAIN," KEYNES SAID, "I am sorry; any gormless imbecile can bandage up a bullet-wound, and a gormless imbecile you are very likely to be assigned in my place. But I cannot stay with the healthiest dragon in Britain when the quarantine-coverts are full of the sick."



"I perfectly understand, Mr. Keynes, and you need say nothing more," Laurence said. "Will you not fly with us as far as Dover?"



"No; Victoriatus will not last the week, and I will wait and attend the dissection with Dr. Harrow," Keynes said, with a brutal sort of practicality that made Laurence flinch. "I have hopes we may learn something of the characteristics of the disease. Some of the couriers are still flying; one will carry me onwards."



"Well," Laurence said, and shook the surgeon's hand. "I hope we shall see you with us again soon."



"I hope you will not," Keynes said, in his usual acerbic manner. "If you do, I will otherwise be lacking for patients, which from the course of this disease will mean they are all dead."



Laurence could hardly say his spirits were lowered; they had already been reduced so far as to make little difference out of the loss. But he was sorry. Dragon-surgeons were not by and large near so incompetent as the naval breed, and despite Keynes's words Laurence did not fear his eventual successor, but to lose a good man, his courage and sense proven and his eccentricities known, was never pleasant; and Temeraire would not like it.



"He is not hurt?" Temeraire pressed. "He is not sick?"



"No, Temeraire; but he is needed elsewhere," Laurence said. "He is a senior surgeon; I am sure you would not deny his attentions to those of your comrades who are suffering from this illness."



"Well, if Maximus or Lily should need him," Temeraire said crabbily, and drew furrows in the ground. "Shall I see them again soon? I am sure they cannot be so very ill. Maximus is the biggest dragon I have ever seen, even though we have been to China; he is sure to recover quickly."



"No, my dear," Laurence said uneasily, and broke the worst of the news - "The sick have none of them recovered, and you must take the very greatest care not to go anywhere near the quarantine-grounds."



"But I do not understand," Temeraire said. "If they do not recover, then - " He paused.



Laurence only looked away. Temeraire had good excuse for not understanding at once. Dragons were hardy creatures, and many breeds might live a century and more; he might have justly expected to know Maximus and Lily for longer than a man's lifetime, if the war had not taken them from him.



At last, sounding almost bewildered, Temeraire said, "But I have so much to tell them - I came for them. So they might learn that dragons may read and write, and have property, and do things other than fight."



"I will write a letter for you, which we can send to them with your greetings, and they will be happier to know you well and safe from contagion than for your company," Laurence said. Temeraire did not answer; he was very still, and his head bowed deeply to his chest. "We will be near-by," Laurence went on, after a moment, "and you may write to them every day, if you wish; when we have finished our work."



"Patrolling, I suppose," Temeraire said, with a very unusual note of bitterness, "and more stupid formation-work; while they are all sick, and we can do nothing."



Laurence looked down, into his lap, where their new orders lay amid the oilcloth packet of all his papers, and had no comfort to offer: brusque instructions for their immediate removal to Dover, where Temeraire's expectations were likely to be answered in every particular.



He was not encouraged, on reporting to the headquarters at Dover directly they had landed, by being left to cool his heels in the hall outside the new admiral's office for thirty minutes, listening to voices by no means indistinct despite the heavy oaken door. He recognized Jane Roland, shouting; the voices that answered her were unfamiliar; and Laurence rose to his feet abruptly, straightening as the door was flung open. A tall man in a naval coat came rushing out with clothing and expression both disordered, his lower cheeks mottled to a moderate glow under his sideburns; he did not pause, but threw Laurence a furious glare before he left.



"Come in, Laurence; come in," Jane called, and he went in; she was standing with the admiral, an older man dressed rather astonishingly in a black frock coat and knee-breeches with buckled shoes.



"You have not met Dr. Wapping, I think," Jane said. "Sir, this is Captain Laurence, of Temeraire."



"Sir," Laurence said, and made his leg deep to cover his confusion and dismay. He supposed that if all the dragons were in quarantine, to put the covert in the charge of a physician was the sort of thing which might make sense to landsmen, as with the notion advanced to him once, by a family friend seeking his influence on behalf of a less-fortunate relation, to advance a surgeon - not even a naval surgeon - to the command of a hospital ship.



"Captain, I am honored to make your acquaintance," Dr. Wapping said. "Admiral, I will take my leave; I beg your pardon for having been the cause of so unpleasant a scene."



"Nonsense; those rascals at the Victualing Board are a pack of unhanged scoundrels, and I am happy to put them in their place; good day to you. Would you credit, Laurence," Jane said, as Wapping closed the door behind himself, "that those wretches are not content that the poor creatures eat scarcely enough to feed a bird anymore, but they must send us diseased stock and scrawny?



"But this is a way to welcome you home." She caught him by the shoulders and kissed him soundly on both cheeks. "You are a damned sight; whatever has happened to your coat? Will you have a glass of wine?" She poured for them both without waiting his answer; he took it in a sort of appalled blankness. "I have all your letters, so I have a tolerable notion what you have been doing, and you must forgive me my silence, Laurence; I found it easier to write nothing than to leave out the only matter of any importance."



"No; that is, yes, of course," he said, and sat down with her at the fire. Her coat was thrown over the arm of her chair; now that he looked, he saw the admiral's fourth bar on the shoulders, and the front more magnificently frogged with braid. Her face, too, was altered but not for the better; she had lost a stone of weight at least, he thought, and her dark hair, cropped short, was shot with grey.



"Well, I am sorry to be such a ruin," she said ruefully, and laughed away his apologies. "No, we are all of us decaying, Laurence; there is no denying it. You have seen poor Lenton, I suppose. He held up like a hero for three weeks after she died, but then we found him on the floor of his bedroom in an apoplexy; for a week he could not speak without slurring. He came along a good ways afterwards, but still he has been a shade of himself."



"I am sorry for it," Laurence said, "though I drink to your promotion," and by herculean effort he managed it without a stutter.



"I thank you, dear fellow," she said. "I would be et up with pride, I suppose, if matters were otherwise, and if it were not one annoyance after another. We glide along tolerably well when left to our own devices, but I must deal with these idiotish creatures from the admiralty. They are told, before they come, and told again, and still they will simper at me, and coo, as if I had not been a-dragonback before they were out of dresses, and then they stare if I dress them down for behaving like kiss-my-hand squires."



"I suppose they find it a difficult adjustment," Laurence said, with private sympathy. "I wonder the Admiralty should have - " and belatedly he paused, feeling he was treading on obscure and dangerous ground. One could not very well quarrel with pursuing whatever means necessary to reconcile Longwings, perhaps Britain's most deadly breed, to service, and as the beasts would accept none but female handlers, some must be offered them; Laurence was sorry for the necessity that would thrust a gently born woman out of her rightful society and into harm's way, but at least they were raised up to it. And where necessary, they had perforce to act as formation-leaders, transmitting the maneuvers to their wings; but this was a far cry from flag rank, not to say commanding the largest covert in Britain, and perhaps the most critical.



"They certainly did not like to give it to me, but they had precious little choice," Jane said. "Portland would not come from Gibraltar; Laetificat is not up to the sea-voyage anymore. So it was me or Sanderson, and he is making a cake of himself over the business; goes off into corners and weeps like a woman, as though that would help anything: a veteran of nine fleet actions, if you would credit it." Then she ran her hand through her disordered crop and sighed. "Never mind, you are not to listen to me, Laurence; I am impatient, and his Animosia does poorly."



"And Excidium?" Laurence ventured.



"Excidium is a tough old bird, and he knows how to husband his strength: has the sense to eat, even though he has no appetite. He will muddle along a good while yet, and you know, he has close on a century of service; many his age have already shot themselves of the whole business and retired to the breeding grounds." She smiled; it was not whole-hearted. "There; I have been brave. Let us to pleasanter things: you have brought me twenty dragons, and by God do I have a use for them. Let us go and see them."



"She is a handful and a half," Granby admitted lowly, as they considered the coiled serpentine length of Iskierka's body, faint threads of steam issuing from the many needle-like spikes upon her body, "and I haven't ridden herd on her, sir, I am sorry."



Iskierka had already established herself to her own satisfaction, if no one else's, by clawing out a deep pit in the clearing next to Temeraire's where she had been housed, then filling it with ash: this acquired from some two dozen young trees which she had unceremoniously uprooted and burnt up inside her pit. She had then added to the powdery grey mixture a collection of boulders, which she fired to a moderate glow before going to sleep, comfortably, in her heated nest. The bonfire and its lingering smolder were visible for some distance, even to the farmhouses nearest the covert, and a few hours past her arrival had already produced several complaints and a great deal of alarm.



"Oh, you have done enough keeping her harnessed out in the countryside, without a head of cattle to your name," Jane said, giving the drowsing Iskierka's side a pat. "They may bleat to me all they like, for a fire-breather, and you may be sure the Navy will cheer your name when they hear we have our own at last. Well done; well done indeed, and I am happy to confirm you in your rank, Captain Granby. Should you like to do the honors, Laurence?"



Most of Laurence's crew had already been employed in Iskierka's clearing, in beating out the stray embers which flew out of her pit and threatened to ignite all the covert if left unchecked. Ash-dusty and tired as they all were, they had none of them gone away, lingering consciously without the need of any announcement, and now lined up on a muttered word from young Lieutenant Ferris to watch Laurence pin the second pair of gold bars upon Granby's shoulders.



"Gentlemen," Jane said, when Laurence had done, and they gave a cheek-flushed Granby three huzzahs, whole-hearted if a little subdued, and Ferris and Riggs stepped over to shake him by the hand.



"We will see about assigning you a crew, though it is early days yet with her," Jane said, after the ceremony had dispersed, and they proceeded on to make her acquainted with the ferals. "I have no shortage of men now, more's the pity. Feed her twice daily, see if we cannot make up for any growth she may have been shorted, and whenever she is awake I will start you on Longwing maneuvers. I don't know if she can scorch herself, as they can with their own acid, but we needn't find out by trial."



Granby nodded; he seemed not the least nonplussed at answering to her. Neither did Tharkay, who had been persuaded to stay on at least a little longer, as one of the few of them with any influence upon the ferals at all. He rather looked mostly amused, in his secretive way, once past the inquiring glance which he had first cast at Laurence: as Jane had insisted upon being taken to the newcome dragons at once, there had been no chance for Laurence to give Tharkay a private caution in advance of their meeting. He did not reveal any surprise, however, but only made her a polite bow, and performed the introductions quite calmly.



Arkady and his band had made very little less confusion of their own clearings than Iskierka, preferring to knock down all the trees between and cluster together in a great heap. The chill of the December air did not trouble them, used as they were to the vastly colder regions of the Pamirs, but they spoke disapprovingly of the dampness, and on understanding that here before them was the senior officer of the covert, at once demanded from her an accounting of the promised cows, one apiece daily, by which they had been lured into service.



"They make the position that if they do not happen to eat the cows upon a given day, still they are owed the cattle, which they may call in at a future time," Tharkay explained, provoking Jane's deep laugh.



"Tell them they shall have as much as they like to eat on any occasion, and if they are too suspicious for that to satisfy them, we shall make them a tally: they may each of them take one of these logs they have knocked about over to the feeding pens, and mark it when they take a cow," Jane said, more merry than offended at being met with such negotiations. "Pray ask will they agree to a rate of exchange, two hogs for a cow, or two sheep, should we bring in some variety?"



The ferals put their heads together and muttered and hissed and whistled amongst themselves, in a cacophony made private only by the obscurity of their language, and finally Arkady turned back and professed himself willing to settle on the trade agreement, except that he insisted goats should be three to a cow, they having some contempt for that animal, more easily obtained in their former homeland and likely there to be scrawny.



Jane bowed to him to seal the arrangement, and he bobbed his head back, his expression deeply satisfied, and 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 PȺcheur-Raye 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 PȺcheur 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 PȺcheur; 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 speaking-trumpet. "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 PȺcheur 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 PȺcheur 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, darting in at the French dragons and away, setting up a raucous caterwauling as they went, without very much actual fighting to be seen. It would have done nicely to frighten away a rival gang in the wild, Laurence supposed, particularly one so outnumbered, but he did not think the French were to be so easily diverted; indeed as he watched, the five enemy dragons, all of them only little Pou-de-Ciels, drew into close formation and promptly bowled through the cloud of ferals.



The ferals, still putting on a show of bravado, scattered too late to evade the rifle-fire, and now some of their shrill cries were for real pain. Temeraire was beating up furiously, his sides belling out like sails as he heaved for the breath to get himself so high aloft, but he could not easily gain their height, and would be at a disadvantage himself against the smaller French when he had. "Give them a gun, quickly, and show the signal for descent," Laurence shouted to Turner, without much hope; but the ferals came plummeting down in a rush when Turner put out the flags, none too reluctant to put themselves around Temeraire.



Arkady was keeping up a low, indignant clamoring under his breath, nudging anxiously at his second Wringe, the worst-hit, her dark grey hide marred with streaks of darker blood. She had taken several balls to the flesh and one unlucky hit to the right wing, which had struck her on the bias and scraped a long, ugly furrow across the tender webbing and two spines; she was listing in mid-air awkwardly as she tried to favor it.



"Send her below to shore," Laurence said, scarcely needing the speaking-trumpet with the dragons crowded so close that they might have been talking in a clearing, and not the open sky. "And pray tell them again, they must keep well-clear of the guns; I am sorry they have had so hot a lesson. Let us keep together and - " but this came too late, as the French were coming down in arrow-head formation, and the ferals followed too closely on his first instruction and spread themselves out across the sky.



The French also at once separated; even together they were not a match for Temeraire, whom they had surely recognized, and by way of protection engaged themselves closely with the ferals. It must have been an odd experience for them; Pou-de-Ciels were generally the lightest of the French combat breeds, and now they were finding themselves the relative heavy-weights in battle against the ferals, who even where their wingspan and length matched were all of them lean and concave-bellied creatures, a sharp contrast against the deep-chested muscle of their opponents.



The ferals were now more wary, but also more savage, hot with anger at the injury to their fellow and their own smaller stinging wounds. They used their darting lunges to better effect, learning quickly how to feint in and provoke the rifle volleys, then come in again for a real attack. The smallest of them, Gherni and motley-colored Lester, were attacking one Pou-de-Ciel together, with the more wily Hertaz pouncing in every now and again, claws blackened with blood; the others were engaged singly, and more than holding their own, but Laurence quickly perceived the danger, even as Temeraire called, "Arkady! Bnezh's'li taqom - " and broke off to say, "Laurence, they are not listening."



"Yes, they will be in the soup in a moment," Laurence agreed; the French dragons, though they seemed on the face of it to be fighting as independently as the ferals, were maneuvering skillfully to put their backs to one another; indeed they were only allowing the ferals to herd them into formation, which should allow them to make another devastating pass. "Can you break them apart, when they have come together?"



"I do not see how I will be able to do it, without hurting our friends; they are so close to one another, and some of them are so little," Temeraire said anxiously, tail lashing as he hovered.



"Sir," Ferris said, and Laurence looked at him. "I beg your pardon, sir, but we are always told, as a rule, to take a bruising before a ball; it don't hurt them long, even if they are knocked properly silly, and we are close enough to give any of them a lift to land, if it should go so badly."



"Very good; thank you, Mr. Ferris," Laurence said, putting strong approval in it; he was still very glad to see Granby matched off with Iskierka, even more so when dragons would now be in such short supply, but he felt the loss keenly, as exposing the weaknesses in his own abbreviated training as an aviator. Ferris had risen to his occasions with near-heroism, but he had been but a third lieutenant on their departure from England, scarcely a year ago, and at nineteen years of age could not be expected to put himself forward to his captain with the assurance of an experienced officer.



Temeraire put his head down and puffed up his chest with a deep breath, then flung himself down amongst the shrinking knot of dragons, and barreled through with much the effect of a cat descending upon an unsuspecting flock of pigeons. Friend and foe alike went tumbling wildly; the ferals flung into higher excitement. They flew around with much disorderly shrilling for a few moments, and as they did, the French righted themselves: the formation leader waved a signal-flag, and the Pou-de-Ciels wheeled together and away, escaping.



Arkady and the ferals did not pursue, but came gleefully romping back over to Temeraire, alternating complaints at his having knocked them about, with boastful prancing over their victory and the rout of the enemy, which Arkady implied was in spite of Temeraire's jealous interference. "That is not true, at all," Temeraire said, outraged, "you would have been perfectly dished without me," and turned his back upon them and flew towards land, his ruff stiffened up with indignation.



They found Wringe sitting and licking at her scarred wing in the middle of a field. A few clumps of bloodstained white wool upon the grass, and a certain atmosphere of carnage in the air, suggested she had quietly found herself some consolation; but Laurence chose to be blind. Arkady immediately set up as a hero for her benefit, and paraded back and forth to re-enact the encounter. So far as Laurence could follow, the battle might have raged a fortnight, and engaged some hundreds of enemy beasts, all of them vanquished by Arkady's solitary efforts. Temeraire snorted and flicked his tail in disdain, but the other ferals proved perfectly happy to applaud the revisionary account, though they occasionally jumped up to interject stories of their own noble exploits.



Laurence meanwhile had dismounted; his new surgeon Dorset, a rather thin and nervous young man, bespectacled and given to stammering, was going over Wringe's injuries. "Will she be well enough to make the flight back to Dover?" Laurence inquired; the scraped wing looked nasty, what he could see of it; she uneasily kept trying to fold it close and away from the inspection, though fortunately Arkady's theatrics were keeping her distracted enough that Dorset could make some attempt at handling it.



"No," Dorset said, with not the shade of a stammer and a quite casual authority. "She needs lie quiet a day or so under a poultice, and those balls must come out of her shoulder presently, although not now. There is a courier-ground outside Weymouth, which has been taken off the routes and will be free from infection; we must find a way to get her there." He let go the wing and turned back to Laurence blinking his watery eyes.



"Very well," Laurence said, bemused; at the change in his demeanor more than the certainty alone. "Mr. Ferris, have you the maps?"



"Yes, sir; though it is twelve miles straight flying to Weymouth covert across the water, sir, if you please," Ferris said, hesitating over the leather wallet of maps.



Laurence nodded and waved them away. "Temeraire can support her so far, I am sure."



Her weight posed less difficulty than her unease with the proposed arrangement, and, too, Arkady's sudden fit of jealousy, which caused him to propose himself as a substitute: quite ineligible, as Wringe outweighed him by several tons, and they should not have got a yard off the ground.



"Pray do not be so silly," Temeraire said, as she dubiously expressed her reservations at being ferried. "I am not going to drop you unless you bite me. You have only to lie quiet, and it is a very short way."