Читать книгу Empire of Ivory - Наоми Новик - Страница 10
ОглавлениеGong Su, the cook Laurence had hired in China, was enlisted to their cause, and over the course of a week had emptied his spice cabinets. He had made vigorous use of his sharpest peppers, much to the intense disapproval of the herdsmen, who were rousted from comfortable and easy posts, that usually required little more than dragging cows from the pen to slaughter, and had now been set to stirring the pungent cauldrons.
The effect of the new cuisine was a marked one: the dragons’ appetites were more startled awake than coaxed, and many of the near somnolent beasts began clamouring with fresh hunger. However, the spices were not easily replaced, and Gong Su shook his head with dissatisfaction over what the Dover merchants could provide, the cost of which was astronomical.
‘Laurence,’ Jane said, having called him to her quarters for dinner, ‘I hope you will forgive me for dealing you a shabby hand: I mean to send you off to plead our case. I would not like to leave Excidium for long now, and I cannot take him over London sneezing as he does. We can manage a couple of patrols here while you are gone, and so Temeraire may rest; he needs to in any case.
‘And thank Heaven, that fellow Barham, who I believe gave you some difficulty, is out. Grenville has the place now. He is not a bad fellow, so far as I can tell; he does not understand the first thing about dragons, but that hardly makes him unique.’
Later that evening, as Jane reached for her wine glass at the end of her bed and settled back against Laurence’s arm, she said, ‘But I should add, privately, that I would not hazard two pins for my chances of persuading him to anything. He yielded to Powys in the end, over my appointment, and can scarcely bear to address a note to me. The truth is, I have made use of his mortification to squeak through half-a-dozen orders for which I have not quite the authority, some of which I am sure he would have objected to, if he could have done so without summoning me. Our chances of agreement are precious small, but we will do a good deal better with you there.’
It did not prove to be the case, however; even Jane would not have been refused admittance. One of the Navy secretaries: a tall, thin, officious fellow, stood before Laurence speaking impatiently, ‘Yes, yes, I have your numbers written in front of me; and you may be sure we have taken note of the higher requisitions of cattle. But have any of them recovered? You say nothing of that. How many can fly now that could not manage it before, and for how long can they sustain it?’
Laurence resentfully felt as if he were inquiring about the improved performance of a ship, after changes of her cordage or sailcloth. ‘The surgeons are of the opinion, that with these measures we can certainly expect to retard the progress of the illness,’ he could not claim that any had recovered. ‘Which alone must be of benefit, and perhaps with the addition of these pavilions—’
The secretary was shaking his head. ‘If they will not improve further, I cannot give you any encouragement on the matter: we must still build shore batteries along the coastline, and if you think dragons expensive, you cannot imagine the cost of the guns.’
‘All the more reason to spend a little more on the dragons we have, to safeguard their remaining strength,’ Laurence said. In frustration he added, ‘And especially, sir, because it is no more than their just deserts for their service; these are sentient creatures, not dumb cavalry horses.’
‘Oh, such romantic notions,’ the secretary said, dismissively. ‘Captain; I regret to inform you that his Lordship is occupied today. We have your report, and you may be sure he will respond to it, when he has time. I can make you an appointment for next week, perhaps.’
Laurence restrained himself from replying to this incivility in a way he felt it deserved; and departed feeling that he had been a far worse messenger than Jane would have been. His spirits were not to be recovered even upon catching a glimpse of Lord Nelson in the courtyard: splendid in his dress uniform and row of peculiar misshapen medals. They had been partially melted to his skin at Trafalgar, when a pass by a Spanish fire-breather during the battle had caught his flagship, and his life had nearly despaired of from the dreadful burns he received. Laurence was glad to see him so recovered: a line of pink scarred skin was visible upon his jaw, running down his throat into the high collar of his coat; but this did not deter him from talking energetically with, or rather to, a small group of attentive officers, his one arm gesturing wildly.
A crowd had collected at a respectful distance to overhear, and Laurence had to push his way into the street through them, making his muttered apologies as softly as he could; at any other time he might have stayed to listen with them. At present he had to make his way through the streets, thick dark slurry of half-frozen ice and muck chilling his boots, back to the London covert, where Temeraire waited anxiously to receive the news.
‘But surely there must be some means of persuading him,’ Temeraire said. ‘I cannot bear that our friends should be allowed to grow worse, when we have so easy a remedy at hand.’
‘We will have to manage on what we can afford, and stretch that little out,’ Laurence said. ‘Some effect may be produced by simply the searing of the meat, or by stewing it; let us not despair, my dear, but hope that Gong Su’s ingenuity may yet find some answer.”
‘I do not suppose Grenville eats raw beef every night, with the hide still on it, and with no salt added, or that he goes to sleep on the cold ground,’ Temeraire said, resentfully. ‘I should like to see him try it for a week and then try to refuse us.’ His tail lashed dangerously at the already denuded treetops around the edge of the clearing.
Laurence agreed, and then it occurred to him that Grenville was likely to dine from home. He called Emily to fetch him some paper, and wrote several notes in quick succession. The season was not yet begun, but he had a dozen acquaintances besides his family that were likely to be in town for the opening of Parliament. ‘There is very little chance I will be able to catch him,’ he warned Temeraire, to forestall the raising of his hopes, ‘and even less that he will listen to me, if I do.’
He could not wish whole-heartedly for success in locating the man, either; he did not think he could restrain his temper in his present mood, against the further onslaught of casual insults that he was likely to face wearing his aviator’s coat. Indeed, any social occasion promised to be rather a punishment than a pleasure, but an hour before dinner, he received a reply from an old shipmate from the Leander, who had long since made post and was now a member himself, and who expected to meet Grenville that night at Lady Wrightley’s ball: that lady being one of his mother’s intimates.
There was a sad and absurd crush of carriages outside the great house, and a blind obstinacy on the part of two coach drivers who were not willing to give way to each other, narrowing the lane to an impasse so that no one else could move either. Laurence was glad to have resorted to an old fashioned sedan chair, even if he had done so simply due to the impossibility of hiring a horse-drawn carriage anywhere near the covert. He reached the steps unsplattered. Even if his coat were green, at least it was new and properly cut; his linen was beyond reproach and his knee breeches and stockings were a crisp white, so he felt he need not blush for his appearance.
He offered his card and was presented to his hostess, a lady he had met only once before, at one of his mother’s dinners. ‘Pray, how does your mother? I suppose she has gone to the country?’ Lady Wrightley said, perfunctorily extending her hand. ‘Lord Wrightley, this is Captain William Laurence, Lord Allendale’s son.’
A gentleman just lately entered stood beside Lord Wrightley, still speaking with him; he startled at the introduction, and insisted on being presented to Laurence as a Mr. Broughton, from the Foreign Office.
Broughton seized Laurence’s hand with great enthusiasm. ‘Captain Laurence, you must permit me to congratulate you,’ he said. ‘Or should I say, Your Highness, as I suppose we must address you now, ha ha!’
Laurence’s hurried, ‘I beg you will not—’ was thoroughly ignored as an astonished Lady Wrightley demanded an explanation.
‘Why, you have a prince of China attending your party, I will have you know, ma’am. The most complete stroke, Captain, the most complete stroke imaginable. We have had it all from Hammond: his letter has been worn to rags in our offices, and we go about wreathed in delight; we tell others of it just to have the pleasure of saying it over again. How Bonaparte must be gnashing his teeth!’
‘It was nothing to do with me, sir, I assure you,’ Laurence said with growing despair. ‘It was all Mr. Hammond’s doing – a mere formality—’ But he spoke too late, for Broughton was already regaling Lady Wrightley and half-a-dozen other interested parties with a account both colourful and highly inaccurate of Laurence’s adoption, which in truth had been nothing more than a means of saving-face. The Chinese had required the excuse in order to give Laurence their official imprimatur to serve as companion to a Celestial dragon, a privilege reserved solely for the Imperial family. He was quite sure that the Chinese had forgotten his existence the very moment he had departed: he had not entertained the least notion of trading upon the adoption at home.
The brangle of carriages outside had stifled the flow of newcomers causing a lull in the party, still in its early hours, which made everyone more willing to hear the exotic story, although its success had already been guaranteed by the fairy-tale colouration that it had acquired. And so, Laurence found himself the subject of much attention. Lady Wrightley was by no means embarrassed to pronounce Laurence’s attendance a coup rather than a favour done for an old friend.
He would have liked to go at once, but Grenville had not yet arrived, and so he clenched his teeth and bore the indignity of being presented around the room. ‘No, I am afraid I am not ranked in the line of succession,’ he said, over and over, privately thinking that he would like to see the reaction of the Chinese to such a suggestion; they had implied that he was an unlettered savage on more than occasion.
He had not expected to dance; society was perennially uncertain on the subject of the aviators’ respectability, and he did not mean to blight some lady’s reputation, nor open himself to the unpleasant experience of being fended off by a chaperone. But just before the first dance commenced, his hostess presented him deliberately to one of her guests, as an eligible partner. Miss Lucas was perhaps in her second or third season; a plump attractive girl, still delighted with the frivolity of a ball, and full of easy, cheerful conversation.
‘How well you dance!’ she exclaimed, after they had traversed the floor together, with rather more surprise than was complimentary. She asked a great many questions about the Chinese court, which he could not answer: the ladies had been kept thoroughly sequestered from their view. He entertained her a little instead with the description of a theatrical performance, but as he had been stabbed shortly after it ended, his memory proved somewhat imperfect, and naturally it had been carried out in Chinese.
Miss Lucas, in turn, told him a great deal about her family in Hertfordshire, and her tribulations with the harp, expressing the hope of one day playing for him, and then mentioned her next youngest sister who was due to be presented next season. She was nineteen, he surmised; and was struck abruptly when the realisation that Catherine Harcourt had been already Lily’s captain and had flown that year in the Battle of Dover at this age, struck him. He looked at the smiling muslin-clad girl with a hollow feeling, and then looked away. He had written two letters each to Harcourt and to Berkley, on Temeraire’s behalf and his own; but no answer had come. He knew nothing of how they, or their dragons, fared.
He politely returned the lady to her mother; but, having proved himself to be a satisfactory partner, was then forced to submit with to one set after another, until at last, near eleven o’clock, Grenville arrived with a small party of gentlemen.
‘I am expected in Dover tomorrow, sir, or would not trouble you here,’ Laurence said grimly after approaching him. He loathed the necessity of such an encroachment, and did not know whether he could have steeled himself to it, had he not been introduced to Grenville many years before,
‘Laurence, yes,’ Grenville said, vaguely, looking like he wished to move on swiftly. He was no great politician: his brother was the prime minister, and he had been made a lord out of loyalty, and not for his brilliance or even his ambition. He listened without enthusiasm to Laurence’s proposals; detailed carefully for the benefit of their interested audience, who had to remain in ignorance of the epidemic: once the general public was in possession of such information, there could be no concealing it from the enemy.
‘Provision is made,’ Laurence said, ‘for the relatives of the slain, for the sick and wounded, not least because such care will preserve them, or their offspring, for future service. The revisions we desire are nothing more than those attentions, sir, and they have been proven to be beneficial from the example set by the Chinese, whom all of the world acknowledge as being foremost in the understanding of dragonkind.’
‘Of course, of course,’ Grenville said. ‘The comfort and welfare of our brave sailors or aviators, and all of our good beasts, is always principal in the considerations of the Admiralty,’ a meaningless platitude to anyone who had ever visited an army hospital, or had, as Laurence, been forced to subsist upon the provisions deemed suitable for those brave sailors in times of crisis: rotting meat, weevil infested biscuits and the vinegar-water beverage which passed for wine. Veterans of his own crews, or their widows, had also been denied their pensions on scurrilous grounds on far too many occasions, rendering Grenville’s claim absurd.
‘May I hope, then, sir,’ Laurence said, ‘that you approve of us proceeding on this course?’ An avowal, which could not easily be refused without embarrassment; but Grenville was too slippery, and evaded the commitment without openly refusing.
‘We must consider the particulars of these proposals more extensively, Captain; before anything can be done,’ he said. ‘We must consult our best medical men,’ he continued in this vein without pause for some time, until he turned to another gentleman of his acquaintance who had arrived, and addressed him in a new topic: a clear dismissal, and Laurence knew that nothing would be done.
He limped back to the covert in the early hours of the morning; the sun’s faint light just beginning to show. Temeraire lay fast asleep and dreaming, his tail twitching idly back and forth. His crew had dispersed into the barracks or were tucked against his sides, the warmer, if less dignified sleeping place. Laurence went straight to the small cottage that had been provided for his use and sank gladly upon the bed. Wincing, he worked off the tight buckled shoes, still new and stiff, which had cut into his feet.
The morning was a silent one. Besides his failure, which had somehow been communicated throughout the covert, though he had told no one but Temeraire, Laurence had given the men a general furlough night before; and judging by their bloodshot eyes and wan faces, they had made good use of their leave. There was a certain degree of clumsiness and fatigue apparent in their movements, and Laurence watched anxiously as their breakfast, large pots of oat porridge, were manoeuvred precariously off the fire.
Temeraire meanwhile finished picking his teeth with a large leg-bone, the remnant of his own breakfast, a stew of tender veal with onions, and set it down. ‘Laurence, do you still mean to build the one pavilion, even if the Admiralty will give us no funds?’
‘I do,’ Laurence answered. Most aviators acquired only a small amount of prize-money from their battles, as the Admiralty paid little for the capture of a dragon compared to the requisition of a ship, the latter more easily put to use than the former, which required substantial expense in its upkeep. But Laurence had established a handsome level of capital while he was still a naval officer, against which he had little charge, his ordinary pay being sufficient to meet his needs. ‘I must consult with the tradesmen, but I hope that by economising upon the materials and reducing the pavilion in size, I will be able to afford to construct one for you.’
‘Then,’ Temeraire said, with a determined and heroic air, ‘I have been thinking: pray let us build it in the quarantine-grounds instead. I do not much mind my clearing at Dover, and I would rather Maximus and Lily were more comfortable.’
Laurence was surprised; generosity was not a common trait among dragons, who were rather jealous of anything that they considered their property, and a particularly things that were marks of status. ‘If you are quite certain, my dear; it is a noble thought.’
Temeraire toyed with the leg-bone and did not look entirely certain, but eventually made his assent final. ‘In any case,’ he added, ‘once we have built it, perhaps the Admiralty will see the benefit of them, and then I may have an even more handsome one: it would not be very pleasant to have a small poky one, when everyone else’s is nicer.’ This thought cheered him considerably, and he crunched up the bone with satisfaction.
Revived with strong tea and a good breakfast, the crew began to get Temeraire under harness for their return to Dover, only they were still a little slow; Ferris took special pains in seeing that the buckles were secure after Laurence dropped a quiet word in his ear.
‘Sir,’ little Dyer said, as he and Emily came in from the covert gates carrying the post bound for Dover, which they would carry with them, ‘there are some gentlemen approaching.’ Temeraire raised his head from the ground as Lord Allendale came into the covert with a slight, plainly dressed gentleman at his side.
Their progress was arrested as they stared at the great inquisitive head peering at them, and Laurence was very glad for the delay, which gave him time to gather his wits: he would not have been more shocked to receive a visit from the King, but he would have been a good deal more pleased. He could imagine only one cause for the visit: there had been more than one person of his parents’ acquaintance present at the ball, and the news of the foreign adoption must have travelled straight to his father’s ear. Laurence knew he had given his father just cause to reproach him by having submitted to a foreign adoption, however politically expedient it was, but he was by no means remorseful enough to endure reproach in front of his officers and his crew, aside from any consideration for what Temeraire’s reaction might be to seeing him so abused.
He handed away his coffee cup to Emily, and gave his clothing a surreptitious glance, grateful that the cold morning meant he had not been tempted to forgo coat or neckcloth. ‘I am honoured to see you, sir; will you take tea?’ he asked, crossing the clearing to shake his father’s hand.
‘No, we have breakfasted,’ Lord Allendale said, abruptly, his eyes still fixed on Temeraire. Only with some effort did he turn away to present to Laurence his companion, Mr. Wilberforce: one of the champions of the abolition movement.
Laurence had only met the gentleman once, long ago. Wilberforce’s face had settled into grave lines during the intervening decades, deepening now as he looked anxiously up at Temeraire; but there was still something warm and good humoured about his mouth, and a gentleness to his eyes, confirming the early impression of generosity which Laurence had carried away, if indeed his public works had not been testament enough to it. Twenty years of city air and incessant fighting had ruined his health, but not his character. Political intrigue and the West Indies’ interests had undermined his work, but he had persevered; and even besides his tireless labour against slavery, he had stood a resolute reformer all the while.
In the furthering of Temeraire’s cause, there was scarcely a man whose advice Laurence would have desired more; and if the circumstances had been other, and he had reached a rapprochement with his father, he would certainly have sought an introduction. However, he could not understand why his father should bring Wilberforce hence, unless perhaps he had some curiosity to encounter a dragon.
But the gentleman’s expression as he looked upon Temeraire did not seem enthusiastic. ‘I would be very happy for a cup of tea, in the quiet, perhaps?’ he said, and after some hesitation yielded to further question, ‘Is the beast quite tame?’
‘I am not tame,’ Temeraire said indignantly, his hearing perfectly capable of overhearing this exchange, ‘but I am certainly not going to hurt you, if that is what you are asking; you have more reason to fear being stepped upon by a horse.’ He twitched his tail angrily against his side, nearly knocking over a couple of the topmen engaged in pitching the travelling-tent upon his back, and so gave himself the lie even as he spoke. His audience was sufficiently distracted by his remarks not to notice this point, however.
‘It is most wonderful,’ Mr. Wilberforce said, after conversing with him a little longer, ‘to discover such excellent understanding in a creature so far removed from ourselves; one might call it even miraculous. But I see that you are making ready to depart; so I must beg your pardon,’ he bowed to Temeraire, ‘and yours, Captain, for so indelicately moving to the subject which has brought us here: in short, we seek your assistance.’
‘I hope you will speak frankly, sir,’ Laurence said, thoroughly mystified, and begged them to sit down, making his apologies for the surroundings. Emily and Dyer had dragged chairs out of the cabin for their use, as the small building was hardly fit for receiving guests, and arranged them near the embers of the fire for warmth.
‘I should be clear’,’ Wilberforce began, ‘that no one could be insensible of the service which the Right Honourable gentleman has rendered his country, or begrudge him the just rewards of that service, and the respect of the common man—’
‘You might better say blind adoration of the common man,’ Lord Allendale put in, with heavy disapproval. ‘And some persons not so common, who have less excuse; the influence that the man has upon the Lords is appalling. Every day that he is not at sea brings fresh disaster.’ After a few moments more of confusion, Laurence gathered that they were speaking of none other than Vice-Admiral Nelson.
‘Forgive me,’ Wilberforce stepped in diplomatically, ‘we have spoken so much of these matters, amongst ourselves, that we go too quickly.’ He drew a hand over his jaw, and rubbed his jowls. ‘I believe you know something of the difficulties which we have encountered, against our attempts to abolish the trade in human life?’
‘I do,’ Laurence said. Twice, victory had seemed within their reach, but the House of Lords had held up the resolution using some excuse connected with the examination of witnesses. On another attempt the bill had indeed gone through, but only after certain amendments that had changed immediate abolition to gradual abolition: so gradual that there had been no sign of it, even fifteen years later. At that time The Terror in revolutionary France had already made a bloody ruin of the word liberty, and put the derivative label of Jacobin into the mouths of the slave traders to be levelled against abolitionists. No further progress had been made, for many years.
‘But this last session,’ Wilberforce said, ‘we were on the verge of achieving a vital measure: an act, which should have barred new ships from joining the slave trade. It ought to have been passed, we had the votes in our grasp; and then Nelson came back from the country. He had just lately risen from his sickbed, and he chose to address Parliament upon the subject; the vigour of his opposition alone caused the measure to fail.’
‘I am sorry to hear it,’ Laurence said, though not surprised. Nelson’s views had been pronounced in public often enough. Like many a naval officer, he thought slavery a necessary evil, a nursery for her sailors and the foundation of her trade; he saw the abolitionists as cohort of quixotic enthusiasts bent on undermining Britain’s maritime power and threatening her hold upon her colonies. He believed that only this domination allowed her to hold fast against the looming threat of Napoleon. ‘Very sorry,’ he continued, ‘but I do not know what use I can be to you; I cannot claim any personal acquaintance with the gentleman that might give me the opportunity to attempt to persuade him—’
‘No, no; we have no such hope,’ Wilberforce said. ‘He has expressed himself too decidedly upon the subject. Many of his greatest friends, and sadly most of his creditors, are slave owners or are involved with the trade. I am sorry to say such considerations lead astray even the best and wisest of men.’
They sought, he explained while Lord Allendale continued to look morose, to offer the public a rival for their interest and admiration, and gradually Laurence understood through their circular approaches that they meant to offer him as this figure, on the grounds of his recent and exotic expedition and the very adoption which he had expected his father to condemn.
‘The public will take a natural interest in your late adventure,’ Wilberforce said, ‘and you have the authority of a military officer who has fought against Napoleon in the field; your voice can challenge Nelson’s assertions that the end of the trade will be the ruin of the nation.’
‘Sir,’ Laurence said, not certain if he was sorry to disoblige Mr. Wilberforce, or happy to be forced to refuse such an undertaking, ‘I hope you will not think me lacking in respect or conviction, but I am in no way fit for such a role; and could not agree to assist you, even if I wished to. I am a serving officer; my time is not my own.’
‘But here you are in London,’ Wilberforce pointed out gently, ‘and surely, when stationed at the Channel, you could on occasion be spared?’ It was a suggestion that Laurence could not easily contradict without betraying the secret of the epidemic, presently confined to the Corps and only the most senior officials of the Admiralty. ‘I know it cannot be a comfortable proposal, Captain, but we are engaged in God’s work here; we ought not scruple to use any tool which He has put in our path.’
‘For Heaven’s sake, you will have to do nothing but attend a dinner party, perhaps a few; kindly do not cavil,’ Lord Allendale said brusquely, tapping his fingers upon the arm of his chair. ‘Of course one cannot enjoy this self-puffery, but you have tolerated far worse indignities, and made a far greater spectacle of yourself, than what we ask of you: last night, if you like—’
‘You needn’t speak so to Laurence,’ Temeraire interrupted coldly, giving the gentlemen both a start. They had already forgotten that he was listening to their conversation. ‘We have chased off the French four times this last week, and flown nine patrols; we are very tired and have come to London only because our friends are sick and have been left to starve and die in the cold, because the Admiralty will do nothing to make them more comfortable.’
He finished stormily, a low threatening resonance building deep in his throat: the instinctive reaction to use the divine wind lingered as an echo after his words. No one spoke for a moment, and then Wilberforce said thoughtfully, ‘It seems to me that we need not be at cross-purposes; and we may advance your cause, Captain, with our own.’
They had meant, it seemed, to launch him at some social event, the dinner-party that Lord Allendale had mentioned, or perhaps even a staged ball, which Wilberforce then proposed to make a subscription-party. ‘It’s avowed purpose,’ he explained, ‘will be to raise funds for sick and wounded dragons, the veterans of Trafalgar and Dover. There are such veterans, among the sick, aren’t there Captain?’ he asked.
‘There are some,’ Laurence said. He did not admit it was all of them; all but Temeraire.
Wilberforce nodded. ‘Those are names to conjure with later. These dark days,’ he continued, ‘when all see Napoleon’s star in ascendancy over the Continent, will give further emphasis still, to your reputation as a hero of the nation, and make your words a stronger counterweight to Nelson’s.’
Laurence could scarcely bear to hear himself so described; and in comparison with Nelson, who had led four great fleet actions, destroyed all of Napoleon’s navy, and established Britain’s primacy at sea; Nelson who had justly won a ducal coronet by valour in battle, not been made a foreign prince through subterfuge and political machination. ‘Sir,’ he said, struggling to restrain himself from inflicting a violent rejection, ‘I must beg you not to speak so; there can be no just comparison.’
‘No, indeed,’ Temeraire said, energetically. ‘I do not think much of this Nelson, if he has anything to say for slavery. I am sure he cannot be half so nice as Laurence, no matter how many battles he has won. I have never seen anything half as dreadful as those poor slaves in Cape Coast; and I am very glad if we can help them, as well as our friends.’
‘And this, from a dragon,’ Wilberforce said, with great satisfaction, while Laurence was made mute by dismay. ‘What man can help but feel pity for those wretched souls, when their plight stirs such a breast? Indeed,’ he said, turning to Lord Allendale, ‘we ought to hold the assembly where we sit. I am certain it will answer all the better, producing a great sensation, and moreover,’ he added, with a glint of humour in his eye, ‘I should like to see the gentleman who can refuse to consider an argument made to him by a dragon, while the dragon stands before him.’
‘Out of doors, in this season?’ Lord Allendale said, with great scepticism.
‘We might organize it like the pavilion-dinners in China: long tables, with coal-pits underneath to warm them,’ Temeraire suggested, entering with enthusiasm into the spirit of the idea, while Laurence could only listen with increasing desperation, as his fate was sealed. ‘We might have to knock down some more trees to make room, but I can do that very easily, and if we were to hang panels of silk from the remaining ones, it will seem quite like a pavilion, and I am sure to keep warm besides.’
‘An excellent notion,’ Wilberforce said, leaving his chair to inspect the scratched diagrams which Temeraire was drawing in the dirt. ‘It will have an Oriental flavour, that is exactly what is needed.’
‘Well, if you think it so; all I can say in its favour, is that it will certainly be the latest nine days’ wonder, whether half a dozen curiosity-seekers come or not,’ Lord Allendale said, and rose brushing the dust from his trousers to say, ‘The preparations will require some time: let us say we hold it in three weeks, and fix the date for the twelfth of the new year.’
‘We can spare you for a night, now and again,’ Jane said, sinking Laurence’s final hope of escape. ‘Our intelligence is limited, now that we have no couriers to risk on spy missions, but the Navy do good business with the French fishermen on the blockade, and they say there has yet been no movement to the coast. They might be lying, of course,’ she added, ‘but if there were a marked shift in numbers, the price of the catches would have risen, with more livestock going to dragons.’
The maid brought in the tea, and Jane poured for him. ‘Do not I beg you repine too much upon it,’ she went on, referring to the Admiralty’s refusal to grant them more funds. ‘Perhaps this party of yours will do us some good in that quarter, and Powys has written me with the news that he has cobbled together something already, through a subscription among the retired senior officers. It will not make for anything extravagant, but I think we can at least keep the poor creatures in pepper, until then.’
Meanwhile, they set about building the experimental pavilion. The promise of such a substantial commission proved enough to tempt a handful of the more intrepid tradesmen to the Dover covert. Laurence met them at the gates with a party of crewmen, and escorted them the rest of the way to Temeraire, who in an attempt to be unalarming, had hunched himself down as small as any dragon of eighteen tons could, and had nearly flattened his ruff completely against his neck. But he could not resist insinuating himself into the conversation once the construction of the pavilion was well under discussion, and indeed his offerings proved quite necessary, as Laurence had not the faintest notion how to translate the Chinese measurements.
‘I want one!’ Iskierka said, having overheard too much of the proceedings from her nearby clearing. Heedless of Granby’s protests, she squirmed through the trees into Temeraire’s quarter, shaking a blizzard of ash, and greatly alarming the poor tradesmen with a hiccup of fire, which sent steam shooting out of her spines. ‘I want to sleep in a pavilion too: I do not like this cold dirt at all.’
‘Well, you cannot have one,’ Temeraire said. ‘This is for our sick friends, and anyway you have no capital to hand.’
‘Then I shall get some,’ she declared. ‘Where does one get capital, and what does it look like?’
Temeraire proudly rubbed his breastplate of platinum and pearl. ‘This is a piece of capital,’ he said, ‘and Laurence gave it to me. He won it taking a ship in a battle.’
‘Oh! that is very easy,’ Iskierka said. ‘Granby, let us go get a ship, and then I may have a pavilion.’
‘Lord, you cannot have anything of the sort, do not be silly,’ Granby said, nodding rueful apologies to Laurence as he entered the clearing along the trail of smashed branches and crushed hedge which his dragon had left in her wake. ‘You would burn it down in an instant: the thing is made of wood.’
‘Can it not be made of stone?’ she demanded, swinging her head around to eye one of the horrified tradesmen. She had not yet grown very large, despite the twelve feet in length she had acquired with a steady diet, since settling at Dover. She was sinuous rather than bulky, in the normal Kazilik style, and looked little more than a garden-snake next to Temeraire. But her appearance at close quarters was by no means as reassuring: the hissing-kettle-noise, of whatever internal mechanism produced her fire, was plainly audible and the vents of hot air issued from her spines, white and impressive in the cold air.
No one answered her, except the elderly architect, Mr. Royle. ‘Stone? No, I must advise against it. Brick would be a much more practical construction,’ he opined. He had not looked up from the plans since being handed them. Badly nearsighted, he inspected them with a jeweller’s loupe, held an inch from his watery blue eyes, and could most likely not make either dragon out. ‘Silly oriental stuff, this roof, do you insist on having it so?’
‘It is not silly oriental stuff at all,’ Temeraire said, indignantly, ‘it is very elegant: that design is my mother’s own pavilion, and it is in the best fashion.’
‘You will need linkboys on it all winter long to brush the snow clear, and I will not give a brass farthing for the gutters after two seasons,’ Royle said. ‘A good slate roof, that is the thing, do you not agree with me, Mr. Cutter?’
Mr. Cutter had no opinion to offer, as he had backed against the trees and looked ready to bolt; and would have if Laurence had not prudently stationed his ground-crew around the border of the clearing to forestall just such panic.
‘I am very willing to be advised by you, sir, as to the best plan of construction, and the most reasonable,’ Laurence said, while Royle blinked around looking for the source of the response. ‘Temeraire, our climate here is a good deal wetter, so we must cut our cloth to suit our station.’
‘Very well, I suppose,’ Temeraire said, casting a wistful eye at the upturned roof and the brightly painted wood.
Iskierka meanwhile, had been inspired and began to plot her acquisition of capital. ‘If I burn up a ship, is that good enough, or must I bring it back whole?’ she demanded.
Her piratical career began the next morning, when she presented Granby with a small fishing-boat, which she had picked out of the Dover harbour during the night. ‘Well, you did not say it must be a French ship,’ she said crossly, to their recriminations, and curled up to sulk. Stealthy little Gherni was hastily recruited to replace it the following night, under the cover of darkness, undoubtedly to the great consternation of its temporarily bereft owner.
‘Laurence, do you suppose that we could obtain more capital by taking French ships?’ Temeraire asked, with a level of thoughtfulness very alarming to Laurence, who had just returned from dealing with Iskierka’s pretty piece of confusion.
‘The French ships are penned in their harbours by the Channel blockade, thank Heaven, and we are not privateers, to go plying the lanes for their shipping,’ Laurence said. ‘Your life is too valuable to risk in such a selfish endeavour. In any case, once you have began to behave in such an undisciplined manner, you may be sure Arkady and his lot would follow your example and leave Britain undefended; not to mention the encouragement that Iskierka would take from it.’
‘Whatever am I to do with her?’ Granby said, wearily taking a glass of wine with Laurence and Jane in the officers’ common room at the covert headquarters that same evening. ‘I suppose being dragged hither and yon in the shell, has caused it; and all the fuss and excitement she has had since. But that cannot excuse it forever. I must manage her somehow, and I am at a standstill. I would not be surprised if one morning I awoke to find the entire harbour set alight, because she took it into her head that we would not have to sit about defending the city if it were all burned up. I cannot even make her sit still long enough to get her under full harness.’
‘Never mind; I will come by tomorrow, and see what I can do,’ Jane said, pushing the bottle over to him again. ‘She is a little young for work, but I think her energy had better be put to use, than cause all this fretting. Have you chosen your lieutenants yet, Granby?’
‘I will have Lithgow, for my first, if you’ve no objection, and Harper for a second, to act as captain of the riflemen also,’ he said. ‘I don’t like to take too many men, when we don’t know what her growth will be like.’
‘You would not like to turn them off later, you mean, when they, like as not, they cannot get another post.’ Jane said gently, ‘I know it will be hard if it comes to that; but we cannot short-change her, not with her so wild. Take Row also, as captain of the bellmen. He is old enough to retire if he must be turned off, and he is a good steady campaigner, who will not blink at her starts.’
Granby nodded a little, his head bowed. The next morning, with great state, Jane came to Iskierka’s clearing. She wore all of her medals, a gold-plated sabre and pistols on her belt and even her great plumed hat, which aviators scarcely used. Granby had assembled his new crew, and they saluted her with a great noise of arms. Iskierka nearly coiled herself into knots with excitement, and the ferals and even Temeraire peered over the trees to watch with interest.
‘Well, Iskierka; your captain tells me that you are ready for service,’ Jane said, putting her hat under her arm, and looking sternly at the little Kazilik, ‘but what are these reports I hear, that you will not mind his orders? We cannot send you into battle if you cannot follow orders.’
‘Oh! It is not true!’ Iskierka said. ‘I can follow orders as well as anyone, it is only that no one will give me any good ones. I am told only to sit, and not to fight, and to eat three times a day; I do not want any more stupid cows!’ she added, smoulderingly. The ferals, after having this translated for them by their own handful of officers, set up a low squabbling murmur of disbelief.
‘It is not simply the pleasant orders we must follow, but the tiresome as well,’ Jane said, when the noise had died down. ‘Do you suppose Captain Granby likes to sit in this clearing, forever waiting for you to grow more settled? Perhaps he would rather go back to service with Temeraire, and enjoy some fighting.’
Iskierka’s eyes stretched platter-wide, and her spikes hissed like a furnace. In an instant she had thrown a pair of jealous coils around Granby, which bade fair to boil him like a lobster in steam. ‘He would not! You would not, at all, would you?’ she appealed. ‘I will fight just as well as Temeraire, I promise; and I will even obey the stupidest orders, at least, if I may have some pleasant ones also,’ she qualified hastily.
‘I am sure she will mind better in future, sir,’ Granby managed coughing, his hair was already soaking, and plastered against his forehead and neck. ‘Pray don’t fret; I would never leave you, only I am getting wet,’ he added, plaintively.
‘Hm,’ Jane said, with frowning consideration. ‘Since Granby speaks for you, I suppose we will give you your chance.’ she said, at last, ‘You may even have your first orders, Captain, if she will let you come for them, and stand still for her harness.’
Iskierka immediately let him loose and stretched herself out for the ground-crew, only craning her neck a little to see the red-sealed and yellow-tasselled packet, which communicated their instruction in very ornate and important language, to do nothing more than run a quick, hour long patrol down to Guernsey and back. ‘And you may take her by that old heap of rubble at Castle Cornet, where the gunpowder blew up the tower. Tell her it is a French outpost, and that she may flame it from aloft,’ Jane added to Granby, in a soft tone, not meant for Iskierka’s ears.
Iskierka’s harness was a great deal of trouble to arrange as her spines were arranged quite randomly, and the frequent issuing of steam made her hide slick. An improvised collection of short straps and many buckles, had been constructed and were wretchedly easy to tangle, so she could not entirely be blamed for growing tired of the process. But the promise of action and the interested crowd made her more patient this time; and at some length she was properly rigged out. Granby said, with relief, ‘There, it is quite secure. Now, see if you can shake any of it loose, dear one.’
She writhed and beat her wings, twisting herself this way and that to inspect the harness. ‘You are supposed to say, ‘all lies well,’ if you are comfortable,’ Temeraire whispered loudly to her, after she had been engaged in this sport for several minutes.
‘Oh, I see,’ she said, and settling again announced, ‘All lies well. Now, we shall go?’
In this way she was at least a little reformed, though no one could have called her obliging, and she invariably stretched her patrols further afield than Granby would have them; in hope of meeting an enemy more challenging than an old fort and a couple of innocent birds. ‘But at least she will take a little training, and is eating properly, which I call victory enough, for now,’ Granby said. ‘And after all, as much as she frightens us, she’ll give the Frogs a worse scare. Laurence, can you believe, we talked to the fellows up at Castle Cornet, and they set up a bit of sail for her at aim at, and she can set it alight from eighty yards away. That’s twice the range of a Flamme-de-Gloire, and she can go at it for five minutes straight! I don’t understand how she gets her breath while she does it.’
They’d had considerable trouble keeping her out of direct combat, for the French continued their harassment and scouting of the coast with ever-increasing aggression. Jane used the sick dragons more frequently for basic patrols to spare Temeraire and the ferals, who instead waited for most of the day on the cliff tops for the warning flare to go up, or listening with ears pricked for the report of a signal-gun, before dashing frantically to meet another incursion.
In the space of two weeks, Temeraire had four skirmishes with small groups, and once Arkady and a few of his band, sent on patrol by themselves while Temeraire snatched a few more hours of sleep, barely managed to turn back a Pou-de-Ciel who had daringly tried to slip past the shore-batteries at Dover, less than a mile away from having a clear view of the quarantine-grounds.
The ferals returned from their narrow victory naturally delighted with themselves, and Jane with quick cleverness took the opportunity to present to Arkady, with full ceremony, a long length of chain with a large dinner-platter inscribed with his name for a medal; almost worthless, being made only of brass, but polished to a fine golden shine. Arkady was rendered speechless as it was fastened about his neck; but for only a moment, after which he erupted into a torrent of carolling joy, and insisted that every single one of his fellows inspect his prize; even Temeraire did not escape this fate. He bristled and withdrew with indignity to his own clearing to polish his breastplate vigorously.
‘You cannot compare them.’ Laurence said, cautiously, ‘It is only a trinket, to make him complacent, and encourage them in their efforts.’
‘Oh, certainly.’ Temeraire said, haughtily. ‘Mine is much nicer; I would not want anything so common as brass.’ After a moment he added, muttering, ‘But his is very large.’
‘Cheap at double the price,’ Jane said the next day, when he came to give the morning report, for once uneventful. The ferals were more zealous than ever, and rather disappointed not to find more enemies. ‘They come along handsomely, just as we had hoped.’ But she spoke wearily.
Laurence poured her a small glass of brandy and brought it to her at the window, where she stood looking out at the ferals cavorting in mid-air over their clearing. ‘Thank you, I will.’ She took the glass, but did not drink at once. ‘Conterrenis has gone,’ she said abruptly. ‘The first Longwing we have lost; it was a bloody business.’ She sat down heavily. ‘He took a bad chill and suffered a haemorrhage in his lungs, so the surgeons tell me. At any rate, he could not stop coughing, and so his acid came and came; it began to build up on his spurs and sear his skin. It laid his jaw bare to the bone.’ She paused. ‘Gardenley shot him this morning.’
Laurence took the chair beside her, feeling wholly inadequate to the task of providing any comfort. After a little while she drank the brandy and set down her glass, and they turned back to the maps to discuss the next day’s patrolling.
He left her, ashamed now of dreading the party, now only a few days’ hence, and determined to put himself forward with no regard for his own mortification; for even the smallest chance of improving’ the conditions of the sick dragons.
… and I hope you will permit me to suggest, Wilberforce had written, that any Oriental touch to your wardrobe, even a little one, which might at a glance set you apart, would be most useful. I am happy to report that we have engaged some Chinese to serve, by offering a good sum in the ports, where occasionally a few of them may be found having taken service on an East Indiaman. They are not properly trained, of course, but they will only be carrying dishes to and from the kitchens, and we have instructed them most severely to show no alarm in the presence of the dragon, which I hope they have understood. However, I do have some anxiety as to their comprehension of what faces them, and should you have enough liberty to come early, hope that we may try their fortitude.
Laurence stifled his sighs, sent his Chinese coat to his tailors for refurbishment, and asked Jane her permission to go early. The Chinese servants did indeed cause a great commotion on their arrival, but only by abandoning their work and running to prostrate themselves before Temeraire, almost throwing themselves beneath his feet in their efforts to make the show of respect that they considered a Celestial’s due. The British workmen who were engaged in the final decoration of the covert were not nearly so complaisant, and vanished one and all, leaving the great panels of embroidered silk, ordered at vast expense, hanging askew from the tree branches and dragging upon the earth.
Wilberforce exclaimed in dismay as he came to greet Laurence; but Temeraire issued instructions to the Chinese servants, who set to work with great energy, and with the assistance of the crew the covert was a handsome sight in time to receive the guests. Brass lamps were tied onto branches to stand in place of Chinese paper lanterns, and small coal-stoves placed at intervals along the tables.
‘We may bring the business off, if it does not snow,’ Lord Allendale said, pessimistically, arriving early to inspect the arrangements. ‘It is a great pity your mother could not be here,’ he added, ‘but the child has not yet come, and she does not like to leave Elizabeth in her confinement,’ referring to the wife of Laurence’s eldest brother, soon to present him with his fifth child.
The night stayed clear, if cold, and the guests began to arrive in cautious dribs and drabs, keeping well away from Temeraire, who was ensconced in his clearing at the far end of the long tables, and peering at him not very surreptitiously through their opera glasses. Laurence’s officers were meanwhile standing by him, stiff and equally terrified in their best clothes: all new, fortunately, and Laurence was rewarded for the trouble he had taken in directing his officers to the better tailors in Dover, for the repairs which all their wardrobes required after their long stay abroad, by seeing them in well fitting coats and trousers.
Emily was the only one of them truly pleased, as she had acquired her first silk gown for the occasion; and if she tripped upon the hem a little she did not seem to mind. She was rather exultant over her kid gloves and string of pearls, which Jane had bestowed upon her. ‘It is late enough in all conscience for her to be learning how to manage skirts,’ Jane said. ‘Do not fret, Laurence. I promise you no one will be suspicious. I have made a cake of myself in public a dozen times, and no one has ever thought me an aviator for it. But if it gives you any comfort, you may tell them that she is your niece.’
‘I will do no such thing; my father will be there, and I assure you he is thoroughly aware of all his grandchildren,’ Laurence said. His father would immediately conclude Emily to be his own natural-born child, should he make such a claim. He privately decided that he would keep Emily close by Temeraire’s side, where she would be little seen; he had no doubt that his guests would keep a good distance away, whatever persuasion Mr. Wilberforce intended to apply.
That persuasion, however, took the most undesirable form. Mr. Wilberforce spotted Emily and said, ‘Come; behold this young girl who thinks nothing of standing within reach of the dragon. Even if you can permit yourself, madam, to be outdone by trained aviators, I hope you will not allow a child to outstrip you?’
With a sinking heart Laurence observed his father turning to cast an astonished eye on Emily, confirming his worst fears. Lord Allendale did not scruple, either, to approach and interrogate her. Emily, perfectly innocent of malice, answered him in her clear girlish voice, ‘Oh, I have lessons every day, sir, from the Captain, although it is Temeraire who gives me my mathematics, now, as Captain Laurence does not like arithmetic. But I would rather practice fencing,’ she added candidly, looking a little uncertain when she found herself laughed over and pronounced a dear by the pair of ladies who had been persuaded to venture close to the great table, by her example.
‘A masterful stroke, Captain,’ Wilberforce murmured softly. ‘Wherever did you find her?’ He did not wait for an answer as he then accosted a party of gentlemen who had risked coming closer, and continued to work upon them in the same fashion; embellishing his persuasions with if Lady So-and-So had been brave enough to approach Temeraire, surely they could not show themselves hesitant.
Temeraire was very interested in all of the guests, particularly admiring the more bejewelled ladies, and managed by accident to please the Marchioness of Carstoke, a lady of advanced years whose bosom was concealed only by a vulgar array of emeralds set in gold, by informing her that she looked a good deal more like a monarch, in his estimation, than did the Queen of Prussia, whom he had only seen in travelling clothes.
Several gentlemen challenged him to perform simple sums, a challenge to which he blinked a little, and having given them the answers, enquired whether this was the sort of game normally played at parties, and whether he ought to offer them a mathematical problem in return.
‘Dyer, pray bring me my sand-table,’ he said, and when this was agreed. Using his claw he sketched out a small diagram for the purpose of posing them a question on the Pythagorean theorem, which proved sufficient to baffle most of the gentlemen, whose own mathematical skill did not extend past the card tables.
‘But it is a very simple exercise,’ Temeraire insisted in some confusion, wondering aloud to Laurence if he had missed some sort of joke. At last a member of the Royal Society on a quest to observe certain aspects of Celestial anatomy, was able to provide the answer.
When Temeraire had spoken to the servants in Chinese, conversed in fluent French with several of the guests and failed to eat or crush anyone, fascination began at last to trump fear and draw more of the company towards him. Soon Laurence found himself quite neglected and of considerably less interest; a circumstance which would have delighted him, if only it had not left him to make awkward conversation with his father, who inquired stiltedly about Emily’s mother. He posed questions which if evaded would only have made Laurence seem more guilty, and yet whose perfectly truthful answers, that Emily was the natural-born daughter of Jane Roland, a gentlewoman living in Dover, and that he had taken charge of her education, still left entirely the wrong impression. And Laurence could no more correct this, than his father could outright ask.
