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Authors: Naomi Novik

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instead, Erasmus shook his head. "Evil should not be

returned for evil," he said. "Their judgment belongs to the

Lord: my answer to their crimes will be to return to my

fellows with the word of God. And I hope that the practice

cannot long continue when we are all brothers in Christ, so

that the slaver and his prey will both be saved."

Temeraire was dubious of this most Christian speech, and

after Erasmus had left them muttered, "I would not give a

fig for the slavers, myself; and God ought to judge them

more quickly," a blasphemous remark which made Laurence

blanch, lest Wilberforce should have overheard; but his

attention was fortunately elsewhere at present, on a

growing noise at the far end of the long clearing, where a

crowd was gathering.

"I wonder he should have come," Wilberforce said: it was

Nelson himself, who had entered the clearing in the company

of several friends, some of them naval officers of

Laurence's acquaintance, and was presently paying his

respects to Lord Allendale. "Of course we did not omit an

invitation, but I had no real expectation; perhaps because

it was sent in your name. Forgive me, I will take myself

off awhile; I am happy enough to have him come and lend his

reflected glow to our party, but he has said too much in

public for me to converse easily with him."

Laurence was better pleased, for his own part, to find

Nelson not offended in the least at whatever whispers and

comparisons had been put about between them; that gentleman

was rather as amiable as anyone could wish, offering his

good hand. "William Laurence; you have gone a long way

since we last met. I think we were at dinner together on

the Vanguard in ninety-eight, before Aboukir Bay: how very

long ago, and how short a time it seems!"

"Indeed, sir; and I am honored your Grace should remember,"

Laurence said, and at his request rather anxiously took him

back to be presented to Temeraire, adding, when Temeraire's

ruff ominously unfurled at the name, "I hope you will make

his Grace most welcome, my dear; it is very kind of him to

come and be our guest."

Temeraire, never very tactful, was unfortunately not to be

warned by so subtle a hint, and rather coldly asked, "What

has happened to your medals? They are all quite misshapen."

This, he certainly meant as a species of insult; however

Nelson, who famously preferred only to win more glory, than

to speak of what he already had gained, could not have been

better pleased at the excuse to discuss the battle, told

over so thoroughly by the public before ever he had risen

from his injuries, with an audience for once innocent of

the details. "Why, a rascal of a Spanish fire-breather gave

us a little trouble, at Trafalgar, and they were caught in

the flame," he said, taking one of the ample number of

vacant chairs at the table nearby, and arranging bread

rolls for the ships.

Temeraire, growing interested despite himself, leaned in

closely to observe their maneuvers on the cloth. Nelson did

not flinch back in the least, though the onlookers who had

gathered to observe took nearly all of them several steps

back. He described the Spanish dragon's passes with a fork

and much lurid detail, and further rescued his character,

in Temeraire's eyes, by concluding, "And very sorry I am

that we did not have you there: I am sure you should have

had no trouble in running the creature off."

"Well, I am sure, too," Temeraire said candidly, and peered

at the medals again with more admiration. "But would the

Admiralty not give you fresh ones? That is not very

handsome of them."

"Why, I consider these a better badge of honor, dear

creature, and I have not applied for replacement," Nelson

said. "Now, Laurence, do I recall correctly; can I possibly

have read a report in the Gazette that this very dragon of

yours lately sank a French ship, called the Valérie, I

believe, and in a single pass?"

"Yes, sir; I believe Captain Riley of the Allegiance sent

in his report, last year," Laurence said uneasily; that

report had rather understated the incident, and while he

was proud of Temeraire's ability, it was not the sort of

thing he thought civilian guests would find reassuring;

still less so should any of them learn that the French,

too, now had their own Celestial, and that the same

dreadful power might be turned against their own shipping.

"Astonishing; quite prodigious," Nelson said. "What was

she, a sloop-of-war?"

"A frigate, sir," Laurence answered, even more reluctantly.

"-forty-eight guns."

There was a pause. "I cannot be sorry, although it was hard

on the poor sailors," Temeraire said, into the silence,

"but it was not very noble of them, stealing upon us during

the night, when their dragon could see in the dark and I

could not."

"Certainly," Nelson said, over a certain murmur from the

assembled company; he, having recovered from his surprise,

had rather a quick martial gleam in his eye, "certainly; I

congratulate you. I think I must have some conversation

with the Admiralty, Captain, on your present station; you

are on coastline duty at present, am I not correct? A

waste; an unconscionable waste; you may be sure they will

hear from me on the subject. Do you suppose he could manage

as much on a ship-of-the-line?"

Laurence could not explain the impossibility of a change in

their assignment without revealing the secret; so he

answered a little vaguely, with gratitude for his Grace's

interest.

"Very clever," Lord Allendale said grimly, in conference

with them and Wilberforce, when Nelson had gone away again,

nodding his farewells in the most affable manner to all who

sought his attention. "I suppose we must consider it a

badge of success that he should prefer to send you away."

"Sir, I believe you are mistaken; I cannot allow his

motives on this matter to be other than sincere, in wishing

the best use made of Temeraire's abilities," Laurence said

stiffly.

"It is very boring, always going up and down the coast,"

Temeraire put in, "and I should much rather have some more

interesting work, like fighting fire-breathers, if we were

not needed where we are; but I suppose we must do our

duty," he finished, not a trifle wistfully, and turned his

attention back to the other guests, who were all the more

eager to speak with him now in imitation of Nelson's

example: the party most assuredly a success.

"Laurence, may we fly over the quarantine-grounds, as we

go, and see how comes the pavilion?" Temeraire asked, the

next morning, as they made ready for the flight back to

Dover.

"It will not be very far advanced," Laurence said;

Temeraire's ulterior motive, to look into the quarantinegrounds to see Maximus and Lily, was tolerably transparent:

there had been no reply to the letters which Laurence had

sent, either to them or to their captains, and Temeraire

had begun to inquire after them with increasing impatience.

Laurence feared Temeraire's likely reaction to seeing them

so reduced by illness as he supposed them to be, but could

think of no very good reason with which to divert him.

"But I should like to see it in all its stages," Temeraire

said, "and if they have made any mistakes, we ought to

correct it early, surely," he finished triumphantly, with

the air of having hit upon an unanswerable justification.

"Is there any reason to fear infection in the air?"

Laurence asked Dorset quietly, aside. "Will there be a

danger to flying over the grounds?"

"No, so long as he keeps a good distance from any of the

sick beasts. It is certainly the phlegmatic humors which

carry the infection. So long as he does not put himself

directly in the way of a sneeze or a cough, I cannot think

the danger substantial, not aloft," Dorset said absently,

without much consideration to the question, which did not

fill Laurence with great confidence.

But he settled for extracting a promise that Temeraire

should stay well aloft, where perhaps he might not see the

worst of the ravages which had been inflicted on his

friends, nor approach any dragon in the air.

"Of course I promise," Temeraire said, adding,

unconvincingly, "I only want to see the pavilion, after

all; it is nothing to me if we see any other dragons."

"You must be sure, my dear, or Mr. Dorset will not

countenance our visit; we must not disturb the sick

dragons, who require their rest," Laurence said, resorting

to stratagem, which at last won Temeraire's sighs and

agreement.

Laurence did not truly expect to see any dragons aloft; the

ill beasts only rarely left the ground anymore, for the

brief showy patrols which Jane continued to use to keep up

their illusion of strength for the French. The day was

cloudy and drear, and as they flew towards the coast, they

met a thin misting of rain blowing in from the Channel; the

exertion surely would not be asked of the sick dragons.

The quarantine-grounds were inland of Dover itself, the

borders marked off by smoking torches and large red flags,

planted into the ground: low deserted rolling meadows, the

dragons scattered about with little cover even from the

wind, which snapped all the flags out crisply and made them

all huddle down small to escape. But as Temeraire drew near

the proscribed territory, Laurence saw three specks,

increasing rapidly into three dragons: aloft, and flying

energetically, two on the heels of a much smaller third.

Temeraire said, "Laurence, that is Auctoritas and

Caelifera, from Dover, I am sure of it, but I do not know

that other little dragon at all; I have never seen one of

that kind."

"Oh, Hell, that is a Plein-Vite," Ferris said, after a

single borrowed look through Laurence's glass. The three

dragons were directly over the quarantine-grounds, and the

great miserable hulks of other sick beasts were plainly

visible for the French dragon to see, even through the

mist, in all their bloodstained dirt. And already the two

dragons who had attempted to halt her were falling off the

pace and drooping earthwards, exhausted, as the tiny French

dragon darted and looped and evaded, beating her wings

mightily, and flung herself past the borders of the

grounds, heading towards the Channel as quick as ever she

could go.

"After her, Temeraire," Laurence said, and they leapt into

pursuit, Temeraire's enormous wings beating once to every

five of hers, but eating up the yards with every stroke.

"They haven't much endurance, they're close-couriers only,

for all they're fast as bloody lightning; they must have

brought her nearly up to the coast by boat, at night, to

save her strength for the flight back," Ferris said,

shouting over the knife-cut wind. Laurence only nodded, to

save his voice: Bonaparte had likely been hoping to slip so

small a messenger-beast through where the larger had not

been able to manage.

He raised the speaking-trumpet and bellowed, "Rendezvous,"

to no effect. The flare they fired off for emphasis,

launched ahead of the little dragon's nose, was a signal

less easily missed or misinterpreted, but there was no

slackening in the furious pace. The Plein-Vite had only a

small pilot, a young boy scarcely much older than Roland or

Dyer, whose pale and frightened face Laurence could plainly

see in his glass as the boy looked back to see the vast

black-winged pursuit ready to engulf him. He turned back to

speak encouragement to his beast, casting off bits of

harness and buckle as she flew: the boy even kicked off his

shoes, and threw overboard his belt with its sword and

pistol, flashing in the sunlight as they turned end-overend, surely prized treasures; and heartened by her rider's

example, with an effort the little dragon began to speed

her strokes and pull away, her advantage in speed and small

breadth before the wind telling.

"We must bring her down," Laurence said grimly, lowering

his glass; he had seen what effect the divine wind had on

enemy dragons of fighting-weight, and on soldiers under

arms: what damage it might wreak, upon so small and

helpless a target, he neither liked to think nor wished to

witness, but their duty was plain. "Temeraire, you must

stop them; we cannot let them slip away."

"Laurence, she is so very little," Temeraire objected

unhappily, turning his head only just enough to be heard;

he was still pressing on after her, with all the will in

the world, but she would not be caught.

"We cannot try to board her," Laurence answered, "she is

too small and too quick; it would be a death-sentence to

make any man attempt that leap. If she will not surrender,

she must be brought down. She is pulling away; it must be

now."

BOOK: Empire of Ivory
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