Empire of Ivory (33 page)

mid-thigh.

They did not move to attack, and when Hobbes turned and

beckoned, Reverend Erasmus climbed out of the cave, and

gave his wife his hand to assist her. They joined the

lieutenants, and Mrs. Erasmus began speaking, slowly and

clearly: she had taken a mushroom from the cave, and held

it out to them to show. The red-brown dragon stooped

suddenly, its head bending towards her, and spoke; she

looked directly up at him, startled but not visibly afraid,

and it jerked its head back with an ugly, squawking cry:

not a roar or a growl, wholly unlike any sound Laurence had

ever heard from a dragon's throat.

One of the men reached out and catching her by the arm drew

her towards him. His other hand pressed her forehead

backwards, bending her neck in an awkward exposed curve,

and his hand pushed her hair away from her face, where the

scar and the tattoo marred her forehead.

Erasmus sprang forward, and Hobbes on his other side, to

pull her free. The man let her go, without resistance, and

took a step towards Erasmus, speaking low and rapidly,

pointing at her. Ferris caught her in his arms as she fell

back shaking, supporting her.

Erasmus spread his hands, placating, continuing to speak

even while he carefully sought to interpose himself before

her. He was plainly not understood; he shook his head and

tried again, in the Khoi language. This was not understood,

either; at last he tried another, haltingly, and tapping

his own chest said, "Lunda." The dragon snarled, and with

no other warning, the man took up his spear and drove it

directly through Erasmus's body, in one unbroken and

terrible motion.

Hobbes fired; the man fell; Erasmus also went toppling to

his knees. He had an expression of only mild surprise on

his face; his hand was on the spear-haft, protruding from

just above his breastbone. Mrs. Erasmus gave a single

hoarse cry of horror; he turned his head a little in her

direction, tried to lift his hand towards her; it fell,

limply, and he dropped to the ground.

Ferris half-carried, half-dragged Mrs. Erasmus back towards

the cave, the red-brown dragon lunging after them; Hobbes

went down in spraying blood under that raking claw. Then

Ferris was pushing Mrs. Erasmus into the cavern, backing

her into their waiting arms just as the dragon flung itself

at the entrance again: roaring at a wild, shrieking pitch,

its talons scrabbling madly at the opening and shaking all

the hollow hill.

Laurence caught Ferris by the arm as he fell stumbling

backwards from the impact, blood in a thin streak crossing

his shirt and face. Harcourt and Warren had Mrs. Erasmus.

"Mr. Riggs," Laurence shouted, over the rattling din

outside, "a little fire; and Mr. Calloway, let us have

those flares, if you please."

They gave the dragon another volley and a blue light,

straight into the face, which at least made it recoil

momentarily; the two smaller dragons leapt into the breach

and made an effort to herd the larger one back from the

cavern, speaking to it in shrill voices, and at last it

drew away again, its sides heaving, and dropped back into

its crouch at the far end of the clearing.

"Mr. Turner, do you have the time?" Laurence asked his

signal-officer, coughing: the clouds from the flare were

not dying away.

"I'm sorry, sir, I forgot to turn the glass for a while,"

the ensign said unhappily "but it is past four in the

afternoon watch."

Temeraire and Lily had not left until past one: a fourhours' flight in either direction, and a great deal of

labor and packing to be done in Capetown, before they would

even begin the return journey. "We must try and get a

little sleep by watches," Laurence said quietly to Harcourt

and Warren; Dorset had taken charge of Mrs. Erasmus and

guided her deeper into the cave. "We can hold them at the

fissure, I think, but we must stay vigilant-"

"Sir," Emily Roland said, "beg pardon, sir, but Mr. Dorset

says to tell you, there is smoke coming into the cave, from

the back."

A narrow vent, at the back, higher up than they could

reach: propped up on Mr. Pratt's broad shoulder, Laurence

could see, through the thin stream of black smoke, the

orange glow of the fire which the men had set to smoke them

out. He dropped back to his own feet and cleared out of the

way: Fellowes and Larring, Harcourt's ground-crew master,

were trying together with their men to block the vent with

scraps of harness and leather, using their own coats and

shirts besides. They were having little success, and time

worked against them; already the cavern was nearly

unbreathable, and the rising heat only worsened the natural

stench.

"We cannot last long this way," Catherine said, hoarse but

steady, when Laurence had come back to the front of the

cave. "I think we had better make a dash for it, while we

still can, and try and lose them in the forest."

Outside the entrance, the thorny brush which they had torn

up to make their camp was now being heaped up closer by the

dragons, forming stacks higher than a man's head all around

the cavern-mouth, and the dragons had arranged themselves

carefully behind this barrier: screened from rifle-fire,

and blocking their avenues of escape. There would be

precious little hope of breaking through; but no better

alternative would offer itself.

"My crew is the largest," Laurence said, "and we have eight

rifles. I hope you will all agree we should make the first

attempt, and the rest of you come upon our heels: Mr.

Dorset, perhaps you will be so kind as to wait with Mrs.

Erasmus until we have cleared a little way, and I am sure

Mr. Pratt will assist you," he added.

The order of emergence was settled upon, in haste; they

agreed upon a rendezvous point in the woods, consulting

their compasses. Laurence felt his neckcloth, to be sure it

was tied, and shrugged back into his coat in the dark,

adjusting the gold bars upon his shoulders; his hat was

gone. "Warren, Chenery; your servant, Harcourt," he said,

shaking their hands. Ferris and Riggs were crouched by the

opening, ready; his own pistols were loaded. "Gentlemen,"

he said, and drawing his sword went through the cavern

exit, a roar of God and King George behind him.

Chapter 10

LAURENCE STUMBLED AS the rough hands dragged him up; his

legs would not answer, and when he was flung forward they

crumpled at once, casting him full-length on the ground,

beside the other prisoners. They were being flung roughly

into a rig much like their own belly-netting, but of

coarser rope and designed less for passengers than for

baggage. In a few sharp jerks, they were hauled up and

slung below the red-brown dragon's belly, their arms and

legs left to dangle through the large haphazardly knotted

gaps, and their bodies crammed in one atop another. The

netting was loose, and swung in great sickening curves with

every shift in the wind or direction, every sudden diving

movement.

There was no guard set to watch them, nor any personal

restraint, but they were thoroughly immobilized regardless,

and had no opportunity to shift their positions or

converse. He was low in the netting, with his face pressed

directly into the raw cords, which scraped him now and

again; but he was grateful for the air despite the thin

ribbons of blood which came dripping past him, and the

wider arc of swinging. Dyer was pushed up against his side;

Laurence had his arm around the boy, to keep him in: the

netting was uneven, and the cords moving might have easily

let him slip through to plunge to his death.

The wounded had been thrown in with the whole. A young

midwingman from Chenery's crew, badly clawed, lay with his

jaw pressed against Laurence's arm, blood seeping slowly

from the corner of his mouth and soaking through the cloth.

Some time during the night he died, and his corpse

stiffened slowly as they flew on. Laurence could

distinguish no-one else around him, only the anonymous

pressure of a boot in the small of his back, a knee jammed

up against his own, so that his leg was bent back upon

itself.

He had glimpsed Mrs. Erasmus only briefly, in the dreadful

confusion of their taking, as the nets were flung down upon

them from the trees; she had certainly been dragged away

alive. He did not wish to think on it; he could do little

else, and Catherine's fate weighed on him heavily.

They did not stop. He slept, or at least passed into a

state more distant from the world than wakefulness, the

wind passing over his face in gusts, the rocking of the

netting not wholly unlike the querulous motion of a ship

riding at anchor in a choppy cross-sea. A little while

after dawn, the dragon brought up sharp, cupping the wind

in its wings as it descended, bird-like, and came to the

ground jarringly, skipping a few steps along the earth

before dropping onto its forelegs.

The netting was cut loose, roughly, and they were picked

over quickly and efficiently, the men prodding them with

the butt ends of their spears and heaving away the corpses.

Laurence could not have risen to his legs with all the

liberty in the world to do so, his knee afire with

returning blood, but he raised his head, and saw Catherine

lying a little way distant: flat upon her back, pale and

her eyes shut, with blood on the side of her face. There

were two bloody rents in her coat also, near the arm, but

she had kept it, and buttoned; her hair was still tightly

plaited, and there was no sign she had been distinguished.

No time for anything more: a little water was splashed in

their faces, and the netting folded back over their heads;

the dragon stepped over them and they were hoisted back up

with quick, jerking pulls. Away again. The motion was worse

in daylight, and they were a lighter load now, swaying more

easily with the wind and every slight change of direction;

the Corps was a service that hardened the stomach, but even

so filth trickled down now through the press of bodies, the

sour smell of bile. Laurence breathed through his mouth so

far as he could, and turned his face to the ropes when he

himself had to vomit.

There was no more sleep, until at last with the sun they

descended again, and this time at last they were taken out

from the netting one and two at a time, weak and ill, and

lashed together at wrists, upper arms, and ankles, into a

human chain. They were fixed to a pair of trees at either

end, and their captors came around with water in dripping

leather bags, fresh and delicious, the spout dragged too

soon away from their seeking mouths; Laurence held the last

swallow on his parched tongue as long as he could.

He leaned forward and glanced down the line: he did not see

Warren at all, but Harcourt looked up at him, a quick nod;

Ferris and Riggs looked as well as could be expected, and

Roland was tied on at the very end, her head drooping

against the tree to which she was fastened. Chenery was

tied the other side of Dyer from him; his head was tipped

awkwardly onto his own shoulder, his mouth hung open in

exhaustion; he had a great purpling bruise all across his

face, and he had his hand clenched upon his thigh, as

though the older wound pained him.

They were near the banks of a river, Laurence gradually

became aware, hearing the slow soft gurgling of the water

behind him though he could not turn about to look, a

torment when they were all still thirsty. They were in a

matted grassy clearing; sending his eyes to the side he

could see a border of large stones encircling the flattened

grounds, and a fire-pit blackened with use: a hunting camp,

perhaps, used regularly; the men were walking around the

boundary, tearing up the greenery which had sent

encroaching tendrils into the clearing.

The great red-brown beast settled itself at the far side of

the fire-pit, and closing its eyes down to slits went to

sleep; the other two took wing again: a mottled green, and

a dark brown creature, both with pale grey underbellies

gilded with a kind of iridescence, which quickly made them

melt into the deepening sky above on their leap.

A long-legged plover wandered through the clearing, picking

at the ground for seeds and chirping, a high metallic sound

like a small bell struck with a hammer. In a little while

the smaller dragons returned, carrying the limp bodies of

several antelope; two of these were respectfully deposited

before the red-brown dragon, who tore into them with

appetite; another they shared amongst themselves; and the

last was given to the men, butchered quickly, and put into

a large cauldron already steaming.

Their captors were quiet over their dinner, clustering to