The Temeraire Series Books 1-3: Temeraire, Throne of Jade, Black Powder War

They stood watching from the ledge, and Laurence saw their eager faces until Temeraire came around the castle and they passed out of sight. Once at the lake, he let Temeraire swim around to clean off the worst of the gore, then wiped him down with particular care. It was appalling to a man raised to careful grooming of horses and daily holystoning of the deck that aviators should leave their beasts to keep themselves clean, and as he rubbed down the sleek black sides, he considered suddenly the harness. ‘Temeraire, does this chafe you at all?’ he asked, touching the straps.

‘Oh, not very often now,’ Temeraire said, turning his head to look. ‘My hide is getting a great deal tougher; and when it does bother me I can shift it a little, and then it is better straightaway.’

‘My dear, I am covered with shame,’ Laurence said. ‘I ought never have kept you in it; from now on you shall not wear it for an instant while it is not necessary for our flying together.’

‘But is it not required, like your clothing?’ Temeraire said. ‘I would not like anyone to think I was not civilized.’

‘I shall get you a larger chain to wear about your neck, and that will serve,’ Laurence said, thinking of the golden collar Celeritas wore. ‘I am not going to have you suffering for a custom that so far as I can tell is nothing but laziness; and I am of a mind to complain of it in the strongest terms to the next admiral I see.’

He was as good as his word and stripped the harness from Temeraire the moment they landed in the courtyard. Temeraire looked a little nervously at the other dragons, who had been watching with interest from the moment the two of them had returned with Temeraire still dripping from the lake. But none of them seemed shocked, only curious, and once Laurence had detached the gold-and-pearl chain and wrapped it around one of Temeraire’s talons, rather like a ring, Temeraire relaxed entirely and settled back down on the warm flagstones. ‘It is more pleasant not to have it on; I had not realized how it would be,’ he confided quietly to Laurence, and scratched at a darkened spot on his hide where a buckle had rested and crushed together several scales into a callus.

Laurence paused in cleaning the harness and stroked him in apology. ‘I do beg your forgiveness,’ he said, looking at the galled spot with remorse. ‘I will try and find a poultice for these marks.’

‘I want mine off too,’ chirped one of the Winchesters suddenly, and flitted down from Maximus’s back to land in front of Laurence. ‘Will you, please?’

Laurence hesitated; it did not seem right to him to handle another man’s beast. ‘I think perhaps your own handler is the only one who ought to remove it,’ he said. ‘I do not like to give offence.’

‘He has not come for three days,’ the Winchester said sadly, his small head drooping; he was only about the size of a couple of draft horses, and his shoulder barely topped Laurence’s head. Looking more closely, Laurence could see his hide was marked with streaks of dried blood, and the harness did not look particularly clean or well-kept, unlike those of the other dragons; it bore stains and rough patches.

‘Come here, and let me have a look at you,’ Laurence said quietly, as he took up the linens, still wet from the lake, and began to clean the little dragon.

‘Oh, thank you,’ the Winchester said, leaning happily into the cloth. ‘My name is Levitas,’ he added, shyly.

‘I am Laurence, and this is Temeraire,’ Laurence said.

‘Laurence is my captain,’ Temeraire said, the smallest hint of belligerence in his tone, and an emphasis on the possessive; Laurence looked up at him in surprise, and paused in his cleaning to pat Temeraire’s side. Temeraire subsided, but watched with his pupils narrowed to thin slits while Laurence finished.

‘Shall I see if I cannot find what has happened to your handler?’ he told Levitas with a final pat. ‘Perhaps he is not feeling well, but if so I am sure he will be well soon.’

‘Oh, I do not think he is sick,’ Levitas said, with that same sadness. ‘But that feels much better already,’ he added, and rubbed his head gratefully against Laurence’s shoulder.

Temeraire gave a low displeased rumble and flexed his talons against the stone; with an alarmed chirp, Levitas flew straightaway up to Maximus’s back and nestled down small against the other Winchester again. Laurence turned to Temeraire. ‘Come now, what is this jealousy?’ he said softly. ‘Surely you cannot begrudge him a little cleaning when his handler is neglecting him.’

‘You are mine,’ Temeraire said obstinately. After a moment, however, he ducked his head in a shamefaced way and added in a smaller voice, ‘He would be easier to clean.’

‘I would not give up an inch of your hide were you twice Laetificat’s size,’ Laurence said. ‘But perhaps I will see if some of the boys would like to wash him, tomorrow.’

‘Oh, that would be good,’ Temeraire said, brightening. ‘I do not quite understand why his handler has not come; you would never stay away so long, would you?’

‘Never in life, unless I was kept away by force,’ Laurence said. He did not understand it himself; he could imagine that a man harnessed to a dim beast would not necessarily find the creature’s company satisfying intellectually, but at the least he would have expected the easy affection with which he had seen James treat Volatilus. And though even smaller, Levitas was certainly more intelligent than Volly. Perhaps it was not so strange that there would be less-dedicated men among aviators as well as in any other branch of the service, but with the shortage of dragons, it seemed a great pity to see one of them reduced to unhappiness, which could not help but affect the creature’s performance.

Laurence carried Temeraire’s harness with him out of the castle yard and over to the large sheds where the ground crews worked; though it was late in the day, there were several men still sitting out in front, smoking comfortably. They looked at him curiously, not saluting, but not unfriendly either. ‘Ah, you’d be Temeraire’s,’ one of them said, reaching out to take the harness. ‘Has it broken? We’ll be having a proper harness ready for you in a few days, but we can patch it up in the meantime.’

‘No, it merely needs cleaning,’ Laurence said.

‘You haven’t a harness-tender yet; we can’t be assigning you your ground crew ’til we know how he’s to be trained,’ the man said. ‘But we’ll see to it; Hollin, give this a rub, would you?’ he called, catching the attention of a younger man who was working on a bit of leatherwork inside.

Hollin came out, wiping grease off onto his apron, and took the harness in big, capable-looking hands. ‘Right you are; will he give me any trouble, putting it back on him after?’ he asked.

‘That will not be necessary, thank you; he is more comfortable without it, so merely leave it beside him,’ Laurence said firmly, ignoring the looks this won him. ‘And Levitas’s harness requires attention as well.’

‘Levitas? Well now, I’d say that’s for his captain to speak to his crew about,’ the first man said, sucking on his pipe thoughtfully.

That was perfectly true; nevertheless, it was a poor-spirited answer. Laurence gave the man a cold, steady look, and let silence speak for him. The men shifted a little uncomfortably under his glare. He said, very softly, ‘If they need to be rebuked to do their duty, then it must be arranged; I would not have thought any man in the Corps would need to hear anything but that a dragon’s wellbeing was at risk to seek to amend the situation.’

‘I’ll do it along of dropping off Temeraire’s,’ Hollin said hurriedly, ‘I don’t mind; he’s so small it won’t take me but a few shakes.’

‘Thank you, Mr. Hollin; I am glad to see I was not mistaken,’ Laurence said, and turned back to the castle; he heard the murmur behind him of, ‘Regular Tartar, he is; wouldn’t fancy being on his crew.’ It was not a pleasant thing to hear, at all; he had never been considered a hard captain, and he had always prided himself on ruling his men by respect rather than fear or a heavy hand; many of his crew had been volunteers.

He was conscious, too, of guilt: by speaking so strongly, he had indeed gone over the head of Levitas’s captain, and the man would have every right to complain. But Laurence could not quite bring himself to regret it; Levitas was clearly neglected, and it in no way fit his sense of duty to leave the creature in discomfort. The informality of the Corps might for once be of service to him; with any luck the hint might not be taken as direct interference, or as truly outrageous as it would have been in the Navy.

It had not been an auspicious first day; he was both weary and discouraged. There had been nothing truly unacceptable as he had feared, nothing so bad he could not bear it, but also nothing easy or familiar. He could not help but long for the comforting strictures of the Navy which had encompassed all his life, and wish impractically that he and Temeraire might be once again on the deck of the Reliant, with all the wide ocean around them.

Chapter Six (#ulink_279b0148-b3c2-56a4-9b9d-1d779458a489)

The sun woke him, streaming in through the eastern windows. The forgotten cold plate had been waiting for him the night before when he had finally climbed back up to his room, Tolly evidently being as good as his word. A couple of flies had settled on the food, but that was nothing to a seaman; Laurence had waved them off and devoured it to the crumbs. He had meant only to rest a while before supper and a bath; now he blinked stupidly up at the ceiling for the better part of a minute before getting his bearings.

Then he remembered the training; he scrambled up at once. He had slept in his shirt and breeches, but fortunately he had a second of each, and his coat was reasonably fresh. He would have to remember to find a tailor locally where he could order another. It was a bit of a struggle to get into it alone, but he managed, and felt himself in good order when at last he descended.

The senior officers’ table was nearly empty. Granby was not there, but Laurence felt the effect of his presence in the sideways glances the two young men sitting together at the lower end of the table gave him. Nearer the head of the room, a big, thickset man with a florid face and no coat on was eating steadily through a heaped plate of eggs and black pudding and bacon; Laurence looked around uncertainly for a sideboard.

‘Morning, Captain; coffee or tea?’ Tolly was at his elbow, holding two pots.

‘Coffee, thank you,’ Laurence said, gratefully; he had the cup drained and held out for more before the man even turned away. ‘Do we serve ourselves?’ he asked.

‘No, here comes Lacey with eggs and bacon for you; just mention if you like something else,’ Tolly said, already moving on.

The maidservant was wearing coarse homespun, and she said, ‘Good morning!’ cheerfully instead of staying silent, but it was so pleasant to see a friendly face that Laurence found himself returning the greeting. The plate she was carrying was so hot it steamed, and he had not a fig to give for propriety once he had tasted the splendid bacon: cured with some unfamiliar smoke, and full of flavour, and the yolks of his eggs almost bright orange. He ate quickly, with an eye on the squares of light travelling across the floor where the sun struck through the high windows.

‘Don’t choke,’ said the thickset man, eyeing him. ‘Tolly, more tea,’ he bellowed; his voice was loud enough to carry through a storm. ‘You Laurence?’ he demanded, as his cup was refilled.

Laurence finished swallowing and said, ‘Yes, sir; you have the advantage of me.’

‘Berkley,’ the man said. ‘Look here, what sort of nonsense have you been filling your dragon’s head with? My Maximus has been muttering all morning about wanting a bath, and his harness removed; absurd stuff.’

‘I do not find it so, sir, to be concerned with the comfort of my dragon,’ Laurence said quietly, his hands tightening on the cutlery.

Berkley glared straight back at him. ‘Why damn you, are you suggesting I neglect Maximus? No one has ever washed dragons; they don’t mind a little dirt, they have hide.’

Laurence reined in his temper and his voice; his appetite was gone, however, and he set down knife and fork. ‘Evidently your dragon disagrees; do you suppose yourself a better judge than he of what gives him discomfort?’

Berkley scowled at him fiercely, then abruptly he snorted. ‘Well, you are a firebreather, make no mistake; and here I thought you Navy fellows were all so stiff and cautious-like.’ He drained his teacup and stood up from the table. ‘I will be seeing you later; Celeritas wants to pace Maximus and Temeraire out together.’ He nodded, apparently in all friendliness, and left.

Laurence was a little dazed by this abrupt reversal; then he realized he was near to being late, and he had no more time to think over the incident. Temeraire was waiting impatiently, and now Laurence found himself paying for his virtue, as the harness had to be put back on; even with the help of two grounds crewmen he called over, they barely reached the courtyard in time.

Celeritas was not yet in the courtyard as they landed, but only a short while after their arrival, Laurence saw the training master emerge from one of the openings carved into the cliff wall: evidently these were private quarters, perhaps for older or more honoured dragons. Celeritas shook out his wings and flew over to the courtyard, landing neatly on his rear legs, and he looked Temeraire over thoroughly. ‘Hmm, yes, excellent depth of chest. Inhale, please. Yes, yes.’ He sat back down on all fours. ‘Now then. Let us have a look at you. Two full circuits of the valley, first circuit horizontal turns, then backwing on the second. Go at an easy pace, I wish to assess your conformation, not your speed.’ He made a nudging gesture with his head.

Temeraire leaped back aloft at full speed. ‘Gently,’ Laurence called, tugging at the reins to remind him, and Temeraire slowed reluctantly to a more moderate pace. He soared easily through the turns, and then the loops; Celeritas called out, ‘Now again, at speed,’ as they came back around. Laurence bent low to Temeraire’s neck as the wings beat with great frantic thrusts about him, and the wind whistled at a high pitch past his ears. It was faster than they had ever gone before, and as exhilarating; he could not resist, and gave a small whoop for Temeraire’s ears only as they went racing into the turn.