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

Afterwards, having said his goodnights in the cabin, Laurence walked a little unsteadily back towards the stern, where Temeraire lay in solitary splendour, the crew having mostly abandoned that part of the deck to him as he had grown. He opened a gleaming eye as Laurence approached and lifted a wing in invitation. Laurence was a little surprised at the gesture, but he took up his pallet and ducked under into the comfortable warmth. He unrolled the pallet and sat down upon it, leaning back against the dragon’s side, and Temeraire lowered the wing again, making a warm sheltered space around him.

‘Do you think I will be able to breathe fire or spit poison?’ Temeraire asked. ‘I am not sure how I could tell; I tried, but I only blew air.’

‘Did you hear us talking?’ Laurence asked, startled; the stern windows had been open, and the conversation might well have been audible on deck, but somehow it had not occurred to him that Temeraire might listen.

‘Yes,’ Temeraire said. ‘The part about the battle was very exciting. Have you been in many of them?’

‘Oh, I suppose so,’ Laurence said. ‘Not more than many other fellows.’ This was not entirely true; he had an unusually large number of actions to his credit, which had seen him to the post-list at a relatively young age, and he was accounted a fighting-captain. ‘But that is how we found you, when you were in the egg; you were aboard the prize when we took her,’ he added, indicating the Amitié, her stern lanterns presently visible two points to larboard.

Temeraire looked out at her with interest. ‘You won me in a battle? I did not know that.’ He sounded pleased by the information. ‘Will we be in another one soon? I would like to see. I am sure I could help, even if I cannot breathe fire yet.’

Laurence smiled at his enthusiasm; dragons notoriously had a great deal of fighting spirit, part of what made them so valuable in war. ‘Most likely not before we put into port, but I dare say we will see enough of them after; England does not have many dragons, so we will most likely be called on a great deal, once you are grown,’ he said.

He looked up at Temeraire’s head, presently raised up to gaze out to sea. Relieved of the pressing concern of feeding him, Laurence could give thought now to the other meaning of all that strength behind his back. Temeraire was already larger than some full-grown dragons of other breeds, and, in his inexperienced judgment, very fast. He would indeed be invaluable to the Corps and to England, fire-breath or no. It was not without pride that he thought to himself there was no fear Temeraire would ever prove shy; if he had a difficult duty ahead of him, he could hardly have asked for a worthier partner.

‘Will you tell me some more of the battle of the Nile?’ Temeraire said, looking down. ‘Was it just your ship and the other one, and the dragon?’

‘Lord no, there were thirteen ships of the line for our side, with eight dragons from the Third Division of the Aerial Corps in support, and another four dragons from the Turks,’ Laurence said. ‘The French had seventeen and fourteen for their part, so we were outnumbered, but Admiral Nelson’s strategy left them wholly taken aback,’ and as he continued, Temeraire lowered his head and curled more closely about him, listening with his great eyes shining in the darkness, and so they talked quietly together, long into the night.

Chapter Three (#ulink_3fdc47b7-4af4-5acc-858e-d7e588dc1ba8)

They arrived at Funchal a day short of Laurence’s original three-week estimate, having been sped along their way by the gale, with Temeraire sitting up in the stern and eagerly watching from the moment the island had come into view. He caused something of an immediate sensation on land, dragons not ordinarily to be seen riding into harbour upon small frigates, and there was a small crowd of spectators gathered upon the docks as they came into port, although by no means coming very close to the vessel.

Admiral Croft’s flagship was in port; the Reliant was nominally sailing under his command, and Riley and Laurence had privately agreed that the two of them should report together to acquaint him with the unusual situation. The signal Captain report aboard flag went up on the Commendable almost the instant they had dropped anchor, and Laurence paused for only a moment to speak with Temeraire. ‘You must remain aboard until I return, remember,’ he said, anxiously, for while Temeraire was never wilfully disobliging, he was easily distracted by anything new and of interest, and Laurence did not have a great deal of confidence in his restraint while surrounded by so much of a new world to explore. ‘I promise you we shall fly over the whole island when I come back; you shall see all you like, and in the meantime Mr. Wells will bring you a nice fresh veal and some lamb, which you have never had.’

Temeraire sighed a little, but inclined his head. ‘Very well, but do hurry,’ he said. ‘I would like to go up to those mountains. And I could just eat those,’ he added, looking at a team of carriage horses standing nearby; the horses stamped nervously as though they had heard and understood perfectly well.

‘Oh, no, Temeraire, you cannot just eat anything you see on the streets,’ Laurence said in alarm. ‘Wells will bring you something straightaway.’ Turning, he caught the third lieutenant’s eye, and conveyed the urgency of the situation; then with a final dubious glance, he went down the gangplank and joined Riley.

Admiral Croft was waiting for them impatiently; he had evidently heard something of the fuss. He was a tall man and a striking one, the more so for a raking scar across his face and the false hand which was attached to the stump of his left arm, its iron fingers operated by springs and catches. He had lost the limb shortly before his promotion to flag rank, and since had put on a great deal of weight; he did not rise when they came into his stateroom, but only scowled a little and waved them to chairs. ‘Very well, Laurence, explain yourself; I suppose this has something to do with the feral you have down there?’

‘Sir, that is Temeraire; he is not feral,’ Laurence said. ‘We took a French ship, the Amitié, three weeks ago yesterday; we found his egg in their hold. Our surgeon had some knowledge of dragon kind; he warned us that it would hatch shortly, and so we were able to arrange – that is to say, I harnessed him.’

Croft sat up abruptly and squinted at Laurence, then at Riley, only then taking notice of the change in uniform. ‘What, yourself? And so you – Good Lord, why didn’t you put one of your midshipmen to the thing?’ he demanded. ‘This is taking duty a little far, Laurence; a fine thing when a naval officer chooses to jump ship for the Corps.’

‘Sir, my officers and I drew lots,’ Laurence said, suppressing a flare of indignation; he had not desired to be lauded for his sacrifice, but it was a little much to be upbraided for it. ‘I hope no one would ever question my devotion to the service; I felt it only fair to them that I should share the risk, and in the event, though I did not draw the lot, there was no avoiding it; he took a liking to me, and we could not risk him refusing the harness from another hand.’

‘Oh, hell,’ Croft said, and relapsed into his chair with a sullen expression, tapping the fingers of his right hand against the metal palm of the left; a nervous gesture, and sat silently except for the small clinking noise which his fingernails made upon the iron. The minutes dragged, while Laurence alternated between imagining a thousand disasters which Temeraire might precipitate in his absence, and worrying what Croft might do to the Reliant and Riley.

At last Croft started, as if waking up, and waved his good hand. ‘Well, there must be some sort of bounty; they can hardly give less for a harnessed creature than a feral one, after all,’ he said. ‘The French frigate, a man of war, I suppose, no merchantman? Well, she looks likely enough, I am sure she will be bought into the service,’ he added, good humour apparently restored, and Laurence realized with mingled relief and irritation that the man had only been calculating his admiral’s share in his head.

‘Indeed, sir, she is a very trim craft; thirty-six guns,’ he said politely, keeping several other things which he might have said to himself; he would never have to report to this man again, but Riley’s future still hung in the balance.

‘Hm. You have done as you ought, Laurence, I am sure; though it is a pity to lose you. I suppose you shall like to be an aviator,’ Croft said, in tones that made it quite plain he supposed no such thing. ‘We have no division of the Corps locally, though; even the dispatch-carrier only comes through once a week. You will have to take him to Gibraltar, I imagine.’

‘Yes, sir, though the trip must wait until he has more growth; he can stay aloft for an hour or so without much trouble, but I do not like to risk him on a long flight just yet,’ Laurence said firmly. ‘And in the meantime, he must be fed; we have only managed to get by so long with fishing, but of course he cannot hunt here.’

‘Well, Laurence, that is no lookout of the Navy’s, I am sure,’ Croft said, but before Laurence could be really taken aback by this petty remark, the man seemed to realize how ill it sounded, and amended his words. ‘However, I will speak to the governor; I am sure we can arrange something. Now, then, the Reliant, and of course the Amitié, we must take some thought for them.’

‘I should like to point out that Mr. Riley has been in command of the Reliant since the harnessing, and that he has handled her exceptionally well, bringing her safely to port through a two-days’ gale,’ Laurence said. ‘He fought very bravely in the action which won us the prize, as well.’

‘Oh, I am sure, I am sure,’ Croft said, turning his finger in circles again. ‘Who do you have in the Amitié?’

‘My first lieutenant, Gibbs,’ Laurence said.

‘Yes, of course,’ Croft said. ‘Well, it is a bit much of you to hope to make both your first and second lieutenants post in such a way, Laurence, you must see that. There are not so many fine frigates out there.’

Laurence had great difficulty in keeping his countenance; the man was clearly looking for some excuse to give himself a plum to deal out to one of his own favourites. ‘Sir,’ he said, icily, ‘I do not quite take your meaning; I hope you are not suggesting that I had myself put in harness in order to open a vacancy. I assure you my only motive was to secure to England a very valuable dragon, and I would hope that their Lordships will see it in such a way.’

It was as close as he would come to harping on his own sacrifice, and a good deal closer than he would have preferred to come, without Riley’s welfare at stake. But it had its effect; Croft seemed struck by the reminder, and the mention of the Admiralty; at least he hemmed and hawed and retreated, and dismissed them without saying anything final about removing Riley from command.

‘Sir, I am deeply indebted to you,’ Riley said, as they walked together back towards the ship. ‘I only hope you will not have caused difficulties for yourself by pressing the matter so; I suppose he must have a great deal of influence.’

Laurence at the moment had little room for any emotion but relief, for they had come to their own dock, and Temeraire was still sitting on the deck of the ship; although that looked more like an abattoir at the moment, and the area around his chops more red than black. The crowd of spectators had entirely dispersed. ‘If there is any blessing to the whole business, Tom, it is that I no longer need to give much thought to influence; I do not suppose it can make any difference to an aviator,’ he answered. ‘Pray have no concern for me. Should you mind if we were to walk a little faster? I think he has finished eating.’

Flying did a great deal more to soothe his ruffled temper; it was impossible to be angry with the whole island of Madeira spread out before him and the wind in his hair, and Temeraire excitedly pointing out new things of interest, such as animals, houses, carts, trees, rocks, and anything else which might catch his eye; he had lately worked out a method of flying with his head partly turned round, so that he might talk to Laurence even while they flew. By mutual agreement, he perched at last upon an empty road that ran along at the edge of a deep valley; a bank of clouds was rolling thickly down the green southern slopes, clinging to the ground in a peculiar way, and he sat to watch their movement in fascination.

Laurence dismounted; he was still growing used to riding and was glad to stretch his legs after an hour in the air. He walked about for a while now, enjoying the view, and thought to himself that the next morning he would bring something to eat and drink on their flight; he would rather have liked a sandwich, and a glass of wine.

‘I would like another one of those lambs,’ Temeraire said, echoing his own thoughts. ‘They were very tasty. Can I eat those over there? They look even larger.’

There was a handsome flock of sheep grazing placidly on the far side of the valley, white against the green. ‘No, Temeraire; those are sheep, mutton,’ Laurence said. ‘They are not as good, and I think they must be someone’s property, so we cannot go snatching them. But perhaps I will see if I cannot arrange for the shepherd to set one aside for you for tomorrow, if you would like to come back here.’

‘It seems very strange that the ocean is full of things that one can eat as one likes, and on land everything seems to be spoken for,’ Temeraire said, disappointed. ‘It does not seem quite right; they are not eating those sheep themselves, after all, and I am hungry now.’

‘Oh Lord, Temeraire, don’t talk that way, or I suppose I shall be arrested for teaching you seditious thinking,’ Laurence said, amused. ‘It sounds positively revolutionary. Only think, perhaps the fellow who owns those is the same one we will ask to give us a nice lamb for your dinner tonight; he will hardly do so if we steal his sheep now.’

‘I would rather have a nice lamb now,’ Temeraire muttered, but he did not go after one of the sheep, and instead returned to examining the clouds. ‘May we go over to those clouds? I would like to see why they are moving like that.’

Laurence looked at the shrouded hillside dubiously, but he more and more disliked telling the dragon no when he did not have to; it was so often necessary. ‘We may try it if you like,’ he said, ‘but it seems a little risky; we could easily run up against the mountainside and be brought by the lee.’

‘Oh, I will land below them, and then we may walk up,’ Temeraire said, crouching low and putting his neck to the ground so Laurence could scramble back aboard. ‘That will be more interesting in any case.’

It was a little odd to go walking with a dragon, and very odd to outdistance one; Temeraire might take one step to every ten paces of Laurence’s, but he took them very rarely, being more occupied in looking back and forth to compare the degree of cloud cover upon the ground. Laurence finally walked some distance ahead and threw himself down upon the slope to wait; even under the heavy fog, he was comfortable, thanks to the heavy clothing and oilskin cloak which he had learned from experience to wear while flying.

Temeraire continued to creep very slowly up the hill, interrupting his studies of the clouds now and again to look at a flower, or a pebble; to Laurence’s surprise, he paused at one point and dug a small rock out of the ground, which he then brought up to Laurence with apparent excitement, pushing it along with the tip of a talon, as it was too small for him to pick up in his claws.

Laurence hefted the thing, which was about the size of his fist; it certainly was curious-looking, pyrite intergrown with quartz crystal and rock. ‘How did you come to see it?’ he said, with interest, turning it over in his hands and brushing away more of the dirt.

‘A little of it was out of the ground and it was shining,’ Temeraire said. ‘Is that gold? I like the look of it.’

‘No, it is just pyrite, but it is very pretty, is it not? I suppose you are one of those hoarding creatures,’ Laurence said, looking affectionately up at Temeraire; many dragons had an inborn fascination with jewels or precious metals. ‘I am afraid I am not rich enough a partner for you; I will not be able to give you a heap of gold to sleep on.’

‘I should rather have you than a heap of gold, even if it were very comfortable to sleep on,’ Temeraire said. ‘I do not mind the deck.’

He said it quite normally, not in the least as though he meant to deliver a compliment, and immediately went back to looking at his clouds; Laurence was left gazing after him in a sensation of mingled amazement and extraordinary pleasure. He could scarcely imagine a similar feeling; the only parallel he could conceive from his old life would be if the Reliant had spoken to say she liked to have him for her captain: both praise and affection, from the highest source imaginable, and it filled him with fresh determination to prove worthy of the encomium.

‘I am afraid I cannot help you, sir,’ the old fellow said, scratching behind his ear as he straightened up from the heavy volume before him. ‘I have a dozen books of draconic breeds, and I cannot find him in any of them. Perhaps his colouration will change when he gets older?’