Empire of Ivory

‘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.’