Blood of Tyrants

Page 10

Chapter 10
“HM,” SAID GENERAL CHU, deep in his throat, when he had been presented to the rest of the formation, and to Iskierka and Kulingile. Temeraire eyed him uneasily. His yellow crest had evidently with age sprouted a great golden-colored mane, which framed his broad flat jaws and the curving horns which bent away from his forehead, and the edges of his vermilion scales were tipped with translucence. He was not quite so large as Temeraire himself, smaller considerably than Maximus and Kulingile, and he was not a Celestial, of course; but somehow that did not seem to matter very much.
He had been very polite, of course—very gracious—on their introduction; he had bowed quite formally and correctly to Laurence and to Temeraire himself, with all the respect due to the Imperial connection. No-one could possibly have faulted his manners, only Temeraire could not quite help but feel that the general did not think very much of their company.
“Hm,” General Chu said again, after a moment’s silence in which they all stared at one another. “Well, we will not get to Xian any sooner. Let us be going.”
“Oh,” Temeraire said, a little taken aback. “Do you mean, now?”
Chu peered at him from under the bristling fringe of his mane, with an air of raised eyebrows. “Are you ill?” he said, with a hint of waspishness. “Is the chill of the day too great?” The day was in fact not in the least cold, an early-spring pleasantness in the air.
“No, only,” Temeraire said, “are we not to take a great many soldiers with us?”
“Three jalan,” General Chu said, and paused as if waiting for Temeraire to go on; but since Temeraire did not know in the least what to say, after a moment Chu added, “Of course you would not expect them to gather all here and fly along the entire way with us,” in heavy, pointed tones.
Temeraire had expected just that. He had been on fire, in fact, to see a proper Chinese aerial company assembled; and he knew Laurence and the other aviators were as deeply interested as he was himself. “Of course not,” he said, a little abashed, and turning his head down murmured to Laurence, “Can we be ready to leave very quickly, Laurence, do you think?”
“He means us to leave on the moment?” Laurence looked at Hammond, and at the other captains; no-one spoke a moment in their confusion. Laurence had only returned two hours before, and had scarcely even had enough time to explain to everyone the Emperor’s command.
Then Captain Harcourt said, “I suppose there’s no reason to wait, if we are going. Have we any better notion of what to do?”
She looked around, and no-one answered her: they had all been debating just that, vigorously, before General Chu’s abrupt arrival; but while disliking the orders, no-one could work out an alternative. Hammond had just been saying, “We cannot refuse this direct Imperial command—at least, Captain Laurence cannot, not and maintain any thin fiction of familial connection: and having lost that tenuous connection, they will assuredly not merely refuse our requests for alliance, but order us out of the capital forthwith, and revoke all those particular and unusual trading privileges which have so benefitted our nation, in the last five years—”
Temeraire, for his part, had no objection to taking Laurence away from here, where assassins lurked around every corner and he was not even to be permitted to deal with Lord Bayan as that treacherous coward deseved. Temeraire was sure that they should certainly be able to quash this rebellion handily, and it seemed to him as good a means as any for ensuring they should gain the alliance they required.
“Well,” Harcourt said, when no-one had anything else to offer, “let us call it settled: I don’t say we shall stay, but I don’t suppose it will hurt us to go. Mr. Hammond, you would oblige me greatly if you would dash a few words to Captain Blaise in the Potentate, so he knows where we have got ourselves off to; and I dare say we can be off in a trice.”
She turned and called to her first lieutenant, “Richards, we must get aloft: and there is not a moment to lose, if you please.”
The aviators went into the tremendous scrambling rush of getting away: gear tumbled pell-mell into chests, the ground crewmen hauling up the belly-netting to the shouts of, “Heave! Heave!” and the officers leaping aboard. Temeraire watched with a little disgruntlement as his own crew went aboard Kulingile. Of course he understood that, according to the Chinese way of thinking, there was a loss of dignity in carrying so many men and going under harness, and for a Celestial to be so burdened was unthinkable; as a consequence, they had devised this arrangement for their journey to the capital from Tien-sing harbor. And while certainly Temeraire did not want to look undignified, he still could not like it in the least; he sighed.
“Will I come with you?” Junichiro was asking Laurence. Temeraire did not quite know what to think of him: he had been very ready to take Junichiro to his heart, when he had learnt everything that young man had done, to see Laurence safely back; but Junichiro had been so very standoffish; he had spurned Temeraire’s thanks, saying, “I did nothing for his sake,” and when Temeraire had asked him for lessons in Japanese, shipboard, he had refused with a flat, unfriendly, “Of what use could such instruction be to you? We will never return there again,” and he had walked clear away across the dragondeck. He did nothing all the day but sit and stare across the ocean, or, since they disembarked, at a wall, it seemed to Temeraire; and though Laurence had asked Emily Roland to teach him English, Junichiro did not seem to be making any progress at all: he scarcely answered when she tried to make him repeat the most basic words.
Even now, he did not ask with any interest, only a cold question, as though he did not care either way, and did not very much want to come; but Laurence said only, “We are all going; stay with Midwingman Roland, if you please,” and sent him up to Kulingile’s back after her.
“Have a little patience: he has been a great deal bereft,” Laurence said, as he climbed into Temeraire’s cupped talons to be put up. “And I cannot give him any real work to do, until he has learnt English; we must let time work on him, and isolation. He is a young man: I dare say he will lose his taste for solitude, soon enough, and want some more society than he can get speaking only Chinese.”
Laurence latched his carabiners on: Temeraire did not even need to shake himself and settle his own harness, as he had none but his polished breastplate, which O’Dea had looked over for him. “It is sure to tarnish sooner or late, with all this sea-air and flying,” O’Dea had said, alarmingly, but when pressed had added, “though not yet: the rot lies far off in wait, for another day.”
Leaning over to speak to General Chu, Laurence asked, “Sir, may I inquire, are there arrangements we ought make for our supply?”
“No particular arrangements will be necessary until we are closer to Xian,” Chu answered, without even looking up. He had sighed heavily, watching their preparations, and had shut his eyes and lay his head down upon his forelegs to rest.
Those preparations were accomplished in under half-an-hour; he cracked one enormous green eye and peered out. “Are you ready at last?” he said, and heaved back up to his feet. “Very well, then,” and coiling himself up on his hindquarters launched himself into the air. His wings were short, the veins and ribbing in green, and his body long and sinuous, so he went undulating as he flew.
“I do not see in the least what he has to object to; we went very quickly indeed,” Temeraire said to Laurence, grumbling, and leapt after the general’s dwindling figure.
A quartet of Jade Dragons, the tiny light-weight couriers scarcely much larger than a man, rose from outside the Imperial grounds to join them: the four of them bore long fluttering banners, red emblazoned with golden characters, and preceded General Chu in the air in a straight line. They led the way southward out of the city, the broad avenues and teeming marketplaces falling away to narrower streets thronged with men broken with the occasional great pavilion crammed with dragons sleeping or amusing themselves. Temeraire saw from aloft, as they passed an immense complex upon the outskirts of Peking, a handful of the most common sort of blue dragons playing some sort of game with stones, which he made a note to inquire about when he had anyone more sympathetic to ask than Chu.
The city yielded to settled sparse towns and then all at once to farmland and fields. Temeraire noticed large square markers set at regular intervals beneath them, dark grey stone engraved with white-enameled characters: they all bore the name of Peking, the direction to that city, and the distance. He pointed them out to Laurence. “That is very convenient,” he said, “and I wonder we do not have them in England; it is much less trouble than having to follow a road, only to know where you are; I can see these from quite far away without the least difficulty.”
“It is a clever notion,” Laurence said, peering down over Temeraire’s shoulder with his glass, “although I suppose it is no use at night.”
But that proved not to be the case: as the evening fell, the letters still came onwards, taking on a pallid glow, faint but enough to make them legible for a little while as they swam out of the dark. “I cannot imagine how they are arranging it,” Laurence said, trying to look through his glass. “Perhaps when we land we may have an opportunity to examine them. Temeraire, we must ask him for a halt in any case, not long from now; those fellows in the belly-netting must be allowed to stretch their legs. We are not flying to a battle.”
They had gone nearly ten hours straight, without a pause; but even as Laurence spoke, abruptly General Chu and the Jade Dragons turned their course and began to descend gradually from the sky towards a pavilion, its eaves hanging with shining white lanterns and a thin trailing column of smoke rising from the roof, and they came to ground in a broad hard-packed courtyard before it.
There was a splendidly appetizing smell of roasted pig coming from within. The Jade Dragons stepped aside and bowed their heads, and Chu also stepped to one side waiting for Temeraire to precede him in, which was as satisfying as anyone could wish, and when he had gone in he found a high-roofed hall, splendidly formed of what looked to be entire tree-trunks bound at intervals with polished bronze, and a handsome dinner laid on for them already.
At the head of the table, waiting, was Prince Mianning; and to his either side several dragons, both Imperials and the scarlet war-dragons, but that was not the important, the very important point: one of the dragons was Mei.
“The dangers of your charge are many, I am aware,” Mianning said, “and the chance of failure is great; but the rewards of victory will be commensurate.”
His servant was pouring the tea with great carelessness; it slopped freely to every side, leaves and liquid spattering hot across the table and even to the ground. The dragons had sated themselves all upon roasted pork, and most of the aviators as well, and fallen into a stuporous sleep well-earned by their day’s long exertions; it was surely almost the middle of the night. Laurence alone had been invited to join Mianning within the inner chamber, for this final leavetaking, although he half-suspected Hammond of sitting by the door outside with his ear pressed to a crack.
“My intention is to send Lung Qin Mei with you,” Mianning went on as the servant with ceremony handed him and then Laurence a cup, of a brew which had a peculiarly smoky and strong flavor, bitter on the tongue. “This will ensure further opportunities for conception; and should we be fortunate and an egg produced, will also enable you to keep the news concealed from the capital as long as possible. With your company, sheltered amongst foreign dragons and away from the Imperial household who are ever-watchful for such signs as mark the coming of an egg, she may conceal her state a long while. You and your fellows may then hide away the egg, and perhaps bring it back to the palace in secret.
“For the rest, I hope you have seen the advantages of the situation. You will travel under our banners, and with a company of three jalan. Should you succeed in your mission, nothing will be more natural than to send a similar force westward with you, to your war against Napoleon.”
Laurence did appreciate that advantage, but not in the least the high-handed way in which the situation had been thrust upon them. Hammond’s endless strictures still rang in his ears, but he and Mianning had gone through fire together, quite literally, and though the crown prince could not at all be said to have a manner which encouraged license, Laurence determined to take the bull by the horns. “Your Highness, I beg your pardon for speaking plainly, but I cannot undertake to commit even myself, much less my country-men, to this mission: not for any length of time and certainly not for the time required to produce an egg. We are certainly not responsible for the resurgence of this native rebellion; we cannot contribute materially to its end. Mr. Hammond has urged our going, rather than defy the Emperor’s will openly; but I cannot conceive our long remaining, kicking our heels in your back-country. There is open war in Europe, and if our party seems to you insignificant to that effort, I assure you by the standards of our own nation it is not. If you desire this alliance as much as we do, then I must tell you that we will require some excuse for our returning, sooner rather than late, if you do not mean us to give it up.”
Laurence had no idea how this was received: Mianning heard him out with no evidence of either impatience or sympathy. “We must permit events to unfold,” Mianning said only. “The situation of your army in the West is naturally of great concern to you.” Polite enough, but making no promises. “I suggest that you take this opportunity to observe the work of General Chu, and of our jalan: this will afford you opportunity to gain a better understanding of the management of aerial warfare as its principles are understood by our nation.” He did not say outright that he felt their understanding of those principles was far superior to the British, but he hardly needed to.
“When we have actually seen scale or tooth of any other dragon in this so-called company,” Captain Warren said, with some asperity, when Laurence had recounted his conversation, “it will be soon enough for us to be amazed. I suppose we have managed well enough against Boney, even with that Chinese worm of his whispering advice in his ear. If these fellows will only give us a few dozen beasts, I will thank them well enough, and they can keep their principles.”
“Pray not so loud,” Hammond said, glancing worried over his shoulder: he had nearly suffered an apoplexy at Laurence’s account. Mianning and his escort had already departed, but Chu droned in sleep in a warm forward corner of the pavilion, and the Jade Dragons lay in a neat row against the entry wall. Laurence did not think they were in any state to overhear, despite the thin gleaming slits of their eyes still cracked ajar, but the impression of being observed lingered, and he could understand Hammond saying, “Perhaps we ought to retire, gentlemen; we will surely have a long flight ahead of us again on the morrow.”
They parted, the captains each joining their own beasts; Laurence went first to see how his crew were settled. A folding screen, pilfered in haste from their quarters in the Imperial palace, made at least the illusion of a private space for Mrs. Pemberton and Emily in the corner, although when Laurence tapped and was invited to look in, he discovered that rather in defiance of their respective rôles, Emily had placed herself nearer the open floor, and her hand rested in her sleep upon her unsheathed sword.
Mrs. Pemberton yet sewed by the light of a candle. “Yes,” she said ruefully, “I am afraid she insisted, and asked what I would do if someone did choose to come in. As I had no answer to give but that I would certainly raise a cry, she told me I could do that perfectly well from behind her, while she taught the fellow a sharper lesson.”
“I am sorry to subject you to such a journey,” Laurence said; she had been swept along in their general pell-mell departure, but now he wondered if he ought send her by some escort back to the Potentate. He made the offer, but she avowed herself quite willing to endure the hardship.
“Emily has offered to teach me how to shoot her pistols, and to reload them,” she said, “and I believe I will take her up on the offer if you have no objections, Captain. Not that I am truly concerned at present, but as I understand it, we expect to be joined by a large force of soldiers?”
“How large,” Laurence said dryly, “remains to be seen.”
He bowed and took his leave of her, making note to speak to Forthing about arranging some guard of steady and respectable men for the ladies. He had not yet decided what to think of his first officer: it was perhaps the worst of his loss of memory, to have no measure, no sense, of those on whose judgment he had to rely; and he was the more disturbed to have some cause to doubt them. At least Forthing so far seemed steady enough—he was no gentleman, it was true, but that was a charge which many a good officer of the Navy could not answer. But Laurence knew nothing of him in any difficult circumstances, under exigency.
The rest of his men were sleeping on the other side of the folding screen, bundled into rough blankets and bedrolls. O’Dea and a few of the ground crewmen were engaged in a muttered game of cards, their legs stretched out around them and their deck so worn that the faces could scarcely be distinguished.
Baggy was sitting with them; Laurence silently caught him by the ear and drew him up and away, the boy scrambling to his feet wincing and stifling a yelp. “Take his cards, will you, O’Dea?” Laurence said. “Sleep well, men; we will do what we can tomorrow to see you do not have so cramped a time of it.”
“Ah,” O’Dea said, scooping up the cards, “and two queen in his hand; well, ’tis the wages of sin.” He tossed them into the discards. “No call to go to great lengths, Captain, when we are flying into a hive of very iniquitous rebels: the Old Nick can make us dance even if our legs are stiff when we get to him.”
The other ground crewmen did not look very enthusiastic about this description of their prospects; Laurence sighed inwardly, but only nodded them good night and hauled Baggy away. “Sir, I didn’t think there were no—any harm in it; they’re only playing for pence,” Baggy said, tipping his head sideways to ease his ear, and trying to peer at Laurence out of the corner of his eye at once.
Laurence let him go at his empty bedroll, near the other officers. “You have been advanced before the mast, as it were,” he said, “so I will make allowances this time, Mr.—” He stumbled; he realized he did not even know Baggy’s real name. “—sir,” he substituted. “But you are an officer now: you cannot sit to cards with the ground crew at night, with men twice and more your age, and then make them give you precedence in the morning. Nothing could be less respectful.” He paused, glancing over: Junichiro, who shared quarters with the junior officers, was sitting yet awake on his own bedroll; he was looking steadfastly down at his hands, and pretending not to observe the lecture.
“You will show Mr. Junichiro the ropes,” Laurence said abruptly to Baggy, “beginning tomorrow. We will put a little more harness on Temeraire, and you will come aboard, as my servants; I dare say the Chinese cannot object to that. You will take him above and below while we are aloft.”
“How am I to learn from him?” Junichiro said, with at least some sort of a spark, even if it was of dismay, when Laurence had conveyed this programme to him in Chinese. “He does not know any civilized language, and he is—” Junichiro hesitated, for lack of the word, but Laurence did not require it said aloud: Baggy was indeed not very prepossessing, and no-one could have called him gentleman-like.
“As you must learn English, however uncivilized, before I can seek a commission for you,” Laurence said, “that must not be a bar; and Baggy is an officer of the Corps, regardless of his manners. You will sit together on the left shoulder, and inquire of me if you require a translation now and again: you will have to climb over to my position to do so, but it will be as well for you to have that practice.” He left them staring at each other, satisfied himself if they were not. At the very least Junichiro would be diverted some more from his desolation, and Baggy from seeking inappropriate society; and Laurence relied on the power of boredom to make them learn to talk to each other eventually, trapped aloft for ten hours at a time: Baggy was a sociable creature, and might with his very lack of sensibility wear down Junichiro’s resistance.
A separate inner chamber of the pavilion had been set aside for Temeraire’s use; but as he had withdrawn to it with Mei after their dinner, Laurence was far from wishing to interrupt them. He had delayed as long as he might, however, so tentatively he looked inside. To his relief, the two dragons slept already, with their noses only touching; and he found a separate sleeping alcove set aside where his own things had been laid out, the archway leading to it closed off by heavy drapes.
He roused early and found the main chamber empty: going outside he saw Temeraire at some distance from the pavilion, an enormous bulk in the midst of a bare field peering intently at something on the ground; he looked up when Laurence called his name and came towards him. “Pray come and see,” he said, “I admire it very much.” It was one of the carved numbers, and at this close range Laurence could see the white paint lining the sides of each carved channel had in it a great many silvery flecks, polished to a mirror-shine, which evidently caught whatever starlight or moonlight offered and brightened the characters thereby.
Everyone was awake when they returned to the pavilion, and rousing for the day. “Is there more of that pork, anywhere?” Maximus asked, yawning, his eyes half-open.
“Pork!” General Chu said, when Temeraire ventured to ask him, and snorted disapprovingly. He bounded across the chamber to Maximus and, seizing in his jaws one of the tall reeds from the wall, which carried a banner, thwacked him soundly on the hindquarters.
“Oi!” Maximus said, rousing up, “what does he mean by that? Temeraire, tell that fellow to stop, or I will pin him down.”
“Hah! Will he!” General Chu said. “Well, if he is awake, then, tell him to get aloft and stop looking for more food: we will eat to-night, not weight our bellies down for a long day of flying, and if he is sleepy and hungry in the air, perhaps that will remind him to eat more porridge to-night, instead of only gulping meat as though he were a dog. We are on campaign!”
With this rejoinder he put down the reed and stalked outside to make ablutions: a large fountain stood outside gushing from a tall stone pillar, fed somehow from underground; he drank thirstily and deeply from the gush, then thrust his head into the deep pool which it fed, and flinging it back let the water pour off his mane and cascade down his back to the ground. Then he flew some short distance to the nearby midden.
“It don’t make any sense to me; we’ve always stuffed them full as they could hold, when we were going to be doing any long flying, if there was food to be had,” Granby said doubtfully, when Laurence asked him his opinion. “But we can’t drum them up some pigs from thin air, and I don’t see any here, so we must lump it for now whether it’s good advice or no.”
They followed Chu’s example at the fountain, and got themselves aboard again, not without some stifled sighs from the ground crewmen, who could see ahead another day of endless crammed-in flying. “Pray forgive us, Larring,” Harcourt said, to her own ground-crew master. “I don’t mean to use you all so unkind. While we fly to-day, piece out the spare leather into belt-harnesses for you all, and beginning tomorrow we’ll have you take it in turn to latch on to the back harness yourselves. It will be good for the officers to have some exercise climbing about, anyway; it’s been too long since we had maneuvers.”
She added to Laurence and Granby afterwards, before they themselves mounted, “But it will slow us down, if they have to be clambering all over creation while we fly, with only belt-harness. Will there be any more dragons, any time soon, so we could let the fellows ride?”
That question was answered late that afternoon: beneath them the markers changed, and instead of Peking the name of another city was shown, unfamiliar to them all; General Chu glancing down saw it, and said something to one of the Jade Dragons. The green dragon nodded, with three quick efficient jerks rolled up her banner, handed it on to the second, and wheeling shot away into the upper air and south-easterly, vanishing with almost unbelievable speed.
She returned scarcely an hour later, dropping back into place, and took up her banner again. They flew on another two hours, and as the sun descended Laurence saw in the distance four dragons, three red and a blue, gathered at a marker up ahead. Even as their own company approached, the party leapt aloft to meet them and fell into place off their left flank and slightly above, in a simple arrow-head formation, the blue dragon at the rear and center. The leader, who wore a thin flat band of silver about his neck, bobbed his head respectfully to Temeraire and to Chu, but not a word was said: they all flew onwards together.
Laurence could crane about to peer at them more closely, at least at their underbellies, and could see the other aviators doing so all amongst their company. The three red dragons wore a kind of light armoring, thin hammered plates sewn together and bound very near the skin; it was heaviest at the pockets where the legs met the body, padded a little there. They carried not a single man amongst them; Laurence had seen a few upon their backs, but those were not visible from below, and did not at any time come climbing into view.
The blue dragon, on the other hand, wore no armor but bore a silken carrying-harness, some thirty men aboard in rows down its sides, and long nets between those rows bulged with supplies. It flew a little below the red dragons, and Laurence realized after a time observing that where the three red beat their wings in time, the blue beat his at a pace off-set and quicker, three to each stroke of the larger beasts. “I wonder if it improves his speed,” Laurence said.
The next day two more such groups joined them; the day after, another. By the end of the first week, as they crossed the border into the neighboring province, they flew with forty dragons at their back.