Victory of Eagles (16 page)

“Oh, I am glad,” Elsie said, gulping air between words. “I am not—
quite
sure I could have run away

from that big French one.”

“I hope we may not need to run away from that other fellow,” Hollin said, a sentiment which Laurence

shared: the Regal Copper outweighed the other dragon by at least another seven or eight tons. He had

now got his claws into the Chevalier’s shoulders and was scratching at him with his hind legs, shaking him

all the time so the riflemen could not get their feet enough to fire at him properly; and the handful of wild

shots which they managed did not trouble him greatly.

It was a savage style of fighting, and if cruder than formation-flying, on the level of such an individual

contest the unexpected ferocity told worse than discipline. The Chevalier squalled at last, frantically, and

with a great convulsive heave managed to tear himself free, leaving great torn gashes in his flesh, three

furrows along each shoulder almost like bars of rank. He bolted headlong away, leaving the Regal

Copper in possession of the field.

The victorious beast spread his wings, glowing vividly red with the sun behind them, and roared

triumphantly after the Petit Chevalier, a great deep bellowing noise like hosts of thunder, and then the

Regal Copper turned to look at them and said, in tones of great disapproval, “Well, and what are you

about? I don’t think much of your sense, taking on a fellow that size.”

“Pray,” Elsie said timidly, “we didn’t mean to, only he came on us all of a sudden; and Devastatio is

hurt.”

“Oh, there is another of you?” The Regal turned and scanned over the ground. They had drifted some

way off in the fighting, and Devastatio had tried to drag himself under some trees, for concealment, but

Regal Coppers had tolerable eyesight from a sufficient distance, and after a bit of scanning about he said,

“Ha, there he is,” and flew over to the hiding place, landing with a tremendous thump. “You lot were all

told this morning not to come round here,” the big dragon said severely, nosing over Devastatio’s

wounds. “I said those big Frenchies were going to be going up and down carrying soldiers about all this

way, didn’t I? This is going to be nasty, healing.”

“We were told nothing of the sort!” Miller said, having to lean rather frantically away to keep from being

squashed by the prodding.

The Regal jerked his head back in surprise, and then put it farther back, squinting at them rather

uselessly. “Is that a man? Why, you are under harness,” he said, exclaiming, and turned to squint at Elsie,

too. “Both of you.”

“Of course they are,” Miller said, and added, with what Laurence had to admit was marked courage, if

not much sense of gratitude, “Why are you flying about wild like this? Why have you gone out of the

breeding grounds?”

“Hum,” the Regal Copper said. “I am no hand at explaining things, so I suppose you had better come

along with me and talk to the commander.”

“What do you mean, commander,” Miller said, bewildered. “Are you fighting with the militia?”

“Yes, all those fellows are with us,” the Regal Copper said. “Come on then, up you get,” he added, to

Devastatio. The Winchester sniffed a little, still licking at his wounds a bit more, but obeyed, climbing

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awkwardly onto the enormous dragon’s back. The Regal Copper went up with a tremendous propelling

leap, took on a little height, and ponderously began to flap away, Elsie darting after him anxiously.

The flight was short, despite his slow pace, and he astonishingly landed them just outside the edges of a

vast and neatly organized camp. Laurence had a glimpse of many dragons lying about in the clearing as

they landed, and a large pen full of enormous black pigs.

The Regal padded along a broad cleared lane through the trees towards the heart of the camp, only to

pull up short when a little Winchester, also without any harness, popped up on the border and said

loudly, “Stop and give the watch-word!”

“It’s me, isn’t it?” the Regal Copper said. “And these two are with me, so they are all right, too.”

“That don’t matter,” the Winchester said, stubbornly. “Everyone must give the watch-word, or else I am

to yell, but,” he said hastily, as the Regal Copper lowered his head, snorting, “I suppose that don’t mean

you,” and hopped aside.

Laurence was startled to find a commander who had so little prejudice against unharnessed dragons that

he had somehow conceived both to recruit them and make use of them in such a fashion. He wondered if

the man could have some experience of the Corps—if he had a relation, or perhaps had lived near a

covert. It made a solution twice over: both to keep the dragons from roving wild across the countryside,

pillaging, and to strengthen his own militia force greatly. It did puzzle Laurence to see a dragon put on

watch duty; but perhaps it would serve all the better to put off any spies.

Miller’s expression, where he sat perched up on the Regal beside Devastatio, stroking the injured

dragon, suggested he was less impressed than scandalized to see beasts without harness, and serving in

such a rôle.

For his part, the Regal did not seem to think much of it, either. “What things are coming to, I am sure I

don’t know,” he said, shaking his head as he padded along. “It is all well and good to be talking on about

pavilions and such,” and Laurence felt a great leap of hope, even before the Regal brought them out into

the clearing at the center of the camp and said, “Temeraire, there are some fellows here to see you,” and

Laurence flung loose his carabiner straps and leapt down from Elsie’s back, to see the great black head

swinging around towards him.

“IT IS VERY WELLto have an eagle,” Temeraire said; it was a particularly bright gold now they had

washed all the dirt from it—everyone had been ready to help—and the standard with it was very

handsome, too, now the men had brushed it clean. It would be quite a wrench to sell it, he felt, and the

way everyone else looked at it he expected they felt the same. “But we must not begin to think we will

have things all our own way. There have not been very many French dragons to fight yet, because they

are all busy carrying about the men, but sooner or later we will have to manage them.”

“I have some notions,” Perscitia said, “which we might like to try, when we have more to fight—”

“Temeraire,” Requiescat said, coming into the clearing behind him; Temeraire looked around and saw

there was an injured Winchester on his back, and another trotting along behind him, with his old

ground-crew master Hollin on her back.

Requiescat was still talking, and Perscitia going on about pepper, but Temeraire did not perfectly

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understand either of them; the words did not seem to want to make sense. That was Laurence, coming

towards him; but Laurence was dead, and he was saying, “Temeraire, thank Heavens; I have been trying

to find you these last five days.”

“But you are dead?” Temeraire said, uneasily. He had never seen a ghost, and had often thought it

would be very interesting, but this was not, at all; it was dreadful, to see Laurence just as in life, to wish

that he might reach out and gather him in, and keep him safe.

But Laurence said, “Of course I am not dead, my dear; I am here,” and Temeraire bent down his head

and peered at Laurence very closely, and put out his tongue experimentally to sniff at him, and then at last

he cautiously, so cautiously, put out his forehand to curl about Laurence and lift him up, and oh, he was

quite solid: he was there, and he was not dead at all, and Temeraire gave a low joyful cry and curled

around him tightly and said, “Oh, Laurence; I shall never let anyone take you from me again.”

Chapter 7

N
O; THEY NEARLYdrowned you, and not even on purpose but only through carelessness. I am not

letting them have you back,” Temeraire said. “Besides, I cannot go; I cannot just leave everyone here.”

“You are more desperately needed with the main force,” Laurence said, trying to explain, the obstinate

gleam in Temeraire’s eye discouraging. “We must speak to the commander.”

“I am the commander,” Temeraire said.

Laurence stared up at his earnest expression from within the protective wall of dragon encircling him,

and then pulling himself up onto the ridge of Temeraire’s forearm looked more closely around the

clearing. There was not a senior officer to be seen, anywhere, and none of the dragons, many of them

regarding him with equal curiosity, were harnessed—besides the enormous Regal, an old Longwing lay

with milky orange eyes half-lidded sleepily, and a big Chequered Nettle, a Parnassian, and scattered

smaller dragons all around.

Beyond them Laurence could see the camp all full of dragons: Yellow Reapers by the dozens, sleeping

nearly in a single heap, and smaller courier-beasts and light-weights sprawled upon them everywhere.

There were a handful of men dealing with the pigs and a few cattle, penned up to one side, but they were

in rough clothing, not officers of the Corps. Some few hundred in red coats mostly faded to russet,

standing by the guns, and some volunteers in private coats: that was all. “The militia,” Laurence said,

slowly.

“Yes, Lloyd and some of our herdsmen told us where to fetch them,” Temeraire said. “They are very

good fellows: once they settled down, at least, and began to believe we were not going to eat them. We

needed them to fire our guns.”

“Good God,” Laurence said, comprehensively; he could well and vividly imagine the reaction which the

Lords of the Admiralty should have, to the intelligence that the well-formed orderly militia which they

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confidently expected, with a clever young officer at its head, was rather an experimental and wholly

independent legion of unharnessed dragons, without great sympathy for their Lordships, and under the

particular command of the most recalcitrant dragon in all Britain.

“Well,” Temeraire said, when he had listened to Laurence’s awkward attempt to explain the orders

which had brought them here, and the misunderstanding, “it does not seem at all complicated to me; they

did not say you were only to give the commission, if the commander were a man?” he asked, lowering his

head towards Miller.

“Why, not—no—” Miller said, staring, “but—”

“Then it is perfectly plain,” Temeraire said, riding over him. “I shall write and say I am happy to accept

my commission, and apologize that my duty to the regiment prevents my returning with Laurence at

present; they cannot complain of that. Anyway, we must send at once to warn them: Napoleon will be

attacking London in two days.”

A more sensational means of diverting their attention he could hardly have conjured. Laurence did not

know what to think, at first: Temeraire had perhaps a dragon’s idea of distances, and did not appreciate

the difficulties inherent in moving so many men and horses and their supply, from a landing on a hostile

shore, to assault. It had not yet been a week since the landings on the Channel coast. Without opposition,

in that time Bonaparte might have marched his men in a long string to the city, but as an army, ready to

fight, no: Laurence relied on it. Or, he wished to rely on it, but he recalled too vividly the thunder of the

guns at Warsaw, a month and more before the French ought to have been
there,
either, and doubted

uneasily. “Can you be certain?”

“We have been watching Marshal Lefèbvre’s corps,” Temeraire said. “They had orders this morning

and set off directly; and they have been moving soldiers about all of to-day, towards London. Requiescat

saw them.”

“Requiescat?” Laurence said.

“You have met him, he brought you here,” Temeraire said.

“He cannot have got very close, unnoticed,” Laurence said: a Regal Copper was an odd choice of spy.

“Oh, he did not try to sneak,” Temeraire said. “No-one very much likes to start a quarrel with him, you

see, so he could come close before they were quite ready to fight him. And when the French could see

no-one was with him, they supposed he was run away from the breeding grounds, and looking for other

dragons to have some company. So they were very eager to tempt him to stay, and they put out cows for

him in their camp. It was much easier than if we had to feed him ourselves, and he was able to see

everything they were doing.”

“Which is, hieing themselves off towards the city,” Requiescat put in. “They was all looking for us before