“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 then, as we had blacked their eye a couple of times, but soon as the orders came in, off they went; and they sent all the cattle on ahead,” he finished, in gloomy tones.
“Blacked their eye,” Miller said, with a snort. “Yes, damned likely.”
“Like enough,” Hollin said, and pointed. Laurence looked: an eagle standard was jutting from the ground, the 13ème regiment blazoned on the banner. “I’ll take the news, sir,” Hollin added, looking at Laurence. “Me and Elsie can make the dash quick, on our own, and let them know—”
“Damned nonsense,” Miller said. “The news you ought to be taking is, there are sixty dragons as need rounding up, and herding back to the breeding grounds—” He cut off abruptly, as Temeraire took a step and lowered his head very close.
“We are not going to be herded anywhere we do not like,” he said, dangerously, “by Napoleon or by your admirals; and if you like to ask the other dragons of the Corps to try it, I expect they will see at once how very foolish it is, and if not, I will explain it to them, and I dare say they will join us instead.”
Laurence had a fair notion which dragons would be perfectly prepared to join Temeraire under such circumstances, with very little explanation required. That would bring the tally to two Longwings, even if one of them was surely past his real fighting days, and two Regal Coppers; to join with the five other heavy-weights Laurence could see, and a full complement of middle-weights and couriers, which would make Temeraire’s army very nearly the equal to the Corps in strength, at least those forces presently in England and under harness.
If he were not fully aware of these prospects, Miller was wise enough to blanch at the suggestion and to be quelled at least a little. He settled for writing a letter, in a quiet corner, while Temeraire dictated his own:
Gentlemen,
I am very happy to accept your commission, and we should like to be the eighty-first regiment, if that number is not presently taken. We do not need any rifles, and we have got plenty of powder and shot for our cannons,
—Laurence wrote with a vivid awareness of the reactions this should produce—
but we are always in need of more cows and pigs and sheep, and goats would also do, if a good deal easier to come by. Lloyd and our herdsmen have done very well, and I should like to commend them to your attention, but there are a lot of us, and some more herdsmen would be very useful.
“Pepper, put in pepper,” another dragon said, craning her head over; she was a middle-weight, yellowish striped with gray, some kind of cross-breed. “And canvas, we must have a lot of canvas—”
“Oh, very well, pepper,” Temeraire said, and continuing his list of requests added,
I should very much like Keynes to come here, and also Gong Su, and Emily Roland, who has my talon-sheaths, and the rest of my crew; and also we need some surgeons for the wounded men. Dorset had better come, too, and some other dragon-surgeons.
You had all better not stay where you are at present—
“Temeraire, you cannot write so to your superior officers,” Laurence said, breaking off; he had forgone any attempt at explaining that the commission should be instantly withdrawn, and had swallowed many protests already on the language of the letter, in favor of getting its urgent news sent quickly; Jane would understand it, at least; but there were limits.
“But they really had better not,” Temeraire said, surprised. “They have not got enough soldiers, not anywhere near, because they are not moving quickly enough.”
Laurence persuaded him at last to soften the language:
Napoleon will be attacking you on Tuesday, with nearly all his army, as the French are going very quickly because they are all being carried about by dragons, and your reinforcements will not reach you in time—our couriers have seen them on the road and they are only going fifteen miles in a day.
“But what if they do not realize that means they ought to retreat?” Temeraire objected.
“They will understand it, I assure you,” Laurence said; he did not bother to say that they would very likely not believe it, and that nothing would come of Temeraire’s advice.
In this at least he was thoroughly wrong: a great deal came of it, if nothing very desirable. Laurence awoke the next morning, on his dragon-arm pallet, to a furious yelling noise outside the sheltering membrane of Temeraire’s wing. He was not allowed to get down to his feet; he was snatched at once and put on Temeraire’s back, by the breastplate-chain, and then Temeraire pushed himself up to his feet, just as a couple of courier-weights came bounding in urgently from the boundary-line of the camp, half-flying and half-leaping, and gasped out, “Temeraire, she hasn’t the watch-word, but—”
“I do not need any silly watch-word,” Iskierka said, padding into the clearing, and coiled herself back on her hindquarters and snorted a thin stream of fire for emphasis, and the whole mess of the Turkestan ferals came tumbling along behind her.