Black Powder War. Naomi Novik
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thick journal full of little hand-sketched maps, and directions taken down in a small, neat hand.
All of it showed signs of use and good upkeep; plainly he knew what he was about, and he did not show himself overeager, as Riley had feared, for their custom. ‘I had not thought of returning to Istanbul,’ Tharkay said instead, when Laurence at last came around to inquiring if he would be their guide. ‘I have no real business there.’
‘But have you any elsewhere?’ Granby said. ‘We will have the devil of a time getting there without you, and you should be doing your country a service.’
‘And you will be handsomely paid for your trouble,’ Laurence added.
‘Ah, well, in that case,’ Tharkay said, a wry twist to his smile.
‘Well, I only wish you may all not have your throats slit by Uygurs,’ Riley said in deep pessimism, giving up, after he had tried once more at dinner to persuade them to remain. ‘You will dine with me on board tomorrow, Laurence?’ he asked, stepping into his barge. ‘Very good. I will send over the raw leather, and the ship’s forge,’ he called, his voice drifting back over the sound of the oars dipping into the water.
‘I will not let anyone slit your throats at all,’ Temeraire said, a little indignantly. ‘Although I would like to see an Uygur; is that a kind of dragon?’
‘A kind of bird, I think,’ Granby said; Laurence was doubtful, but he did not like to contradict when he was not sure himself.
‘Tribesmen,’ Tharkay said, the next morning.
‘Oh.’ Temeraire was a little disappointed; he had seen people before. ‘That is not very exciting, but perhaps they are very fierce?’ he asked hopefully.
‘Have you enough money to buy thirty camels?’ Tharkay asked Laurence, after he had finally escaped a lengthy interrogation as to the many other prospective delights of their journey, such as violent sandstorms and frozen mountain passes.
‘We are going by air,’ Laurence said, confused. ‘Temeraire will carry us,’ he added, wondering if Tharkay had perhaps misunderstood.
‘As far as Dunhuang,’ Tharkay said equably. ‘Then we will need to buy camels. A single camel can carry enough water for a day, for a dragon of his size; and then of course he can eat the camel.’
‘Are such measures truly necessary?’ Laurence said, in dismay at losing so much time: he had counted on crossing the desert quickly, on the wing. ‘Temeraire can cover better than a hundred miles in a day at need; surely we can find water over such an expanse.’
‘Not in the Taklamakan,’ Tharkay said. ‘The caravan routes are dying, and the cities die with them; the oases have mostly failed. We ought to be able to find enough for us and the camels, but even that will be brackish. Unless you are prepared to risk his dying of thirst, we carry our own water.’
This naturally putting a period to any further debate, Laurence was forced to apply to Sir Thomas for some assistance in the matter, having had no expectation, on his departure from England, that his ready funds should need to stretch to accommodate thirty camels and supplies for an overland journey. ‘Nonsense, it is a trifle,’ Staunton said, refusing his offered note of hand. ‘I dare say I will have cleared fifty thousand pounds in consequence of your mission, when all is said and done. I only wish I did not think I was speeding you on the way to your destruction. Laurence, forgive me for making so unpleasant a suggestion; I would not like to plant false suspicions in your head, but the possibility has been preying on me since you decided upon going. Could the letter by any chance have been forged?’
Laurence looked at him in surprise, and Staunton went on, ‘Recall that the orders, if honest, must have been written before news of your success here in China reached England— if indeed that news has reached them yet. Only consider the effect upon the negotiations so lately completed if you and Temeraire had unceremoniously gone away in the midst of them: you would have had to sneak out of the country like thieves to begin with, and an insult of such magnitude would surely have meant war. I am hard-pressed to imagine any reason the Ministry should have sent such orders.’
Laurence sent for the letter and for Granby; together they studied it fresh in the strong sunlight from the east-facing windows. ‘I am damned if I am any judge of such things, but it seems Lenton’s hand to me,’ Granby said doubtfully, handing it back.
To Laurence also; the letters were slant and wavering, but this kind of affliction, he did not say to Staunton, was not uncommon; aviators were taken into service at the age of seven, and the most promising among them often became runners by ten, with studies neglected sadly in favour of practical training: his own young cadets were inclined to grumble at his insistence that they should learn to write a graceful hand and practice their trigonometry.
‘Who would bother with it, any road?’ Granby said. ‘That French ambassador hanging about Peking, De Guignes— he left even before we did, and by now I expect he is halfway to France. Besides, he knows well enough that the negotiations are over.’
‘There might be French agents less well-informed behind it,’ Staunton said, ‘or worse, with knowledge of your recent success, trying to lure you into a trap. Brigands in the desert would hardly be above taking a bribe to attack you, and there is something too convenient in the arrival of this message, just when the Allegiance has been damaged, and you are sure to be chafing at your enforced delay.’
‘Well, I make no secret I had as lief go myself, for all this nay-saying and gloom,’ Granby said, as they walked back to their residence: the crew had already begun the mad scramble of preparation, and haphazard bundles were beginning to be piled upon the beach. ‘So it may be dangerous; we are not nursemaids to a colicky baby, after all. Dragons are made to fly, and another nine months of this sitting about on deck and on shore will be the ruin of his fighting-edge.’
‘And of half the boys, if they have not been spoilt already,’ Laurence said grimly, observing the antics of the younger officers, who were not entirely reconciled to being so abruptly put back to work, and engaging in more boisterous behaviour than he liked to see from men on duty.
‘Allen,’ Granby called sharply, ‘mind your damned harness-straps, unless you want to be started with them.’ The hapless young ensign had not properly buckled on his flying-harness, and the long carabiner straps were dragging on the ground behind him, bidding fair to trip him and any other crewman who crossed his path.
The ground-crew master Fellowes and his harness-men were still labouring over the flying rig, not yet repaired after the fire: a good many straps stiff and hard with salt, or rotted or burnt through, which needed replacing; too, several buckles had twisted and curled from the heat, and the armourer Pratt panted over his makeshift forge on shore as he pounded them straight and flat once more.
‘A moment, and I will see,’ Temeraire said, when they had put it on him to try, and leapt aloft in a stinging cloud of sand. He flew a small circuit and landed, directing the crew, ‘Pray tighten the left shoulder-strap a little, and lengthen the crupper,’ but after some dozen small adjustments he pronounced himself satisfied with the whole.
They laid it aside while he had his dinner: an enormous horned cow spit-roasted and dressed with heaps of green and scarlet peppers with blackened skins, and also a great mound of mushrooms, which he had acquired a taste for in Capetown; meanwhile Laurence sent his men to dinner and rowed over to the Allegiance to have a final meal with Riley, convivial though quiet; they did not drink very much, and afterwards Laurence gave him a last few letters for his mother and for Jane Roland, the official post having already been exchanged.
‘Godspeed,’ Riley said, seeing him down the side; the sun was low and nearly hidden behind the buildings of the town as Laurence was rowed back to shore. Temeraire had nibbled the last of the bones clean, and the men were coming out of the house. ‘All lies well,’ Temeraire said, when they had rigged him out once more, and then the crew climbed aboard, latching their individual harnesses onto Temeraire’s with their locking carabiners.
Tharkay, his hat buttoned on with