Temeraire. Naomi Novik
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pulled the struggling lieutenant out of the room, leaving Laurence and Portland alone, with Fernao standing wooden-faced in the corner still holding a tray with the port decanter upon it.
Laurence wheeled on Portland. ‘A gentleman cannot be expected to tolerate such a remark.’
‘An aviator’s life is not only his own; he cannot be allowed to risk it so pointlessly,’ Portland said flatly. ‘There is no duelling in the Corps.’
The repeated pronouncement had the weight of law, and Laurence was forced to see the justice in it; his hand relaxed minutely, though the angry colour did not leave his face. ‘Then he must apologize, sir, to myself and to the Navy; it was an outrageous remark.’
Portland said, ‘And I suppose you have never made nor listened to equally outrageous remarks made about aviators, or the Corps?’
Laurence fell silent before the open bitterness in Portland’s voice. It had never before occurred to him that aviators themselves would surely hear such remarks and resent them; now he understood still more how savage that resentment must be, given that they could not even make answer by the code of their service. ‘Captain,’ he said at last, more quietly, ‘if such remarks have ever been made in my presence, I may say that I have never been responsible for them myself, and where possible I have spoken against them harshly. I have never willingly heard disparaging words against any division of His Majesty’s armed forces; nor will I ever.’
It was now Portland’s turn to be silent, and though his tone was grudging, he did finally say, ‘I accused you unjustly; I apologize. I hope that Dayes, too, will make his apologies when he is less distraught; he would not have spoken so if he had not just suffered so bitter a disappointment.’
‘I understood from what you said that there was a known risk,’ Laurence said. ‘He ought not have built his expectations so high; surely he can expect to succeed with a hatchling.’
‘He accepted the risk,’ Portland said. ‘He has spent his right to promotion. He will not be permitted to make another attempt, unless he wins another chance under fire; and that is unlikely.’
So Dayes was in the same position which Riley had occupied before their last voyage, save perhaps with even less chance, dragons being so very rare in England. Laurence still could not forgive the insult, but he understood the emotion better; and he could not help feeling pity for the fellow, who was after all only a boy. ‘I see; I will be happy to accept an apology,’ he said; it was as far as he could bring himself to go.
Portland looked relieved. ‘I am glad to hear it,’ he said. ‘Now, I think it would be best if you went to speak to Temeraire; he will have missed you, and I believe he was not pleased to be asked to take on a replacement. I hope we may speak again tomorrow; we have left your bedroom untouched, so you need not shift for yourself.’
Laurence needed little encouragement; moments later he was striding to the field. As he drew near, he could make out Temeraire’s bulk by the light of the half-moon: the dragon was curled in small upon himself and nearly motionless, only stroking his gold chain between his foreclaws. ‘Temeraire,’ he called, coming through the gate, and the proud head lifted at once.
‘Laurence?’ he said; the uncertainty in his voice was painful to hear.
‘Yes, my dear,’ Laurence said, crossing swiftly to him, almost running at the end. Making a soft crooning noise deep in his throat, Temeraire curled both forelegs and wings around him and nuzzled him carefully; Laurence stroked the sleek nose.
‘He said you did not like dragons, and that you wanted to be back on your ship,’ Temeraire said, very low. ‘He said you only flew with me out of duty.’
Laurence went breathless with rage; if Dayes had been in front of him he would have flown at the man barehanded and beaten him. ‘He was lying, Temeraire,’ he said, with difficulty; he was half-choked by fury.
‘Yes; I thought he was,’ Temeraire said. ‘But it was not pleasant to hear, and he tried to take away my chain. It made me very angry. And he would not leave, until I put him out, and then you still did not come; I thought maybe he would keep you away, and I did not know where to go to find you.’
Laurence leaned forward and laid his cheek against the soft warm hide. ‘I am so very sorry,’ he said. ‘They persuaded me it was in your best interests to stay away and let him try; but I should have seen what kind of a fellow he was.’
Temeraire was quiet for several minutes, while they stood comfortably together, then said, ‘Laurence, I suppose I am too large to be on a ship now?’
‘Yes, pretty much, except for a dragon transport,’ Laurence said, lifting his head; he was puzzled by the question.
‘If you would like to have your ship back,’ Temeraire said, ‘I will let someone else ride me. Not him, because he says things that are not true; but I will not make you stay.’
Laurence stood motionless for a moment, his hands still on Temeraire’s head, with the dragon’s warm breath curling around him. ‘No, dear one,’ he said at last, softly, knowing it was only the truth. ‘I would rather have you than any ship in the Navy.’
‘No, throw your chest out deeper, like so.’ Laetificat stood up on her haunches and demonstrated, the enormous barrel of her red and gold belly expanding as she breathed in.
Temeraire mimicked the motion; his expansion was less visually dramatic, as he lacked the vivid markings of the female Regal Copper and was of course less than a fifth of her size as yet, but this time he managed a much louder roar. ‘Oh, there,’ he said, pleased, dropping back down to four legs. The cows were all running around their pen in manic terror.
‘Much better,’ Laetificat said, and nudged Temeraire’s back approvingly. ‘Practice every time you eat; it will help along your lung capacity.’
‘I suppose it is hardly news to you how badly we need him, given how our affairs stand,’ Portland said, turning to Laurence; the two of them were standing by the side of the field, out of range of the mess the dragons were about to make. ‘Most of Bonaparte’s dragons are stationed along the Rhine, and of course he has been busy in Italy; that and our naval blockades are all that is keeping him from invasion. But if he gets matters arranged to his satisfaction on the Continent and frees up a few aerial divisions, we can say hail and farewell to the blockade at Toulon; we simply do not have enough dragons of our own here in the Med to protect Nelson’s fleet. He will have to withdraw, and then Villeneuve will go straight for the Channel.’
Laurence nodded grimly; he had been reading the news of Bonaparte’s movements with great alarm since the Reliant had put into port. ‘I know Nelson has been trying to lure the French fleet out to battle, but Villeneuve is not a fool, even if he is no seaman. An aerial bombardment is the only hope of getting him out of his safe harbour.’
‘Which means there is no hope, not with the forces we can bring to it at present,’ Portland said. ‘The Home Division has a couple of Longwings, and they might be able to do it; but they cannot be spared. Bonaparte would jump on the Channel fleet at once.’
‘Ordinary bombing would not do?’
‘Not precise enough at long range, and they have poisoned shrapnel guns at Toulon. No aviator worth a shilling would take his beast close to the fortifications.’ Portland shook his head. ‘No, but there is a young Longwing in training, and if Temeraire will be kind enough to hurry up and grow, then perhaps together they might shortly be able to take the place of Excidium or Mortiferus at the Channel, and even one of those two might be sufficient at Toulon.’
‘I am sure he will do everything in his power to oblige you,’ Laurence said, glancing over; the dragon in question was on his second