“Perhaps a letter—” Hammond said, half-desperately: he had already written three of these, in French and English both, and sent them on ahead by courier to Moscow, to inform the Tsar of the approaching windfall of dragons.
But he could scarcely deny that a single envoy appearing, in the company of several unharnessed dragons and claiming to be from the Emperor of China, should find it difficult to gain the confidence of the Tsar; and Gong Su pointed out he himself had not the advantage of the French language, nor could he rely upon finding an English interlocutor at the Russian court. “No, yes, of course, your point is well taken, only—” Hammond said, until at last with an unhappy look he had gone away to gather what few things he could assemble before being swept away: amongst these Churki, who shook her head disapprovingly at the prospect of the war herself.
“Three thousand miles to cross before we even come to the battle?” she said. “I do not deny the Chinese managed things very nicely on this last journey: I do not know that I have ever seen a neater job of supply. But that was in their country, with all the arrangements and storehouses they have laid up. It is unwise to fly so deep into a strange country without making arrangements in advance. But,” she added, “in any case, Hammond, yes, it will be for the best if we go on ahead with this advance party. If I do not like the look of things, we will be closer to Britain, at least.”
Her pleasure at the prospect of returning to Britain had very little to do with having absorbed Hammond’s loyalties. He had in desperation, to prevent her trying to keep him back at her own mother’s estate in the Incan Empire, explained his unwillingness to be severed from contact with his family. This being large and numerous, and by Incan tradition Churki’s right to claim under her own protection, had changed her mind entirely; she spoke of them already in a possessive light at regular intervals, and had made Hammond teach her the names of all his nieces and nephews.
Hammond had given over trying to detach her, by now; he merely threw her a look of anxiety, and said to the rest of them as he made his hasty farewells, “Gentlemen, I trust I will see you in Moscow, not very long from now,” a little grimly, as if he hoped, rather than promised, to be there.
“Hammond,” Captain Harcourt said abruptly, “I beg your pardon, but I don’t think you will see all of us.” Laurence looked at her in surprise; he saw the other captains turn to look at her as well. “I have read over our orders, and they are clear enough: we are to get help to the Russians. But we have done that; I don’t think our formation will make a particle of difference with three hundred Chinese dragons there, and we will make a good deal of difference in the Peninsula.”
She turned to the other officers. “As soon as we have seen the egg safe delivered, gentlemen, I am taking the formation back to the Potentate, and we are going to make the best time we can for Portugal.”
She spoke with decision; she was senior, as Lily headed the formation, and the right was hers. In any case Laurence could not quarrel with her judgment. In company with the Chinese legions, the formation could only be incidental, accompanying a force already more powerful than anything they would face in the air. In the Peninsula, they would represent very likely a substantial alteration in the balance of power. He could see at a glance, in Berkley’s face and Sutton’s, the immediate agreement, the eagerness almost at once to be gone where they might do so much good, and rejoin their own ranks; Laurence himself was hard-pressed to regard their prospects without envy.
“You must go with them,” Laurence said to Demane, later that same evening, and found as he spoke that he knew Demane would not wish to go; that he knew, remembered, that Demane would not wish to be parted from Emily Roland. “I trust,” he added, when Demane drew a breath, “that you do not propose to offer me an argument against your departure that would be as ungentlemanly as it would be ill-advised, when she has refused your offer.”
Demane hesitated, and Laurence softened his tone a little. “No better chance is likely to offer itself to establish your career and see your rank confirmed properly: away from the Ministry and political concerns, on a battlefield, under Admiral Roland’s command and Wellington’s. Resolve to win their confidence, to behave as an officer and a gentleman, and you may hope to be treated as one: there are not so many heavy-weights on a scale as Kulingile that the Corps can easily let you go begging.