Blood of Tyrants

“No-one is trying to assassinate me, either,” Laurence said dryly. “I had merely the misfortune of being near the crown prince.”

 

 

“If they want to kill the prince, I dare say they may want to kill you just as well,” Temeraire said. “After all, you are his brother and the Emperor’s son as well; and if they do not like his being a friend to Britain, how much less must they like your being British, to begin with. But,” he added, in tones which implied he was making a handsome gesture, “I do not mean to fuss: come and let us have a bowl of tea, and then you can read to me; that would be much better than wandering all over this palace.”

 

“Temeraire,” Laurence said, while the servants leapt without further instruction into a rush about them, bringing out a great porcelain bowl of deep red for Temeraire, and a small ironwork table and chair for himself, with a cup and saucer to match, and kettles full of steaming and fragrant tea. “—Temeraire,” he repeated, unsure how to broach the subject: would a dragon even care anything for the Admiralty, for what men and government should think of him?

 

“No, of course I do not give two sous for the Admiralty, or the Government,” Temeraire said, straightaway answering all Laurence’s worst fears. “How could anyone, who has known anything of their folly? Why, Laurence, you know that perfectly well.

 

“I suppose you do not remember this,” he added, “but Perscitia writes me they have still not made all the pavilions, which Wellington promised us during the war; but they are also upset if ever a dragon should chance to sleep by the road, on the way from London to Edinburgh, and perhaps eat a pig left wandering loose. But that is perfectly stupid: if there is no pavilion, and no provender, then how else is one to make a long flight? And nevertheless they complain.

 

“As far as I can tell, there is no-one in it who is worth two pins; well, except for you, Hammond,” Temeraire added, as that gentleman entered in haste. “You are not a bad sort of fellow; but if you should attempt to do anything scaly underhand, such as tell me I ought to remain here to replace Chuan, I shall be very cross with you.”

 

Laurence was thwarted in pressing his inquiry by Hammond’s arrival, that gentleman in some disarray, his formal robes far from neatly pressed and showing sharp folded creases in the silk; his hair was disordered. “No, no, not at all,” Hammond said. “I assure you, nothing could be further from my wishes. We cannot afford to lose you. The tie is too valuable to sacrifice, save of course in utter extremis. Without your connection, Captain Laurence’s adoption may be too easily disavowed, and it is that bond which forms the foundation of all our negotiations.

 

“Naturally we must make some gesture, some effort; but I have had a hint, I believe, from Gong Su; with your permission, of course, I should propose Temeraire’s favoring them with an egg. As I understand it,” Hammond added, “your engaging in relations with an Imperial dragon would be the ordinary way of arranging such things.”

 

? ? ?

 

“I should like to know,” Iskierka said, with a hiss of steam and a roiling eye, “what is wrong with our egg. If an egg of yours were wanted, why should anyone look further than that?”

 

They were being served their dinner in Temeraire’s courtyard: a truly splendid dinner, of stewed oxheads and bowls of live eels, seasoned expertly with pepper and vinegar, which unfortunately Maximus did not seem to much enjoy, nor Immortalis and Messoria; they poked a little anxiously at the squirming masses and then nudged the bowls aside, although they were pleased enough with the oxheads, so tender the meat fell off the bones and with the skull cracked open so one might take them into one’s mouth and suck upon them for the excellent brains.

 

“I am afraid,” Temeraire said, a little loftily, “that they do not think much of fire-breathers, here in China—and in any case,” he added, “it is a matter of certain particular superior qualities, which belong to the Celestial breed only, and distinguish us from all others, which must be present in the next Emperor’s dragon.”

 

“Dear one,” Granby said to her, “we don’t at all want to give them your egg: we want to take it back with us, to Britain, and see it in the hands of some proper captain of the Corps.”

 

“I do not see any reason why it should not stay here and belong to the Emperor of China,” Iskierka said stormily. “No reason at all; it is ten thousand miles back to Britain, and who is to say we will not run into some trouble along the way—someone might steal the egg, or it might be cracked. Of course my egg would be very valuable, in the war,” she added, “but I do not believe in taking foolhardy risks—”