“We did not take him to make him a servant, to strangers,” Laurence said when this was translated for him. “Mr. Hammond, pray assure him we will certainly try and find his people, if we can; at least Iskierka can give us the general direction. And if we do not succeed—” He stopped: he had not the least idea what they should do with the old man; they could scarcely leave him alone to his fate, but to take him along away from his home and all his native society seemed not much less cruel. “Ask him what he should like for us to do,” he finished, lamely.
When at last the offer was conveyed and understood Taruca said, doubtfully, “Would you—you would take me home, to my children? They are in the ayllu of Curicuillor, at Titicaca—you will take me back to them?”
“I am afraid the precise meaning of the word is beyond me,” Hammond added, to his translation. “I understood it to mean family, but that does not seem to be quite correct under the circumstances.”
“In any case, tell him we will do so gladly,” Laurence said, “if he can direct us; where is it?”
“Lake Titicaca; that is in the highlands near Cusco,” the dragon Palta said, “and nearly two-weeks’ flying in bad air; really you had better leave him with me, as you don’t want him yourselves.”
“Two weeks’ flying?” Granby said, dismayed, when Temeraire had translated. “I suppose I ought to have expected you to have seized upon a fellow whose nearest relations are on the other side of the country,” he added to Iskierka, “but what is he doing here, then?” and meanwhile Hammond, as always fixed without any evidence of mercy upon his ultimate purpose, raised immediate and urgent objection.
“We cannot simply go flying about the countryside without permission, at such a distance,” he said. “Even if such an incursion were not to provoke a hostile answer—which, Captain,” he added, “should scarcely permit us to be of any use to the poor fellow in any case—”
“You need not study to persuade me, Mr. Hammond; I agree we must first present ourselves, even as we are, to some nearer authority,” Laurence said. “That, therefore, must be our next concern; afterwards—”
“Perhaps we may find some local traveling in that direction, who might take the gentleman with him,” Hammond said, an optimism not much supported by the distances involved. Laurence was sure that unless such a lucky chance befell, Hammond would soon be arguing for pursuing the mission instead: and he was forced to admit such an argument would be cogent indeed, considering the loss of time a side journey of that distance would involve.
“Anyway,” Temeraire said, turning his head to them after interrogating the little dragon further, “we may ask the governor what to do: Palta says his name is Hualpa Uturuncu, and he lives in a city called Talcahuano.”
“THE DISTANCE IS OF NO GREAT MOMENT,” Governor Hualpa said, when Temeraire had explained their difficulty. “The theft, however, most certainly is.”
They were all of them inside the ceremonial hall of the city, a splendid building many times the size of the pyramid which they had seen on the shore, although in the same style, with enormously broad stepped platforms made of great blocks of stone so snugly fitted one could only see the separations by looking very closely indeed. And inside, oh, inside! The walls were entirely covered with sheets of gold beaten thin and elaborately engraved, lit by many lamps and by windows cut in the roof, which allowed in great shafts of illumination when the sun was high enough.
One of the sailors had gone over to the wall and rubbed it, before being sharply called back to his place by Forthing: Temeraire had overheard him say, “Real enough gold, it is,” in a low voice to his fellows, so it was not merely brass—even though brass would have been almost equally marvelous; Temeraire would not have argued with anyone who had proposed to offer him such panels made of brass, for his pavilion.
The setting made it only the more distressing to find themselves so unkempt and ragged. Laurence had held them back a day to scrub clean in the river and mend their clothes as best they could before entering the city and presenting themselves to Hualpa, but there was only so much one could do with cold water and a few bent needles. Temeraire had tried to persuade Laurence to wear his robes for the meeting, as Emily had those safe preserved, but without success; and no-one else had anything but what they wore.
He could understand, of course, Laurence’s wish to share in the general privation, but when Temeraire had ducked his head under the lintel of the massive doorway and come inside, and his eyes had adjusted to the grandeur before him, he had regretted it all over again, and still more when the governor had come out to meet them: Hualpa was not so long as Temeraire himself, but not very much shorter, either, and his feathered scales ruffled up so wide about his neck and shoulders that he seemed somehow larger than he was.