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"if use can make men stop being afraid, i do not see why we should be kept penned up so they may continue to be frightened," temeraire said.
to this laurence could make no answer, and did not try; instead he retreated to his own room to take a little dinner; temeraire lay down for his customary afternoon nap in a brooding, restless coil, while laurence sat alone, picking unenthusiastically over his plate. hammond came to inquire after what they had seen; laurence answered him as briefly as he could, his irritation of spirit ill-concealed, and in short order hammond went away rather flushed and thin-lipped.
"has that fellow been pestering you?" granby said, looking in.
"no," laurence said tiredly, getting up to rinse his hands in the basin he had filled from the pond. "indeed, i am afraid i was plainly rude to him just now, and he did not deserve it in the least: he was only curious how they raise the dragons here, so he could argue with them that temeraire's treatment in england has not been so ill."
"well, as far as i am concerned he deserved a trimming," granby said. "i could have pulled out my hair when i woke up and he told me smug as a deacon that he had packed you off alone with some chinaman; not that temeraire would let any harm come to you, but anything could happen in a crowd, after all."
"no, nothing of the kind was attempted at all; our guide was a little rude to begin, but perfectly civil by the end." laurence glanced over at the bundles stacked in the corner, where zhao wei's men had left them. "i begin to think hammond was right, john; and it was all old-maid flutters and imagination," he said, unhappily; it seemed to him, after the long day's tour, that the prince hardly needed to stoop to murder, with the many advantages of his country to serve as gentler and no less persuasive arguments.
"more likely yongxing gave up trying aboard ship, and has just been waiting to get you settled in under his eyes," granby said pessimistically. "this is a nice enough cottage, i suppose, but there are a damned lot of guards skulking about."
"all the more reason not to fear," laurence said. "if they meant to kill me, they could have done so by now, a dozen times over."
"temeraire would hardly stay here if the emperor's own guards killed you, and him already suspicious," granby said. "most like he would do his best to kill the lot of them, and then i hope find the ship again and go back home; though it takes them very hard, losing a captain, and he might just as easily go and run into the wild."
"we can argue ourselves in circles this way forever." laurence lifted his hands impatiently and let them drop again. "at least today, the only wish which i saw put in action was to make a desirable impression upon temeraire." he did not say that this goal had been thoroughly accomplished and with little effort; he did not know how to draw a contrast against the treatment of dragons in the west without sounding at best a complainer and at worst nearly disloyal: he was conscious afresh that he had not been raised an aviator, and he was unwilling to say anything that might wound granby's feelings.
"you are a damned sight too quiet," granby said, unexpectedly, and laurence gave a guilty start: he had been sitting and brooding in silence. "i am not surprised he took a liking to the city, he is always on fire for anything new; but is it that bad?"
"it is not only the city," laurence said finally. "it is the respect which is given to dragons; and not only to himself: they all of them have a great deal of liberty, as a matter of course. i think i saw a hundred dragons at least today, wandering through the streets, and no one took any notice of them."
"and god forbid we should take a flight over regent's park but we have shrieks of murder and fire and flood all at once, and ten memoranda sent us from the admiralty," granby agreed, with a quick flash of resentment. "not that we could set down in london if we wanted to: the streets are too narrow for anything bigger than a winchester. from what we have seen even just from the air, this place is laid out with a good deal more sense. it is no wonder they have ten beasts to our one, if not more."
laurence was deeply relieved to find granby taking no offense against him, and so willing to discuss the subject. "john, do you know, here they do not assign handlers until the dragon is fifteen months of age; until then they are raised by other dragons."
"well, that seems a rotten waste to me, letting dragons sit around nursemaiding," granby said. "but i suppose they can afford it. laurence, when i think what we could do with a round dozen of those big scarlet fellows that they have sitting around getting fat everywhere; it makes you weep."
"yes; but what i meant to say was, they seem not to have any ferals at all," laurence said. "is it not one in ten that we lose?"
"oh, not nearly so many, not in modern times," granby said. "we used to lose longwings by the dozen, until queen elizabeth had the bright idea of setting her serving-maid to one and we found they would take to girls like lambs, and then it turned out the xenicas would, too. and winchesters often used to nip off like lightning before you could get a stitch of harness on them, but nowadays we hatch them inside and let them flap about for a bit before bringing out the food. not more than one in thirty, at the most, if you do not count the eggs we lose in the breeding grounds: the ferals already there hide them from us sometimes."
their conversation was interrupted by a servant; laurence tried to wave the man away, but with apologetic bows and a tug on laurence's sleeve, he made clear he wished to lead them out to the main dining chamber: sun kai, unexpectedly, had come to take tea with them.
laurence was in no mood for company, and hammond, who joined them to serve as translator, as yet remained stiff and unfriendly; they made an awkward and mostly silent company. sun kai inquired politely about their accommodations, and then about their enjoyment of the country, which laurence answered very shortly; he could not help some suspicion that this might be some attempt at probing temeraire's state of mind, and still more so when sun kai at last came however to the purpose for his visit.
"lung tien qian sends you an invitation," sun kai said. "she hopes you and temeraire will take tea with her tomorrow in the ten thousand lotus palace, in the morning before the flowers open."
"thank you, sir, for bearing the message," laurence said, polite but flat. "temeraire is anxious to know her better." the invitation could hardly be refused, though he was by no means happy to see further lures thrown out to temeraire.
sun kai nodded equably. "she, too, is anxious to know more of her offspring's condition. her judgment carries much weight with the son of heaven." he sipped his tea and added, "perhaps you will wish to tell her of your nation, and the respect which lung tien xiang has won there."
hammond translated this, and then added, quickly enough that sun kai might think it part of the translation of his own words, "sir, i trust you see this is a tolerably clear hint. you must make every effort to win her favor."
"i cannot see why sun kai would give me any advice at all in the first place," laurence said, after the envoy had left them again. "he has always been polite enough, but not what anyone would call friendly."
"well, it's not much advice, is it?" granby said. "he only said to tell her that temeraire is happy: that's hardly something you couldn't have thought of alone, and it makes a polite noise."
"yes; but we would not have known to value her good opinion quite so highly, or think this meeting of any particular importance," hammond said. "no; for a diplomat, he has said a great deal indeed, as much as he could, i imagine, without committing himself quite openly to us. this is most heartening," he added, with what laurence felt was excessive optimism, likely born of frustration: hammond had so far written five times to the emperor's ministers, to ask for a meeting where he might present his credentials: every note had been returned unopened, and a flat refusal had met his request to go out from the island to meet the handful of other westerners in the town.
"she cannot be so very maternal, if she agreed to send him so far away in the first place," laurence said to granby, shortly after dawn the next morning; he was inspecting his best coat and trousers, which he had set out to air overnight, in the early light: his cravat needed pressing, and he thought he had noticed some frayed threads on his best shirt.
"they usually aren't, you know," granby said. "or at least, not after the hatching, though they get broody over the eggs when they are first laid. not that they don't care at all, but after all, a dragonet can take the head off a goat five minutes after it breaks the shell; they don't need mothering. here, let me have that; i can't press without scorching, but i can do up a seam." he took the shirt and needle from laurence and set to repairing the tear in the cuff.
"still, she would not care to see him neglected, i am sure," laurence said. "though i wonder that she is so deeply in the emperor's counsel; i would have imagined that if they sent any celestial egg away, it would only have been of a lesser line. thank you, dyer; set it there," he said, as the young runner came in bearing the hot iron from the stove.
his appearance polished so far as he could manage, laurence joined temeraire in the courtyard; the striped dragon had returned to escort them. the flight was only a short one, but curious: they flew so low they could see small clumps of ivy and rootlings that had managed to establish themselves upon the yellow-tiled roofs of the palace buildings, and see the colors of the jewels upon the mandarins' hats as the ministers went hurrying through the enormous courtyards and walkways below, despite the early hour of the morning.
the particular palace lay within the walls of the immense forbidden city, easily identifiable from aloft: two huge dragon pavilions on either side of a long pond almost choked with water-lilies, the flowers still closed within their buds. wide sturdy bridges spanned the pond, arched high for decoration, and a courtyard flagged with black marble lay to the south, just now being touched with first light.
the yellow-striped dragon landed here and bowed them along; as temeraire padded by, laurence could see other dragons stirring in the early light under the eaves of the great pavilions. an ancient celestial was creeping stiffly out from the bay farthest to the southeast, the tendrils about his jaw long and drooping as mustaches. his enormous ruff was leached of color, and his hide gone so translucent the black was now redly tinted with the color of the flesh and blood beneath. another of the yellow-striped dragons paced him carefully, nudging him occasionally with his nose towards the sun-drenched courtyard; the celestial's eyes were a milky blue, the pupils barely visible beneath the cataracts.
a few other dragons emerged also: imperials rather than celestials, lacking the ruff and tendrils, and with more variety in their hue: some were as black as temeraire, but others a deep indigo-washed blue; all very dark, however, except for lien, who emerged at the same time out of a separate and private pavilion, set back and alone among the trees, and came to the pond to drink. with her white hide, she looked almost unearthly among the rest; laurence felt it would be difficult to fault anyone for indulging in superstition towards her, and indeed the other dragons consciously gave her a wide berth. she ignored them entirely in return and yawned wide and red, shaking her head vigorously to scatter away the clinging drops of water, and then paced away into the gardens in solitary dignity.
qian herself was waiting for them at one of the central pavilions, flanked by two imperial dragons of particularly graceful appearance, all of them adorned with elaborate jewels. she inclined her head courteously and flicked a talon against a standing bell nearby to summon servants; the attending dragons shifted their places to make room for laurence and temeraire on her right, and the human servants brought laurence a comfortable chair. qian made no immediate conversation, but gestured towards the lake; the line of the morning sun was now traveling swiftly northward over the water as the sun crept higher, and the lotus buds were unfolding in almost balletic progression; they numbered literally in the thousands, and made a spectacle of glowing pink color against the deep green of their leaves.
as the last unfurled flowers came to rest, the dragons all tapped their claws against the flagstones in a clicking noise, a kind of applause. now a small table was brought for laurence and great porcelain bowls painted in blue and white for the dragons, and a black, pungent tea poured for them all. to laurence's surprise the dragons drank with enjoyment, even going so far as to lick up the leaves in the bottom of their cups. he himself found the tea curious and over-strong in flavor: almost the aroma of smoked meat, though he drained his cup politely as well. temeraire drank his own enthusiastically and very fast, and then sat back with a peculiar uncertain expression, as though trying to decide whether he had liked it or not.
"you have come a very long way," qian said, addressing laurence; an unobtrusive servant had stepped forward to her side to translate. "i hope you are enjoying your visit with us, but surely you must miss your home?"
"an officer in the king's service must be used to go where he is required, madam," laurence said, wondering if this was meant as a suggestion. "i have not spent more than a sixmonth at my own family's home since i took ship the first time, and that was as a boy of twelve."
"that is very young, to go so far away," qian said. "your mother must have had great anxiety for you."
"she had the acquaintance of captain mountjoy, with whom i served, and we knew his family well," laurence said, and seized the opening to add, "you yourself had no such advantage, i regret, on being parted from temeraire; i would be glad to satisfy you on whatever points i might, if only in retrospect."
she turned her head to the attending dragons. "perhaps mei and shu will take xiang to see the flowers more closely," she said, using temeraire's chinese name. the two imperials inclined their heads and stood up expectantly waiting for temeraire.
temeraire looked a little worriedly at laurence, and said, "they are very nice from here?"
laurence felt rather anxious himself at the prospect of a solitary interview, with so little sense of what might please qian, but he mustered a smile for temeraire and said, "i will wait here with your mother; i am sure you will enjoy them."
"be sure not to bother grandfather or lien," qian added to the imperial dragons, who nodded as they led temeraire away.
the servants refilled his cup and qian's bowl from a fresh kettle, and she lapped at it in a more leisurely way. presently she said, "i understand temeraire has been serving in your army."
there was unmistakably a note of censure in her voice, which did not need translation. "among us, all those dragons who can, serve in defense of their home: that is no dishonor, but the fulfillment of our duty," laurence said. "i assure you we could not value him more highly. there are very few dragons among us: even the least are greatly prized, and temeraire is of the highest order."
she rumbled low and thoughtfully. "why are there so few dragons, that you must ask your most valued to fight?"
"we are a small nation, nothing like your own," laurence said. "only a handful of smaller wild breeds were native to the british isles, when the romans came and began to tame them. since then, by cross-breeding our lines have multiplied, and thanks to careful tending of our cattle herds, we have been able to increase our numbers, but still we cannot support nearly so many as you here possess."
she lowered her head and regarded him keenly. "and among the french, how are dragons treated?"
instinctively laurence was certain british treatment of dragons was superior and more generous than that of any other western nation; but he was unhappily aware he would have considered it also superior to china's, if he had not come and already seen plainly otherwise. a month before, he could easily have spoken with pride of how british dragons were cared for. like all of them, temeraire had been fed and housed on raw meat and in bare clearings, with constant training and little entertainment. laurence thought he might as well brag of raising children in a pigsty to the queen, as speak of such conditions to this elegant dragon in her flower-decked palace. if the french were no better, they were hardly worse; and he would have thought very little of anyone who covered the faults in his own service by blackening another's.
"in ordinary course, the practices in france are much the same as ours, i believe," he said at last. "i do not know what promises were made you, in temeraire's particular case, but i can tell you that emperor napoleon himself is a military man: even as we left england he was in the field, and any dragon who was his companion would hardly remain behind while he went to war."
"you are yourself descended from kings, i understand," qian said unexpectedly, and turning her head spoke to one of the servants, who hurried forward with a long rice-paper scroll and unrolled it upon the table: with amazement, laurence saw it was a copy, in a much finer hand and larger, of the familial chart which he had drawn so long ago at the new year banquet. "this is correct?" she inquired, seeing him so startled.
it had never occurred to him that the information would come to her ears, nor that she would find it of interest. but he at once swallowed any reluctance: he would puff off his consequence to her day and night if it would win her approval. "my family is indeed an old one, and proud; you see i myself have gone into service in the corps, and count it an honor," he said, though guilt pricked at him; certainly no one in the circles of his birth would have called it as much.
qian nodded, apparently satisfied, and sipped again at her tea while the servant carried the chart away again. laurence cast about for something else to say. "if i may be so bold, i think i may with confidence say on behalf of my government that we would gladly agree to whatever conditions the french accepted, on your first sending temeraire's egg to them."
"many considerations besides remain" was all she said in response to this overture, however.
temeraire and the two imperials were already coming back from their walk, temeraire having evidently set a rather hurried pace; at the same time, the white dragon came walking past as she returned to her own quarters with yongxing now by her side, speaking with her in a low voice, one hand affectionately resting upon her side. she walked slowly, so he could keep pace, and also the several attendants trailing reluctantly after burdened with large scrolls and several books: still the imperials held well back and waited to let them pass before coming back into the pavilion.
"qian, why is she that color?" temeraire asked, peeking back out at lien after she had gone by. "she looks so very strange."
"who can understand the workings of heaven?" qian said repressively. "do not be disrespectful. lien is a great scholar; she was chuang-yuan, many years ago, though she did not need to submit to the examinations at all, being a celestial, and also she is your elder cousin. she was sired by chu, who was hatched of xian, as was i."
"oh," temeraire said, abashed. more timidly he asked, "who was my sire?"
"lung qin gao," qian said, and twitched her tail; she looked rather pleased by the recollection. "he is an imperial dragon, and is at present in the south in hangzhou: his companion is a prince of the third rank, and they are visiting the west lake."
laurence was startled to learn celestials could so breed true with imperials: but on his tentative inquiry qian confirmed as much. "that is how our line continues. we cannot breed among ourselves," she said, and added, quite unconscious of how she was staggering him, "there are only myself and lien now, who are female, and besides grandfather and chu, there are only chuan and ming and zhi, and we are all cousins at most."
"only eight of them, altogether?" hammond stared and sat down blankly: as well he might.
"i don't see how they can possibly continue on like that forever," granby said. "are they so mad to keep them only for the emperors, that they'll risk losing the whole line?"
"evidently from time to time a pair of imperials will give birth to a celestial," laurence said, between bites; he was sitting down at last to his painfully late dinner, in his bedroom: seven o'clock and full darkness outside, and he had swelled himself near to bursting with tea in an effort to stave off hunger over the visit which had stretched to many hours. "that is how the oldest fellow there now was born; and he is sire to the lot of them, going back four or five generations."
"i cannot make it out in the least," hammond said, paying no attention to the rest of the conversation. "eight celestials; why on earth would they ever have given him away? surely, at least for breeding - i cannot, i cannot credit it; bonaparte cannot have impressed them so, not secondhand and from a continent away. there must be something else, something which i have not grasped. gentlemen, you will excuse me," he added, distractedly, and rose and left them alone. laurence finished his meal without much appetite and set down his chopsticks.
"she did not say no to our keeping him, at any rate," granby said into the silence, but dismally.
laurence said, after a moment, more to quell his own inner voices, "i could not be so selfish to even try and deny him the pleasure of making the better acquaintance of his own kindred, or learning about his native land."
"it is all stuff and nonsense in the end, laurence," granby said, trying to comfort him. "a dragon won't be parted from his captain for all the gems in araby, and all the calves in christendom, too, for that matter."
laurence rose and went to the window. temeraire had curled up for the night upon the heated courtyard stones once again. the moon had risen, and he was very beautiful to look at in the silver light, with the blossom-heavy trees on either side hanging low above him and a dappled reflection in the pond, all his scales gleaming.
"that is true; a dragon will endure a great deal sooner than be parted from his captain. it does not follow that a decent man would ask it of him," laurence said, very low, and let the curtain fall.