it was a very great relief to let off his last load of men and supply. temeraire understood the necessity of moving as quickly as napoleon, of course, and if he had been disposed to doubt it, perscitia's calculations showed plainly how quickly the difference of thirty miles a day, even if it seemed only a few hours' flying, would add up day by day. but it was so very tedious to be going back and forth on these short hopping flights, an hour in the air, then letting men off, then flying directly back to have another load put on. it was impossible to fly quickly or freely with men clinging aboard to the makeshift rigging, and then there was all the unpleasantness of their dirt. his own crew were well able to handle such matters without getting him spattered, even little roland, and since the passengers were only an hour or two at most aboard at a time, temeraire felt it was not too much to ask that they show some restraint, even if they were crammed aboard. but some of them simply could not manage it, and if he only dived a little to catch a better air current, or twisted to keep on an updraft, he was sure to be soiled. all very well to say, he had scales; it would take a week of bathing before he felt at all clean again.

but the lake was frozen solid, so for the moment he had to content himself with rolling in the thick snow on one of the neighboring hills, until he was wet and cold all over. the encampment had been going up all day as they delivered men by air, and by now the officers were coming up the hill in irregular clusters to eat in the citadel, leaving their horses stabled away at the foot. loch laggan had an ample herd, and all of them having eaten, the unharnessed dragons began to circle down, negotiating with complex aerial maneuvers their respective landing places on the hill, whether within the desirable courtyard or near it, or in the clearings farther out.

"do you suppose," temeraire said to laurence in an undertone, as he settled himself gladly down onto the deliciously baking-hot stones, "do you suppose that celeritas will have forgiven me, for lying?" he put his head up over the squirming of dragons: middle-weights trying to fit themselves between and around him and requiescat and ballista, and armatius, who smugly had claimed a place, with the other heavy-weights, thanks to gentius drowsing yet upon his back. the light-weights and couriers were perched up on the walls and battlements, waiting for the outmatched middle-weights to give up before they began their own squabble over who would have a place.

majestatis had ignored all the struggle, and taken himself a place just on the other side of the courtyard wall, to the south; temeraire could hear perscitia arguing with him indignantly. "you ought to go take a place in the courtyard," she said.

"i am very comfortable here," majestatis returned placidly.

"you would be more comfortable in the courtyard," perscitia said, "and you can have a place there if you only make a little push for one: you do not need this one."

"but i like this one, and i did not have to push to have it," he said. "the ground is warm."

she gave a sulky hiss. "i dare say you do not even know why."

"the hot water for the baths runs under this part of the hillside, too," majestatis said.

there was a brief silence. "yes," perscitia said, "it must, because this is the lower side of the slope, and it must drain away somewhere, but how did you know that?"

"there is steam coming out of that crack in the ground there."

"oh," she muttered.

"i am going to sleep now," majestatis informed her. "i don't mind if you want to share."

"i do not want to share," perscitia said, but a low deep rumbling breath was the only reply, and after another fit of grumbling she evidently reconciled herself: both of them were audible in their snores before the rest of the quarreling had even resolved itself into a settled order for the courtyard.

but there was no sign of celeritas. the old training master did not sleep in the courtyard himself, of course, but in a private mountain-side cave; but he might come out to see them all, temeraire thought, with some anxiety. he was not easy about having lied to celeritas, when they had come to steal the mushrooms, and he had never had the chance to apologize properly. he was quite sure celeritas would have understood and approved of the mission - at least, he was as sure as he could be, because anyone could take an odd start; but celeritas might still be angry over being lied to and tricked into having let them in, unchallenged.

"he is not here anymore," a winchester said: not anyone temeraire knew, a small bright-eyed courier-beast, in harness; he was perched upon the wall behind them, out of the way of the confusion with all the new dragons coming in. "i think he has gone to the breeding grounds in ireland."

"but whyever would celeritas go to the breeding grounds," temeraire protested; the little winchester only fluttered out his wings in a shrug. "it is very boring in the breeding grounds," temeraire said to laurence. "i do not understand why he should have left his post here."

laurence did not say anything for a moment, and then he said, oddly without conviction, "perhaps he grew tired of the work."

he said nothing else, nothing more reassuring, and temeraire looked at him sidelong: laurence was sitting upon one of the low benches by the wall, looking again at the gold ring which he had brought back from london. he had not said where it had come from, and temeraire felt a little shy of pressing him. laurence seemed so very unhappy, and temeraire did not understand properly why: they were together, not pent up anywhere, and soon they would have a splendid battle to take back their territory; and then the government would pay them money. so there was nothing to be sorry about, except perhaps that they had retreated in the first place; but the rest would make up for that.

temeraire sighed, and informed the squabbling reapers, "you had all better leave some room. maximus must be here soon, and the rest of the corps; and ought not lily be here already?"

laurence raised his head. "they all ought," he said. "they were ahead of us."

he went into the citadel to try and find out where the others were, from the other officers; and meanwhile chalcedony and gladius and cantarella finally won out over the other reapers and settled themselves down, so the grey coppers and the winchesters and the ferals could now squeeze themselves in amongst the rest, and then they were all warm and snug on the heated stones. moncey and minnow had settled themselves on temeraire's back; he felt quite comfortable, ready for a proper drowse, and then the papillon noir raised his head and said, "how pleasant it is here! it is almost as nice as the pavilions the emperor has built for us in paris."

he spoke in english, with a curious accent, and many of the other dragons pricked up in interest. "those are much larger, of course," the papillon continued, "so no-one has to sleep outside if they do not want to; and there is a charming little stream which runs past them, so if one wants a drink, one only has to stretch out one's neck. but these are just as warm; at least, if it is not raining, or snowing." a little drifting snow was indeed coming down in that moment, and slicking the stone.

"i expect," temeraire said, rather coolly, "that he is imitating the pavilions from china, which are very splendid."

"yes, exactly," the papillon said enthusiastically, "although madame lien says, he has made them even nicer. and we each have a box at the pavilions, where we can put our treasure, and the palace guard keeps watch over it when we are not there."

"hum, and i suppose they don't take it," gentius said, skeptically, cracking one luridly orange eye.

"no, never," the papillon said. "i have three gold chains and a ruby there, and they are always just as i have left them; the guards will even polish them for me, if i ask them."

everyone was very wide awake now, at "three gold chains and a ruby." "i have earned them," the papillon said, seeing he had his audience, "by helping to build some roads, and for some fighting: and i have been promoted to captain for it, see," and showed off a handsome badge pinned to his harness: a round disk of some shining metal. "so can anyone, who likes to serve the emperor," he added, significantly.

temeraire laid back his ruff. "certainly, if they do not mind helping someone who goes about stealing other people's territory, when he already has plenty of his own, and kills heaps of men and dragons to do it," he said coldly. "anyway, we are getting pay, too; and i have been made colonel."

"i congratulate you!" the papillon said. "how much have you been paid so far?" when temeraire had made an awkward, sputtering explanation, the papillon went on, "well, i am sure the emperor would pay you right away, and give you even higher rank, then."

there was a low thoughtful murmur going around. temeraire put his head sidelong to nudge roland, who was grudgingly doing lessons with demane and sipho - less of her own volition than at sipho's insistence: he was beginning to outstrip her as well as his older brother, as roland had never been very interested in studying. "you had better go and tell laurence, that the french dragon is making all sorts of promises, which i am sure are lies, if only we would agree to serve napoleon; and pray let him come and put a stop to it," he finished plaintively; he did not know how to answer the french dragon, who after all was offering just what he himself had asked for; except he did not want it from napoleon, who had invaded england and made so much trouble for everyone, and who let lien do as she liked.

"oh, i will go at once," roland said, with relief, and left; demane said, "i will go too," and went after her.

"but who is going to check my work," sipho called after them unhappily.

laurence had not gone farther than the great hall of the citadel: many officers were standing in scattered clumps, talking in low voices that the great vaulted ceiling blended with echoes into hollow unintelligible murmur, and he hesitated in the entryway a moment: few faces he knew, and fewer he chose to impose himself upon; then he saw riley, in a corner of the room.

riley wore a look half-dazed with exhaustion, and he said wholly tactlessly, "hello, laurence, i thought you were in prison," in a tone more puzzled than condemnatory. "i have a son," he added.

"give you joy," laurence said, and shook his hand, ignoring the rest of the remark: riley gave it full willingly to be shaken, and gave no sign he noticed the omission. "is catherine well?"

"i haven't the faintest notion," riley said. "the lot of them took off like a shot for the coast three days ago, and she insisted she could not be spared, if you will credit it: thank god we had already found a wet-nurse from the village, or i dare say she would have gone anyway, and let the child starve. do you know, they must be fed every two hours?"

he did not know why the dragons had gone or where; what little attention he had to spare from the new child was devoted to the allegiance: he had left her in dry-dock in plymouth, recovering from their voyage to africa, and with bonaparte and his army now between him and the port, he fretted about her fate. "i am sure the navy will keep him out of plymouth," he said, "i am sure of it; but if he should somehow get a hold on the whole south, then - "

"sir," emily said, and laurence looked down; she was panting at his elbow, and demane beside her. "sir, temeraire sent me - very well, us - to tell you: that french dragon in the courtyard is preaching sedition, and trying to bribe everyone to go over to the emperor, with pavilions and jewels and such: he can speak english."

"where is the envoy?" laurence asked riley. "do you know who they have sent?"

"talleyrand," riley said.

the conference was under way upstairs, in the little-used library chamber; wellesley had gone to join the discussion, directly on their arrival, and he was, laurence thought, the best hope of finding a senior officer who would appreciate the threat. but the room was barred off by guards and aides, among them ten frenchmen in uniform like cavalry officers but altered for flying with long coats made of leather and heavy gloves in their belts. laurence did not know how he might get word inside, until he caught sight of rowley and called to him.

rowley's personal disdain had not subsided, but he had just seen a month shortened to two weeks, on dragon-back, and though unsmiling he heard laurence out, and said shortly, "very well; come with me," and took him into the room by the side door.

talleyrand had not come alone: he sat along one side of a long table, laid on for the occasion, with a marshal sitting beside him: murat, bonaparte's brother-in-law. an odd pair: talleyrand's long aristocratic face under his thinning fair hair almost washed out and pale next to murat, who had thick curly hair and bright blue eyes in a face ruddy with weather and work, above a powerful frame: in his person every inch the soldier. murat's clothing was of almost absurd splendor, seen close up: a coat of black leather with gold embroidery and gold buttons, over snowy stock and shirt, with gloves of black leather and gold on the table beside him; talleyrand's of an elegance more quiet and correct.

opposite them sat half-a-dozen ministers, in nothing like the same state, all of them marked with the long and hasty retreat from london, and the discomfort they must have felt at being, effectively, in a military camp: perceval, the prime minister, looked especially drawn and unhappy. his ministry was a shaky and doubtful matter to begin with, a collection of lesser evils and men he had cajoled into their posts: his predecessor lord portland's government had collapsed under the weight of the disaster in africa, and the old man had refused to try and build another. canning, the last foreign secretary, had tried for the post himself and, failing, had both refused to join the new ministry himself, and blocked the secretary of war lord castlereagh's joining it: leaving perceval to make do with lord bathurst and lord liverpool; good men, but now more than any other time he needed the most gifted there might be, and though lord bathurst had been sympathetic to the cause of abolition, laurence could not but acknowledge he was not the man anyone would choose to have sitting across from talleyrand at the negotiating table.

lord mulgrave, the first lord of the admiralty, had preserved his post; dalrymple sat with him, an old fat soldier, and neither of them looking a match for the marshal. the weight of power and energy and composure was all on one side of the table: all the refinement and sophistication of the ancien regime married to the brutal strength of the empire. wellesley only, sitting at the other end beside lord liverpool, did not look half-defeated; and he instead was in a glittering temper: his jaw set coldly.

rowley bent to whisper in his ear; wellesley looked at laurence and then leaned forward and interrupted the conversation going on in french to say, "what the devil is this? you come here under cover of a flag of truce, and meanwhile your dragon is in the courtyard trying to bribe our beasts with trinkets?"

murat exclaimed at the accusation, and said, "i am sure there has been some misunderstanding. liberte has much enthusiasm, but he would never mean to so offend - "

"i am sure general wellesley does not mean any insult." lord eldon jumped in with apologies. "surely your highness" - bonaparte was fond of making his family princes - "must be familiar with the frank address of soldiers - "

talleyrand watched all the discussion with half-lidded eyes, which flicked to laurence a moment. he leaned back to one of his aides with a quick curled finger for a whispered consultation; then when the first exchange had died down, intervened to say, "perhaps marshal murat and i will go and have words with liberte, to ensure there is no more confusion: we have been speaking long, and a little rest, a little time, would do well for all of us." he pushed himself awkwardly to his feet, bringing the rest out of their chairs, and leaning a little towards perceval said, "i hope we will have an opportunity to speak again; this evening?"

bowing precedence to murat, he let the marshal leave the room, and limping out after him paused at the door to turn to laurence and say, in a clear carrying voice, "allow me to express again the thanks of his imperial majesty's government, monsieur laurence; and to assure you that you have a claim on the gratitude of france which the emperor has not forgotten."

the graceful words cut him worse than knives. it was a pain dealt incidentally, laurence was bitterly sure: talleyrand had aimed rather at the ministers at the table, to discredit any report which laurence might be bringing them. "your government, monsieur," laurence said, "owes me nothing; i did not act for their sake."

talleyrand only smiled gently, and half-bowed again before he left the room.

"by god, the impudence," wellesley said savagely, scarcely waiting until the door had shut, and in no low voice. "that arrogant pig - son of an innkeeper and a whore, and married to another; that, to be king of britain - "

"they have made no such suggestion," lord eldon began; he was lord chancellor, having risen to the peerage as a notable lawyer, and thence to the tory government for his steadfast opposition to catholic emancipation.

"do you imagine any of that upstart parvenu's circle mean to be content with something as mealy-mouthed as governorship?" wellesley said. "give him six months, and it will be king murat, as soon as he has taken the army and the navy to pieces."

"no, the terms are unacceptable," perceval said, without great conviction. "but these are a beginning position - "

"they are an insult from first to last," wellesley said, "and ought to be rejected out of hand."

"one of his proposals, at least," another minister interjected, "gentlemen, i beg we consider, on its own merits, apart from any other: may i urge that a swift decision indeed be taken to send their majesties to halifax, with all haste and all necessary considerations for their security?"

"defeatist nonsense," wellesley snapped. "bonaparte is not coming anywhere near scotland before spring, no matter what we do."

"all our scouts report his soldiers are all over the north of england already."

"foraging," wellesley said, "in small parties. we have two dozen outposts and garrisoned castles between london and edinburgh, and he cannot march his army past them."

"surely the least risk ought not be run. bonaparte went from berlin to warsaw on the eve of winter - "

"because half the garrison commanders threw up their arms and surrendered at nothing more than a fanfare at their gates. i have more faith in our officers than that."

"the king is not a young man," perceval said, breaking into the increasing heat of wellesley's exchange with the minister, "nor in the best of health - "

"no-one proposes he should expose himself upon the battlefield," wellesley said, "but he can still address the troops."

perceval paused, and heavily, quietly said, "the king is not in the best of health."

no-one spoke a moment; then someone said to wellesley, in a conciliating tone, "if the prince of wales stays; or prince william, and the king goes - "

wellesley shrugged it away, a tight angry motion. "if you are determined to send him away, send him; and if you mean to give away his throne, too, make a parcel of it with whatever else these snakes are asking for, and let them preach sedition to the troops direct; why not?"

"come, general wellesley, this is surely overreaction - "

"if you believe for an instant they did not know perfectly well what the beast was about - "

"i hope we are not going to be distracted by some notion that talleyrand, if not bonaparte himself, seriously concocted a plan of subterfuge to be carried out by one dragon among others," eldon said. "i have heard the idle chatter of the beasts; let us not read into it conscious and deliberate intent - "

"sir," laurence said, and bore the looks which he received for having the temerity to interject, "perhaps you are not aware that dragons learn their tongue in the shell, and do not ordinarily acquire another; it cannot be by coincidence that they brought a beast which could speak english, and easily communicate anything to our own."

"so let them be fed a second time, and it will drive any seditious thoughts out of their heads, if any managed to get in," eldon said. "what else could bonaparte possibly offer the creatures anyway?"

"respect, if nothing else," laurence said. "if you cannot see the neglect and disdain with which they have been treated has left them open to the meanest approach, the least offer of courtesy and reward - "

"that is enough from you, laurence," lord mulgrave said icily. "you have done more good for bonaparte than talleyrand and murat and any ten yammering dragons could achieve here, if we gave them every opportunity in the world."

laurence flinched, and hoped he did not show it. mulgrave had approved the fatal plan to send the sick dragon to france, in the first place; he had led the inquiry where laurence had learned of it by accident; he had chosen the men for the court-martial, and personally overseen it, with deep venom.

"a man may be a wild enthusiast even without being a traitor," mulgrave said, "and you are both; if you have been allowed to live a little longer, by counsel other than mine, you are certainly the last man on whom anyone of sense would rely."

wellesley said sharply, "this is the distraction; and i dare say if talleyrand could listen in he would congratulate himself on its success. sir," he said to perceval, "throw him out, i beg of you, and murat with him. every minute that flag of parley sits before the eyes of the army, you cut a little more of the heart out of my men. we ought to be speaking of the counterattack, not debating terms of surrender: that is what these are, however you like to dress them up."

"general wellesley, you and general dalrymple will forgive my bluntness," lord liverpool said, breaking in, "but unpleasant as these terms are, we may find them preferable to the ones he offers us in march. - i hope my remarks are taken as no reflection upon the army. it is a plain fact that bonaparte has beaten every army that ever took the field against him, the russians, the austrians, the prussians, the turks, and we ourselves. it seems to me we might well agree to whatever he wants, so long as the army and the navy are preserved a little while, and the king is safe; anything that will get him out of london and back to paris. then we can manage murat - "

"are you - " wellesley cut himself off, and in a flat tone said, "while bonaparte is in england, we can end this with a single victory - not only the invasion, but the war, this whole ten years and more of conflict. the last we want is to see him go; the only damned thing to be thankful for is he has put himself in our reach. in a month we will have fifty thousand men here; at edinburgh another sixty, and a hundred and fifty fighting beasts, on our own ground; in a month - "

"half the grande armee is sitting on the coast of france waiting their turn to come over for a share," eldon said. "in a month, bonaparte will have two hundred thousand men, or more."

"no, he shan't." the door banged, and jane roland came in, stripping off her bloody gauntlets: more blood streaked her face and hair, and stained her coat. "what?" she said to their startled questions, and looked at herself in the glass on the wall. "oh, i look a fright. no, it isn't any of mine, i suppose it is that poor damned frenchman's: i broke a sword on the fellow."

she took the glass of brandy anxiously offered her anyway, and drank it off straight. "thank you, sir," she said, setting it down, "that puts life in one's breast. i beg your pardon, gentlemen, for coming in my dirt: i am fresh from the coast. he tried another landing at folkestone: but he did not have as much luck as he would have liked, i imagine. we have settled his trick of harpooning: our smiths have give us some sharp wire, and by twos the courier-captains can cut up the ropes in a trice. here are dispatches," she added, as frette, trotting in behind her, laid packets down on the table in front of mr. perceval, "from admiral collingwood: taken six, sunk four, burnt two, of ships-of-the-line; and not a thousand men landed of sixty."

the noise her intelligence produced was extraordinary both in volume and in the change of tone, out of proportion perhaps to a victory that only left them no worse off, than they had been before. but even a small taste was sweet to those who had been so long deprived; eldon was silenced, and wellesley sprang up to shake her hand, before he had quite realized what he did.

"so he cannot bring over any more - how many men does he have, now?" perceval said, urgently.

"he can still bring them by air, at night," jane put in. "we can patrol, and so can the navy, but we won't catch every fleur-de-nuit that slips over the channel: they can carry as many as two hundred at a shot."

"he may send ten of them every night for me," wellesley said. "he cannot make up more than our forces, before we are ready to meet him. sir - gentlemen," he said, turning to sweep his eye over all the table, "no war was won at the conference table, but many have there been lost. let me not see this a room of cowards, but of britons. give me your confidence and a hundred thousand men, and i do not fear bonaparte. will you?"

there was a pause; several men looked at dalrymple. "perhaps, a joint command - " one man started.

"no," wellesley said, cutting him off short. "if you have not faith in me, choose another man."

the silence fell again, a moment's hesitation, but wellesley had chosen his moment well; the glow of victory, of success, yet lingered, and carried the day: perceval stood and put his hands flat on the table. "so be it. lord bathurst, you will inform our guests the parley is at an end. general wellesley, you have the command, and may god be with you."

not a minute later, wellesley was halfway down the corridor outside, saying, "a wretched waste of time and spirit, but at least it is over, and no irreparable harm done. roland, i need a hundred dragons, for transport - "

"i can't hand you off a hundred beasts when i have five hundred miles of coastline to watch," jane said, matching his stride.

"i have another thirty thousand men to get here, and forty to edinburgh," wellesley snapped.

"tell me where the men are to be found and where you want them landed, and i will contrive," she said, "with what dragons are on patrol, in flying distance."

"well enough." he gave her a curt nod. "rowley, get her the list of garrisons," he said, over his shoulder. "tell me, what sort of supply do you imagine bonaparte needs?"

"for the beasts? a hundred bullocks a day," jane said. "more if he is heavy on fighting-weight beasts, and they are working for their supper. he is managing it, though: has foragers out, of course; and we have fewer dragons south of the mountains to eat up the supply."

he nodded. "very good. i must get to edinburgh, and get the rest of this army into order - "

"wellesley," jane said, "before you go, you will pardon me for saying: i can put the men wherever you need them; but i can't make bonaparte come and meet you there. he is pretty well dug in at london, now, and come spring we are going to begin to have some trouble with supply ourselves. scotland's herds can't support this number of dragons forever: we will be eating into the breeding stock."

he shot her a hard look. "you will oblige me," he said, "by not mentioning that particular difficulty in front of their lordships. damn, but i miss castlereagh!"

she snorted. "i don't need a lecture on managing politicos who don't know a damned thing about my business."

"no, i imagine not," wellesley said, grudgingly. "well, bring me the army, and let me worry how to get the corsican out of london."

returning to the courtyard, laurence found temeraire in glad convocation with maximus and lily, also freshly returned from the coast: the two had unceremoniously displaced several disgruntled yellow reapers and a much-offended ballista to claim places on the warm stones beside him.

"yes, the egg is hatched," lily was saying, "but it is not much use to anyone: only lies there and squalls all day, and i do not like the way it smells, not," she added loyally, "that any of that is catherine's fault: i am sure that awful sailor is to blame. i ought never have let him marry her, and now she cannot even make him divorce her."

harcourt was standing by them, with berkley, but laurence did not hesitate to approach, even inwardly: too weary and too soiled to dread anymore yet another awkward m-->>

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