Naomi Novik - Tongues of Serpents

“It is a pity no-one has tried keeping elephants,” Temeraire said.

“Ha ha, keeping elephants, very good,” MacArthur said, as if this were some sort of a joke. “Do elephants make good eating?”

“Excellently good,” Temeraire said. “I have not had an elephant since we were in Africa: I do not think I have tasted anything quite so good as a properly cooked elephant; outside of China, that is,” he added loyally, “where I do not think they can raise them. But it seems as though this would be perfectly good country for them: it is certainly as hot as ever it was in Africa, where they raised them. Anyway we will need more food for the hatchlings, soon.”

“Well, I have brought sheep, but I did not much think of bringing over elephants,” MacArthur said, looking at the three eggs with an altered expression. “How much would a dragon eat, do you suppose, in the way of cattle?”

“Maximus will eat two cows when he can get them, in a day,” Temeraire said, “but I do not think that is very healthy; I would not eat more than one, unless of course I have been fighting, or flying far; or if I were very particularly hungry.”

“Two cows a day, and soon to be five of you?” MacArthur said. “The Lord safe preserve us.”

“If this has brought you to a better understanding of the necessity of addressing the situation, sir,” Laurence said, rather pointedly Temeraire thought, “I must be grateful for your visit; we have had very little cooperation heretofore in making our arrangements from Major Johnston.”

MacArthur put down his chocolate-cup. “I was speaking last night, I think,” he said, “of what a man can make of himself, in this country; it is a subject dear to my heart, and I hope I did not ramble on it too long. It is a hard thing, you will understand, Mr. Laurence, to see a country like this: begging for hands, for the plowshare and the till, and no-one to work it but an army of the worst slackabouts born of woman lying about, complaining if they are given less than their day’s half-gallon of rum, and they would take it at ten in the morning, if they could get it.

“In the Corps, we may not be very pretty, but we know how to work; I believe the Aerial Corps, too, might be given such a character by some,” MacArthur went on. “And we know how to make men work. Whatever has been built in this country, we ha’e built it, and to have a—perhaps I had better hold my tongue; I think you have been shipmates with Governor Bligh?”

“I would not say we were shipmates,” Temeraire put in; he did not care to be saddled with such a relationship. “He came aboard our ship, but no-one much wanted him; only one must be polite.”

Laurence looked a bit rueful, and MacArthur, smiling, said, “Well, I won’t say anything against the gentleman, only perhaps he was no too fond of our ways. The which,” he added, “certainly can be improved upon, Mr. Laurence, I do not deny it; but no man likes to be corrected by come-lately.”

“When come-lately is sent by the King,” Laurence said, “one may dislike, and yet endure.”

“Very good sense; but good sense has limits, sir, limits,” MacArthur said, “where it comes up hard against honor: some things a man of courage cannot bear, and damn the consequences.”

Laurence did not say anything; Laurence was quite silent. After a moment, MacArthur added, “I do not mean to make you excuses: I have sent my eldest on to England, though I could spare him ill, and he must make my case to their Lordships. But I will tell you, I do not tremble, sir, for fear of the answer; I sleep the night through.”

Temeraire became conscious gradually, while he spoke, of being poked; Emily was at his side, tugging energetically on his wing-tip. “Temeraire!” she hissed up to him. “I oughtn’t go right up with that fellow there, he is sure to see I am a girl; but we must tell the captain, there is a ship come from England—”

“I see her!” Temeraire answered, looking over into the harbor: a trim, handsome little frigate of perhaps twenty-four guns: she was drawn up not far from the Allegiance , riding easily at anchor. “Laurence,” he said, leaning over, “there is a ship come from England, Roland says: it is the Beatrice , I think.”

MacArthur stopped speaking, abruptly.

Emily tugged again. “That is not the news,” she said, impatient. “Captain Rankin is on it.”

“Oh! whyever should he have come?” Temeraire said, his ruff pricking up. “Is he a convict?” Without waiting for an answer, he turned his head to the other side. “And Roland says that Rankin is here, on the ship: that dreadful fellow from Loch Laggan. You may certainly put him in a quarry,” he added to MacArthur. “I cannot think of anyone who deserves it more, the way he treated poor Levitas.”

“Oh, why won’t you listen,” Roland cried. “He ain’t a convict at all; he has come for one of the eggs.”

“O WING TO THE MODE of our last communication, it is quite impossible Mr. Laurence and I should have any intercourse. —I hope I may not be thought difficult,” Rankin said, his crisp and aristocratic vowels carrying quite clearly, over the deck of the Allegiance; his transport the Beatrice had already gone away again, with no more news for the colony: she had left only two months after the Allegiance herself, and the news of the rebellion had not yet reached Government. “But it is generally accepted, I believe, that the dragondeck is reserved for officers of the Corps; and if the gentleman is quartered towards the stern, I see no reason why any inconvenient scenes should arise.”

“I see no reason why I shouldn’t push his nose in for him,” Granby said, under his breath, joining Laurence on the leeward side of the quarterdeck, where passengers were ordinarily allowed liberty. “The worst of it,” he added, “is I can’t see any way clear to refusing him: the orders are plain black on white, he is to be put to Wringe’s egg. What a damned waste.”

Laurence nodded a little; he, too, had had a letter, if not in an official capacity.… though nothing would I like better than if he should get himself sunk in the Ocean on his way to you , Jane had written.

… but his damnd Family have been squalling at their Lordships for nigh on Five Years now, and he had the infernal Bad Luck—mine, that is—of finding himself in Scotland, lately, when we were so overset: went up with one of the Ferals out of Arkady’s pack, saw a little fighting, and mannaged to get himself wounded again .

So I must give him a Beast, or at least a Chance of one , and Someone must put up with him thereafter; as I am about to have twenty-six hatchlings to feed and likely enough a War in Spain, I don’t scruple to say, Better You Than Me .

This last was emphatically full of capitals, and underlined.

I have made the Excuse, that this is the first Egg we have had out of the Ferals, and his having Experience of them in the field, should be an Advantage in its Training .

I was tolrably transparent, I think, but a Title does wonderful things, Laurence: I should have contrivved one much sooner if I had known its Use. Gentlemen who swore at me like fishwives sixmonth ago are become sweet as milk, all because the Regent has signed some scrap of paper for me, and nod their Heads and say Yes, Very Good, when before they would have argued to Doomsday if I should say, It is coming on to rain. Also it is a great benefit they none of them know whether to say Milady or Sir, and as soon as they have arrived at a Decision, they change it again. I only hope they may not make me a Duchess to make themselves easy by saying Your Grace; it would not suit half so well .