The Temeraire Series Books 1-3: Temeraire, Throne of Jade, Black Powder War. Naomi Novik
he said, patting the dragon’s side.
Having seen them off, Laurence wove through the other dragons and made his way out of the gate. He stopped short on his first clear look at Temeraire; the dragon looked strangely downcast, a marked difference from his happy attitude at the conclusion of the morning’s work, and Laurence hurried to his side. ‘Are you not feeling well?’ Laurence asked, inspecting his jaws, but Temeraire was bloodstained and messy from his meal, and looked to have eaten well. ‘Did something you ate disagree with you?’
‘No, I am perfectly well,’ Temeraire said. ‘It is only— Laurence, I am a proper dragon, am I not?’
Laurence stared; the note of uncertainty in Temeraire’s voice was wholly new. ‘As proper a dragon as there is in the world; what on earth would make you ask such a question? Has anyone said anything unkind to you?’ A quick surge of temper was rising in him already at the mere possibility; the aviators might look at him askance and say what they liked, but he was not going to tolerate anyone making remarks to Temeraire.
‘Oh, no,’ Temeraire said, but in a way that made Laurence doubt the words. ‘No one was unkind, but they could not help noticing, while we were all feeding, that I do not look quite like the rest of them. They are all much more brightly coloured than I am, and their wings do not have so many joins. Also, they have those ridges along their backs, and mine is plain, and I have more talons on my feet.’ He turned and inspected himself as he catalogued these differences. ‘So they looked at me a little oddly, but no one was unkind. I suppose it is because I am a Chinese dragon?’
‘Yes, indeed, and you must recall that the Chinese are counted the most skilled breeders in the world,’ Laurence said firmly. ‘If anything, the others should look to you as their ideal, not the reverse, and I beg you will not for a moment doubt yourself. Only consider how well Celeritas spoke of your flying this morning.’
‘But I cannot breathe fire, or spit acid,’ Temeraire said, settling back down, still with an air of dejection. ‘And I am not as big as Maximus.’ He was quiet for a moment, then added, ‘He and Lily ate first; the rest of us had to wait until after they were done, and then we were allowed to hunt as a group.’
Laurence frowned; it had not occurred to him that dragons would have a system of rank among themselves. ‘My dear, there has never been a dragon of your breed in England, so your precedence has not yet been established,’ he said, trying to find an explanation which would console Temeraire. ‘Also, perhaps it has something to do with the rank of their captains, for you must recall that I have less seniority than any other captain here.’
‘That would be very silly; you are older than most of them are, and have a great deal of experience,’ Temeraire said, losing some of his unhappiness in indignation over the idea of a slight to Laurence. ‘You have won battles, and most of them are only still in training.’
‘Yes, but at sea, and things are very different aloft,’ Laurence said. ‘But it is quite true that precedence and rank are not guarantors of wisdom or good breeding; pray do not take it so to heart. I am sure that when you have been in service a year or two you will be acknowledged as you deserve. But for the moment, did you get enough to eat? We shall return to the feeding grounds at once if not.’
‘Oh, no, there was no shortage,’ Temeraire said. ‘I was able to catch whatever I wanted, and the others did not get in my way very much at all.’
He fell silent, and was clearly still inclined to be dismal; Laurence said, ‘Come, we must see about getting you bathed.’
Temeraire brightened at the prospect, and after the better part of an hour spent playing with Levitas in the lake and then being scrubbed by the cadets, his spirits were greatly restored. Afterwards, he curled happily about Laurence in the warm courtyard when they settled down together to read, apparently much happier. But Laurence still saw Temeraire looking at his gold-and-pearl chain more often, and touching it with the tip of his tongue; he was beginning to recognize the gesture as a desire for reassurance. He tried to put affection in his voice as he read, and stroked the foreleg on which he was comfortably seated.
He was still frowning with concern later that evening, as he came into the officers’ club; a left-handed blessing, as the momentary hush that fell when he came into the room bothered him far less than it might otherwise have done. Granby was standing at the pianoforte near the door, and he pointedly touched his forehead in salute and said, ‘Sir,’ as Laurence came in.
It was an odd sort of insolence that could hardly be reprimanded; Laurence chose to answer as if it had been sincere, and said politely, ‘Mr. Granby,’ with a nod that he made a general gesture to the room, and walked on with what haste was reasonable. Rankin was sitting far back in a corner of the room by a small table, reading a newspaper; Laurence joined him, and in a few moments the two of them had set up the chessboard which Rankin had taken down from a shelf.
The buzz of conversation had already resumed; between moves, Laurence observed the room as well as he could without making himself obvious. Now that his eyes were opened, he could see a few female officers scattered in the crowd here, also. Their presence seemed to place no restraint on the general company; the conversation though good-natured was not wholly refined, and it was made noisy and confused by interruptions.
Nevertheless there was a clear sense of good-fellowship throughout the room, and he could not help feeling a little wistful at his natural exclusion from it; both by their preference and his own he did not feel that he was fitted for participation, and it could not but give him a pang of loneliness. But he dismissed it almost at once; a Navy captain had to be used to a solitary existence, and often without such companionship as he had in Temeraire. And also, he might now look forward to Rankin’s company as well; he returned his attention to the chessboard, and looked no more at the others.
Rankin was perhaps out of practice a little, but not unskilled, and as the game was not one of Laurence’s favourite pastimes they were reasonably well-matched. As they played, Laurence mentioned his concern for Temeraire to Rankin, who listened with sympathy. ‘It is indeed shameful that they should have not given him precedence, but I must counsel you to leave the remedy to him,’ Rankin said. ‘They behave that way in the wild; the deadlier breeds demand first fruits of the hunt, and the weaker give way. He must likely assert himself among the other beasts to be given more respect.’
‘Do you mean by offering some sort of challenge? But surely that cannot be a wise policy,’ Laurence said, alarmed at the very idea; he had heard the old fantastic stories of wild dragons fighting among themselves, and killing one another in such duelling. ‘To allow battle among such desperately valuable creatures, for so little purpose?’
‘It rarely comes to an actual battle; they know each others’ capabilities, and I promise you, once he feels certain of his strength, he will not tolerate it, nor will he meet with any great resistance,’ Rankin said.
Laurence could not have great confidence in this; he was certain it was no lack of courage that prevented Temeraire from taking precedence, but a more delicate sensibility, which had unhappily enabled him to sense the lack of approbation of the other dragons. ‘I would still like to find some means of reassuring him,’ Laurence said, sadly; he could see that henceforth all the feedings would be a source of fresh unhappiness to Temeraire, and yet they could not be avoided, save by feeding him at different times, which would only make him feel still more isolated from the others.
‘Oh, give him a trinket and he will settle down,’ Rankin said. ‘It is amazing how it restores their spirits; whenever my beast becomes sulky, I bring him a bauble and he is at once all happiness again; just like a temperamental mistress.’
Laurence could not help smiling at the absurdity of this joking comparison. ‘I have been meaning to get him a collar, as it happens,’ he said, more seriously, ‘such as the one Celeritas wears, and I do believe it would make him very happy. But I do not suppose there is anywhere around here where such an item may be commissioned.’
‘I can offer you a remedy for that, at any rate. I go to Edinburgh regularly on my courier duties, and there are several excellent jewellers there; some of them even