Empire of Ivory (40 page)

As well he might; while they had been speaking, dragons had

been coming in a steady stream, carrying in large woven

baskets or upon their backs men and women and even

children, and settling all down within the stands: a vast

company, larger than Laurence had yet suspected. The people

arranged themselves in a hierarchy of wealth, those sitting

on the lowest levels dressed in the most elaborate finery,

panoply of furs and jewellery in a splendid vulgar display.

There was a great variety among the beasts, in size and

shape, and no sign of recognizable breeds, save perhaps a

tendency towards similar coloring, in those who sat near-by

one another, or in their pattern of markings. There was one

constant, or nearly, however: the hostile looks which were

bent upon Laurence and Temeraire, from all sides. Temeraire

flared his ruff, as best he could with the constricting

straps, and muttered, "They needn't all stare so; and I

think they are great cowards for keeping me chained."

Soldiers were being brought in, now, by dragons more

armored than ornamented, and many of them in bloodstained

gear: no mark of slovenly habits but deliberate, worn

proudly; many of the stains were fresh as though they had

come straight from the recent battle which Mrs. Erasmus had

mentioned. These took up places around the floor of the

great stadium, in even ranks, while servants began to cover

the large central stage with furs, lion-skins and leopard,

and similarly draped a wooden throne; drums had been

carried in, and Laurence was thankful when they set up a

great thunder, and drew all eyes away: the king and the

prince had arrived.

The soldiers beat their short-hafted spears against the

shields, and the dragons roaring their own salute set up a

wave of rattling noise, on and on, while the royalty seated

themselves upon the central dais. When they were settled, a

small dragon, wearing an odd sort of necklace of fur tails

around his neck, leapt up on his haunches, beside the dais,

and clearing his throat hushed the crowd with startling

speed; his next deep breath was audible in the sudden

silence. And then he launched himself into something

between story and song: chanted, and without rhyme, to the

beat of only one soft drum which kept time for him.

Temeraire tilted his head, to try and make it out; but when

he looked at Laurence, and would have spoken, the dragon

guarding them gave him a shocked glare even before a word

had issued, which quelled him in embarrassment; until with

sunset, the chant finished, and the raucous applause burst

out again as torches were lit all around the dais. It had

evidently been, from what Temeraire could gather, a kind of

history of the deeds of the king and his ancestors, and

more generally of the many assembled tribes, delivered

entirely from memory, and covering some seven generations.

Laurence could not help but feel the liveliest anxiety for

the purpose of the convocation; the opening ceremonies thus

completed, it proceeded swiftly to angry speeches, greeted

with roaring approval and again that thunder of spears

against shields. "That is not true at all," Temeraire said

indignantly, during one of these, having picked out a few

of the words. One highly decorated dragon, a grey-black

fellow of middle-weight size, wearing a thick neck-collar

of tiger furs banded with gold, had come and ranged himself

opposite Temeraire, and was gesturing at him pointedly. "I

would not want your crew anyway; I have my own." He and

Laurence were evidently figuring, in most of these

exhortations, as material evidence, to prove the existence

of the threat and of its magnitude.

Another dragon, very old, whose wing-spurs dragged upon the

ground, and whose eyes were milky with cataracts, was led

out into the field by a small escort of hard-faced men

whose box, upon the lowest level, was left empty by their

departure: they had no family with them. No-one spoke as

the dragon crept to the dais, and heaved himself upon it;

he raised his trembling head, his speech a thin and fragile

lament which silenced all the crowd, and made the women

draw to them their children, the dragons curl anxious tails

around the clustered knots of their nearest tribesmen; one

of the escort wept silently, with his hand over his face,

his fellows giving him the courtesy of pretending they did

not see.

When he had done, and returned slowly to his place, several

of the soldiers began to stand forward to make their

remarks: one general, a heavy barrel-chested gentleman,

discarded his leopard-skin drape impatiently as he paced,

with so much energy his skin gleamed in the torchlight with

sweat, arguing vehemently in a voice projected to reach the

highest tiers, gesturing at them at regular intervals,

striking his fist into his hand, and pointing occasionally

at Temeraire. His speech roused them all not only to

cheering, but to agreement, grim nodding; he was warning

them, that many more such dragons would come, if they did

not take action now.

The night dragged on, grim and long; when the children had

all fallen into exhausted sleep, some of the dragons and

the women carried them away; those left kept speaking,

climbing lower down in the stands as room opened, and

voices grew more hoarse. Fatigue at last freed Laurence

from dread; they had not been stoned yet, nor offered any

other violence but words, and his back throbbed and itched

and burned, sapping the energy even to be afraid. It was

still not easy to stand and be pilloried, even if Laurence

thankfully could escape the understanding of the better

part of the accusations leveled against them; he solaced

himself by keeping as straight as he could make himself,

and fixing his gaze beyond the top ranks of the audience.

But he was looking not to see, unfocused, so he did not

immediately notice, until a vigorous waving made him

realize, with a start, that Dulcia was perched on the top

rank of seats, now empty.

She was small enough, and her green-and-mottled coloring

sufficiently common, to pass for one of the company, whose

attention was in any case fixed upon the speakers; when she

saw she had Laurence's eyes, she sat up and held up in her

forehands a ragged grey sheet. Laurence had no notion what

it was, at first; and then realized it was an elephanthide, with three holes painstakingly sawed out of it, in

the shape of signal-flags: tomorrow, was all the message,

and when he had seen it, and nodded to her, she as quickly

vanished away again into the dark.

"Oh; I hope they will come and let me loose, first,"

Temeraire murmured, fretful at the prospect of a rescue in

which he had no say. "There are so many dragons; I hope

they will not do anything rash."

"Oh! I do too," Harcourt said anxiously, when Laurence had

been returned to them, well-roasted and spat-upon, after

the conclusion of the ceremonies; she went to the mouth of

the cave at once to peer up at their sentinel. The dragon

was slumped rather unhappily upon his ledge, with his head

drooping down; in the distance the drums were still going,

in a celebration which bid fair to continue deep into the

night.

They could not prepare, save in the most general way, by

drinking as much as they could hold, and washing up; but

they all applied themselves to these tasks with more energy

than they deserved. "Bother; it is moving again," Harcourt

said, as she squeezed out her wet hair, and she put her

hand to the small of her back and rubbed. Inconveniently

she had just begun to show; her breeches were now obliged

to be left open, and the sides held together over her

middle with a bit of bark-string left from their bindings;

her shirt was loose, to cover the arrangement. "Oh, if only

it is a girl! I will never, never be so careless again."

By grace they slept well: the masons did not return to

their work, perhaps given holiday, and so for once they

were not woken with the dawn. No dragon came to carry any

of them to the fields; although for an unpleasant balance,

no dragon came to bring them any porridge, either, so they

would have to make their attempt empty-stomached. There

were still a good many dragons flying back and forth

through the gorges, all day, but as evening fell their

activity reduced, and the women went back early to their

cavern-halls, singing, with the baskets full of washing

balanced upon their heads.

Of course they had all expected the rescue to be made at

night, rationally; but without certain knowledge, the day

was full of tension and constant anxiety, and the urge to

be always looking out of the cavern-mouth, in a way which

could only have roused suspicion. Sunset roused them all to

feverish attention; no-one spoke, all of them straining,

until a little while after dark the heavy sailclothflapping of Lily's enormous wings could be heard,

distantly, on the quiet air.

They all waited for the sound to approach more closely, to

see her head in the cavern-entrance; but it did not come.

There was only a sneeze, and then another, and a third;

concluded shortly with a sort of grumbling cough, and then

the retreat of her wings. Laurence looked at Catherine,

perplexed, but she was edging towards the cave-mouth,

beckoning him and Chenery over; a faint sizzling noise,

like bacon on a too-hot frying-pan, a pinched sharp

vinegared stink: there were a few pockmarks bubbling on the

floor near the cavern-mouth.

"Look," Catherine said softly, "she has made us handholds,"

and she pointed where thin smoky trails rose, barely

visible, from the cliff face.

"Well, I dare say we can manage the climb, but what do we

do when we are down?" Chenery said, with more optimism than

Laurence felt. He had been made to go rock-climbing at Loch

Laggan, by the training master Celeritas, some twenty years

past the time most aviators began the habit, and had

learned thereby to manage upon a dragon's back without too

much discredit to himself; but he remembered the

experience, cramped beetle-like creeping one hand or foot

at a time, without anything like pleasure, and there he had

been wearing carabiners.

"If we walk along the line of the gorge, away from the

falls, we are sure to get past the borders of their

territory," Catherine said. "The dragons will have to find

us, from there, I suppose."

The waiting now graduated into sheer agony: they could not

begin to climb down, until the acid had eaten itself away

into the rock. The salvaged quarter-glass alone kept them

on any real sense of time, and the wheeling Southern Cross

in the sky above. Twice Laurence looked, to be sure Turner

had not missed the glass running out, only to find it

nearly full; then by an exercise of will he forced himself

not to watch, but rather to close his eyes, and press his

hands against his sides, beneath his arms, for warmth. It

was the first week of June, and the night was grown sharply

and unexpectedly chill.

"Sir, that's nine," Turner said softly, at last, and the

hissing of the acid had faded. They poked a twig into one

of the pitted depressions by the entrance: a good two

inches deep, and the stick came out unmarked, except for

the very end, which smoked a little.

"And his tail hasn't moved, sir," Dyer reported in a

whisper, meaning the guard-dragon, up above, after he had

put his head out to peer quickly.

"Well, I think it may do," Catherine said, when she had

cautiously felt around with a rag. "Mr. Ferris, you may

begin. Gentlemen: no more conversation; no calls, no

whispers."

Ferris had tied his boots together by their laces and slung

them backwards around his neck, to keep them out of his

way. He tucked a few twists of straw from the floor of the

cavern into his waist, then put his head over the side,

first, and reached down to feel cautiously around. He

looked up and nodded, then swung his leg over; in a moment

he vanished, and when Laurence risked a quick look over the

edge, he was already only a darker blot on the surface of

the wall, fifteen feet down, moving with the limber

quickness of youth.

There was no waving, no calling from below; but their ears

were stretched, and Turner had the glass still before him:

fifteen minutes went, then twenty, and no sound of

disaster. Chenery's first, Libbley, went to the edge and

let himself over, in similar array; and after him the

ensigns and midwingmen began to go, quicker: two and three

at a time; Lily had sprayed the wall thoroughly, and there

were hand-holds broadly scattered.

Chenery went, and a little after him, Catherine with her

midwingman Drew. Most of the younger aviators had already

gone. "I'll go below you, sir, and guide your feet," Martin