Victory of Eagles

“Oh, I know that one, he was at the siege of Danzig,” Temeraire said. “I do not think he was so very clever, he did not make a big push to have us out, not until Lien came and took charge of everything. Where is our army?”

“All fallen back about London,” Mi

“Then there is not a moment to lose,” Temeraire said.

They passed the word for another council-meeting, and everyone came promptly: the other big dragons considerably more respectful now, if Ballista still was patronizing as she said, “You are upset, of course, and no wonder; but I am sure if you tell them you would like another captain—”

“No,” Temeraire said, the resonance making his whole body tremble, and looked away, while everyone fell quiet. After a moment he was able to continue. “I am not going to take another captain,” he said, “a stranger; I do not need a handler as if I were one of Lloyd’s cows. I can fight on my own, and so can any of you.”

“But what is there to fight for?” Requiescat said. “Even if the French win, they ain’t going to give us any bother, it will only be someone else taking eggs, just as careful.”

There was a murmur of agreement, and Moncey added, a little plaintively, “And I thought you were on about how unfair the Admiralty are, and not letting us have any liberty.”

“I do not mean to say anything for the Government at all,” Temeraire said. “But this country is our territory as much as it is any man’s; it belongs to us all together, and if we only sit here eating cows while Napoleon is trying to take it away, we have no right to complain of anything.”

“Well, what’s there to complain of, then?” Requiescat said. “We have everything as we like it.”

“So you would quarrel over one wet unpleasant cave instead of another, but you would not like to sleep in a pavilion, which is never wet or cold, even in winter?” Temeraire said, scornfully. “You only think you have things as you like, because you have never seen anything better, and that is because you have spent all your lives pe

When he had described pavilions for them a little more, and the dragon-city in Africa, and added, “And in Yutien, there were dragons who were merchants, and all of them had heaps of jewels: only tin and glass, Laurence said, but they were very pretty anyway, and in Africa they had gold enough to put it on all their crews,” there were not many dragons who did not sigh at least a little, and those who had some little bit of treasure on them looked at it, and many of the rest looked at them, wistfully.

“It all sounds a lot of gimcrackery to me,” Requiescat said.

“Then you may stay here and have my cave, which is not a quarter as nice as a pavilion,” Temeraire said coolly, “and when we have beaten Napoleon and taken prizes, you shan’t have a share; Moncey will have more gold than you.”

“Prizes!” Gentius said, rousing unexpectedly. “I helped in taking a prize once. My captain had a fourteenth share. That is how she bought the picture.”

Everyone knew Gentius’s painting, and a really impressed murmur went around: this was better than hypothetical jewels in another country which none of them had seen.

“Now, now; settle down,” Ballista said, thumping her tail, but with a considerably more lenient air. “Look here, I suppose no-one much wants the French to beat, anyway; we have all had a go with them before, if we were ever in service. But the men don’t want us unless we take harness and captains, and we ca

“If we fight thoughtlessly, just one alone at a time, we will,” Temeraire said, “but there is no reason we must, and we ca

“Hm, well,” Ballista said; this was a convincing argument, and the general murmur of agreement found it so.

“All right, all right,” Requiescat said. “Very nice story-telling, but it is all a hum. Treasure and battles are well and good, but what d’you mean to do for di

They landed all together on the grounds the next morning at the feeding time, the cows bellowing invitingly in their pen, and the delicious grassy scent made Temeraire’s tongue want to lick out at the air. But the other dragons all kept the line with him: no one even put their nose out towards the ru

Lloyd began going up and down the line looking up at them all in bafflement, saying to one after another in turn, “Go on, then, eat something,” entreatingly. Temeraire waited until Lloyd came up to him and then bent his head down and said, “Lloyd, where do the cows come from?”

Lloyd stared at him. “Go on, eat something, old boy,” he repeated, feebly, so it came out as a question more than a command.

“Stop that; my name is Temeraire, or you may say sir,” Temeraire said, “since that is how to speak to someone politely.”

“Oh, ah,” Lloyd said, not very sensibly.

“You have heard that the French have invaded?” Temeraire inquired.

“Oh!” Lloyd said, in tones of relief. “None of you need worry anything about that. Why, they shan’t come anywhere near, or interfere with the cows. You shall all be fed, the cows will come here every day, there’s no call to save them, old boy—”

Temeraire raised his head and gave a small roar, only to quiet him; a bit of snow came tumbling down the slope on the other side of the feeding grounds, but it was not very much, a foot perhaps, scarcely deep enough to dust his talons. “You will say sir,” he told Lloyd, lowering his head to fix Lloyd securely with one eye.

“Sir,” Lloyd said, faintly.

Satisfied, Temeraire sat back on his haunches and explained. “We are not staying here,” he said, “so you see, it is no help to say the cows will be here. We are going to fight Napoleon, all of us; and we need to take the cows with us.”

Lloyd did not seem at first to understand him; it required the better part of an hour to work it into his head that they were all leaving the grounds together and did not mean to come back, and then he began to be desperate, and to beg and plead with them in a very shocking way which made Temeraire feel wretchedly embarrassed: Lloyd was so very small, and it felt bullying to say no to him.

“That is quite enough,” Temeraire said at last, forcing himself to firmness. “Lloyd, we are not going to hurt you or take away your food or your property, so you have no right to go on at us in this way, only because we do not like to stay.”

“How you talk; I’ll be dismissed my post for sure, and that’s the least of it,” Lloyd said, almost in tears. “It’s as much as my life is worth, if I let you all go out wandering wild, pillaging farmers’ livestock every which way—”

“But we are not going pillaging, at all,” Temeraire said. “That is why I am asking you where the cows come from. If the Government would feed them to us here, they are ours, and there is no reason we ca

“But they come from all over,” Lloyd said, and gesturing to his herdsmen added, “The drovers bring a string every week, from another farm. It is as much as all of Wales can do, to feed you lot; there’s not one place.”

“Oh,” Temeraire said, and scratched his head; he had envisioned some very large pen, somewhere over the mountains perhaps, full of cows waiting to be taken out and carried along. “Well,” he decided, “then you all will have to help: you will go to the farms and fetch the cows and bring them along to us, and that way,” he added, with a burst of fresh inspiration, “no-one can complain to you, or sack you, because you will not have let us go off at all.”