Victory of Eagles

“It is over already,” Dorset said in answer to his shocked protesting, “and now you know why we take them out at once. It would have been more unpleasant if you were awake.”

“I do not see much how,” Temeraire said, rather bitterly, “and at least I should have been warned.”

“And should have jerked twenty feet away, before I could have the ball out,” Dorset returned unrepentant. “Enough complaining; now I must have the others.”

“But I must go back to fighting,” Temeraire said hurriedly, trying to escape; to no avail, and he put his head down, ruff flattened back, and muttered unhappily as Dorset went prying after the other balls, which at least were less deep.

“It will be done soon,” Laurence said, stroking his head, and Demane came out of the woods carrying a small deer, slung over his shoulders, which Temeraire picked and nibbled on for consolation.

Excidium came down beside them with a rustling like heavy silk, his great wings folding shut, and his crew swarmed down in a rush to treat his wounds: only a few scattered claw-marks, and one musket-ball, whose removal he bore with perfect stoicism. Temeraire’s complaints—Dorset was now searing shut all the cleaned wounds—promptly fell silent.

“Here you are, then,” Jane said, coming over and spying Emily, who looked a little hang-dog as she was caught: red-handed literally, for she was standing and holding the blood-wet instruments for Dorset as he worked. “And has Sanderson given you leave from your post?”

“Anyhow Artemisia can only fly an hour at a time,” Emily said, but there was rather a mulish gleam in her eye; Laurence did not imagine she had liked her mother’s former demotion, nor serving with the usurper.

“Admiral,” Temeraire said, “have you any more orders for us? I am sure we could be of great use in fighting them aloft with you; and it is not much fun just poking the infantry,” he added, his brief studied formality failing him.

“You all do very well where you are,” Jane said. “It is no time to be going off half-cocked, old fellow. I will go so far as to say I think we are nicely placed. He is making us work for every inch, but we are getting them, and soon we will have them up against the trees. Closer run than I would like, but Dalrymple was right after all, and I was wrong; it was a good chance to take.”

“I was sure it would go well,” Temeraire said, “but I would like at least one more eagle, before we make him run away again.”

“If we take him,” Jane said, and reached to scratch Temeraire’s harness, against such tempting of fate, “I hope we will get more than his eagles; we will get him. Yes, he is here, himself,” she added, when Laurence could not help himself but ask. “He is beyond the curve with his Old Guard, and his pet Celestial; a splendid creature, what I have been able to see of her.”

“I knew she should be hiding from the battle,” Temeraire said, darkly.

“Keeping them in reserve and her, too,” Jane said, “but that will not be enough. We have our own reserve: Iskierka will be waking up any moment now, and the others who were out to-night.”

“She fought last night?” Laurence said.

“Yes,” Jane said. “One can’t get her off the field once she is on it, not until the enemy has quitted; so I had Granby rouse her up when it began to get a little light, and chase off the last of the Fleurs. Then she was tired enough to sleep a while. She will wake up full of vim, and just what we need. Bonaparte has let Prussia go to his head, I suppose, and thought he could beat us with less than all his strength.”

“I have just been thinking,” Temeraire said, after a moment, “where do you suppose his Grand Chevaliers are?—and Marshal Davout; I have not seen his standards anywhere, on the field.”

“Returned to France, I imagine, or still on the coast ferrying,” Laurence said. “And Davout—”

“Portugal, last report,” Jane said.

“Well,” Temeraire said, “there were two of them west of here; we stole their pigs, but they had plenty of food besides that. And Davout is not in Portugal at all, we saw him north of London, two days ago.”

“What?” Jane said, and did not wait for an answer; she was ru

Temeraire sat up. “Whatever is she so worried for?” he said, looking at Laurence rather indignantly, but Laurence had a dreadful, sinking sensation. “Aloft,” he said, “come; we must go aloft as far as you can—” and when Temeraire had climbed high enough to make trees and hills and farmhouses all blur into the wide gentle curve of the earth, he paused, hovering, and in subdued voice said, “Yes; I see them.”

Davout was coming, directly for their rear, with thirty dragons and twenty thousand men.

Chapter 9

IN ANOTHER HOUR, there would have been nothing to do but stand and be pounded to pieces from either side; the little early warning was enough to try and disengage, at least, and Dalrymple at once issued the order for the retreat. Wellesley fought a brilliant rear-guard action, bloody and terrible, stretching his men to hold the full breadth of Napoleon’s line while the rest of them withdrew behind that shield.

But still the retreat became rout by the end: ten thousand men left floundering in the marsh to be taken prisoner, and the rest straggling ignominiously away north through the countryside, without more than their muskets and their boots, and sometimes lacking those. The dragons were carrying the guns, dispiritedly, and occasionally Temeraire would look back over his shoulder at the battlefield they had fled and the dragons in the distance, chasing, with a quivering ruff. He did not propose to turn, but looked away again and put his head down, dogged, and kept flying.

Bonaparte’s harrying pursuit fell off at last, near evening: the French dragons, having labored all day in battle or in carrying Davout’s men near, had reached their limits, and one by one began to sink further behind into the gloaming; until they must have been called off and could be seen turning away.

Laurence put his hand on Temeraire’s neck. “We have slipped the trap,” he said quietly. “You have bought us that, at least.”

“I still think we ought to go back,” Iskierka said, grumbling, flying beside them; she had been very angry to awaken only to be told she would not have any fighting after all, and Temeraire only had managed to half-persuade, half-bully her into flying along with the rest. “I am hungry, and I do not like carrying this ca

“We are all hungry,” Temeraire said, in a temper, “so pray stop complaining; you are very tiresome.”

“I am not!” she said, “only because you do not want to fight, and would rather run away—”

“That is enough,” Excidium said to her sternly, descending. “We will go back when we are ready to, and have more men and guns, and can be sure to win. That is strategy,” he added, “and you are old enough to understand it.”

Iskierka subsided, still muttering, as the older dragon flew on ahead.

Somewhere far behind, the remnants of the infantry and cavalry marched on, towards reinforcements and resupply at the well-defended central depot in Weedon Bec. The dragons however flew straight on through the night and the next day, putting an impractical distance between them and pursuit, and ensuring the safety of the artillery. There was not much for them to eat: the farmers hid their cattle, and they could not easily stop to hunt during the day. “The Quality must put up with having their game eaten,” Jane said, and divided them up into small companies, each to make camp on an estate large enough to have a deer park.