His Majesty's Dragon - By Naomi Novik Page 0,48

If he had been dressed, his coat and boots would have been ruined, and everything else soaked through; on naked skin the steam was luxurious, just shy of being too hot, and his muscles unwound gratefully from the long flight.

The room was tiled, with benches built out of the walls at regular intervals; a few other fellows were lying about in the steam. Granby and Martin nodded to a couple of them as they led the way through and into a cavernous room beyond; this one was even warmer, but dry, and a long, shallow pool ran very nearly its full length. “We are right under the courtyard now, and there is why the Corps has this place,” Martin said, pointing.

Deep niches were built into the long wall at regular intervals, and a fence of wrought-iron barred them from the rest of the room while leaving them visible. Perhaps half the niches were empty; the other half were padded with fabric, and each held a single massive egg. “They must be kept warm, you see, since we cannot spare the dragons to brood over them, or let them bury them near volcanoes or suchlike, as they would in nature.”

“And there is no space to make a separate chamber for them?” Laurence said, surprised.

“Of course there is space,” Granby said rudely; Martin glanced at him and leapt in hastily, before Laurence could react.

“You see, everyone is in and out of here often, so if one of them begins to look a bit hard we are more likely to notice it,” he said hurriedly.

Still trying to rein in his temper, Laurence let Granby’s remark pass and nodded to Martin; he had read in Sir Edward’s books how unpredictable dragon egg hatching was, until the very end; even knowing the species could only narrow the process down to a span of months or, for the larger breeds, years.

“We think the Anglewing over there may hatch soon; that would be famous,” Martin went on, pointing at a golden-brown egg, its sides faintly pearlescent and spotted with flecks of brighter yellow. “That is Obversaria’s get; she is the flag-dragon at the Channel. I was signal-ensign aboard her, fresh out of training, and no beast in her class can touch her for maneuvering.”

Both of the aviators looked at the eggs with wistful expressions, longingly; of course each of those represented a rare chance of promotion, and one even more uncertain than the favor of the Admiralty, which might be courted or won by valor in the field. “Have you served with many dragons?” Laurence asked Martin.

“Only Obversaria and then Inlacrimas; he was injured in a skirmish over the Channel a month ago, and so here I am on the ground,” Martin said. “But he will be fit for duty again in a month, and I got a promotion out of it, so I shouldn’t complain; I am just made midwingman,” he added proudly. “And Granby here has been with more; four, is that not right? Who before Laetificat?”

“Excursius, Fluitare, and Actionis,” Granby answered, very briefly.

But the first name had been enough; Laurence finally understood, and his face hardened. The fellow likely was friend to Lieutenant Dayes; at any rate, the two of them had been the equivalent of shipmates until recently, and it was now clear to him that Granby’s offensive behavior was not simply the general resentment of an aviator for a naval officer shoehorned into his service, but also a personal matter, and thus in some sense an extension of Dayes’s original insult.

Laurence was far less inclined to tolerate any slight for such a cause, and he said abruptly, “Let us continue, gentlemen.” He allowed no further delays during the remainder of the tour, and let Martin carry the conversation as he would, without giving any response that might draw it out. They came back to the dressing room after completing the circuit of the baths, and once dressed again, Laurence said quietly but firmly, “Mr. Granby, you will take me to the feeding grounds now; then I may set you at liberty.” He had to make it clear to the man that the disrespect would not be tolerated; if Granby were to make another fling, he would have to be checked, and better by far were that to occur in private. “Mr. Martin, I am obliged to you for your company, and your explanations; they have been most valuable.”

“You are very welcome,” Martin said, looking between Laurence and Granby uncertainly, as if afraid

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