in a clear morning when Temeraire remarked to Laurence, “That is Volly over there, coming towards us,” and Laurence lifted his head to see a small grey speck winging its way rapidly to the covert.
Volly sailed directly into the valley and landed in the training courtyard, a violation of the covert rules when a practice was in session, and Captain James leapt off his dragon’s back to talk to Celeritas. Interested, Temeraire righted himself and stopped in mid-air to watch, tumbling about all the crew except Laurence, who was by now used to the maneuver; Maximus kept going a little longer until he noticed that he was alone, then turned and flew back despite Berkley’s roared protests.
“What do you suppose it is?” Maximus asked in his rumbling voice; unable to hover himself, he was obliged to fly in circles.
“Listen, you great lummox; if it is any of your affair you will be told,” Berkley said. “Will you get back to maneuvers?”
“I do not know; perhaps we could ask Volly,” Temeraire said. “And there is no sense in our doing maneuvers anymore; we already know all of these,” he added. He sounded so mulish that Laurence was startled; he leaned forward, frowning, but before he could speak, Celeritas called them in, urgently.
“There has been an air battle in the North Sea, off Aberdeen,” he said with no preliminaries, when they had scarcely landed. “Several dragons of the covert outside Edinburgh responded to distress signals from the city; though they drove off the French attack, Victoriatus was wounded. He is very weak and having difficulty staying in the air: the two of you are large enough to help support him and bring him in more quickly. Volatilus and Captain James will lead you; go at once.”
Volly took the lead and flew off at a tearing speed, showing them his heels easily: he kept only just within the limits of their sight. Maximus could not keep up even with Temeraire, however, so with flag-signals and some hasty shouting back and forth through the speaking-trumpets, Berkley and Laurence agreed that Temeraire would go on ahead, and his crew would send up regular flares to mark the direction for Maximus.
The arrangements made, Temeraire pulled away very rapidly; going, Laurence thought, a little too fast. The distance was not very great as the dragon flew; Aberdeen was some 120 miles distant, and the other dragons would be coming towards them, closing the distance from the other side. Still, they would need to be able to fly the same distance again to bring Victoriatus in, and even though they would be flying over land, not ocean, they could not land and rest with the wounded dragon leaning upon them: there would be no getting him off the ground again. Some moderation of speed would be necessary.
Laurence glanced down at the chronometer strapped down to Temeraire’s harness, waited for the minute hand to shift, then counted wingbeats. Twenty-five knots: too high. “Gently, if you please, Temeraire,” he called. “We have a good deal of work ahead of us.”
“I am not tired at all,” Temeraire said, but he slowed regardless; Laurence made his new speed as fifteen knots: a good pace, and one that Temeraire could sustain almost indefinitely.
“Pass the word for Mr. Granby,” Laurence said; shortly, the lieutenant clambered forward to Laurence’s position at the base of Temeraire’s neck, swapping carabiners quickly to move himself along. “What is your estimate of the best rate the injured dragon can be maintaining?” Laurence asked him.
For once, Granby did not respond with cold formality, but thoughtfully; all the aviators had immediately become very grave on the moment of hearing of the injured dragon. “Victoriatus is a Parnassian,” he said. “A large mid-weight: heavier than a Reaper. They don’t have heavy-combat dragons at Edinburgh, so the others supporting him must be mid-weights; they cannot be making more than twelve miles per hour.”
Laurence paused to convert between knots and miles, then nodded; Temeraire was going almost twice as quickly, then. Taking into account Volly’s speed in bringing the message, they had perhaps three hours before they would need to start looking for the other party. “Very good. We may as well use the time; have the topmen and bellmen exchange places for practice, and then I think we will try some gunnery.”
He felt quite calm and settled himself, but he could feel Temeraire’s excitement transmitting itself through a faint twitching along the back of his neck; of course this was Temeraire’s first action,