Throne of Jade Page 0,58

been his earliest.

"Laurence," Temeraire said, turning his head towards him with excitement, after exchanging a few more words in Chinese with Yongxing, "he says that it was written by a dragon, not a man at all."

Laurence, still taken aback to find that Temeraire could speak the language, blinked yet again at this intelligence. "Poetry seems an odd sort of occupation for a dragon, but I suppose if other Chinese dragons like books as well as you do, it is not so surprising one of them should have tried his hand at verse."

"I wonder how he wrote it," Temeraire said thoughtfully. "I might like to try, but I do not see how I would ever put it down; I do not think I could hold a pen." He raised his own foreleg and examined the five-fingered claw dubiously.

"I would be happy to take your dictation," Laurence said, amused by the notion. "I expect that is how he managed."

He thought nothing more of it until two days later, when he came back on deck grim and worried after sitting a long while again in the sick-berth: the stubborn fever had recurred, and Granby lay pale and half-present, his blue eyes wide and fixed sightlessly upon the distant recesses of the ceiling, his lips parted and cracked; he took only a little water, and when he spoke his words were confused and wandering. Pollitt would give no opinion, and only shook his head a little.

Ferris was standing anxiously at the bottom of the dragondeck stairs, waiting for him; and at his expression Laurence quickened his still-limping pace. "Sir," Ferris said, "I did not know what to do; he has been talking to Temeraire all morning, and we cannot tell what he is saying."

Laurence hastened up the steps and found Yongxing seated in an armchair on the deck and conversing with Temeraire in Chinese, the prince speaking rather slowly and loudly, enunciating his words, and correcting Temeraire's own speech in return; he had also brought up several sheets of paper, and had painted a handful of their odd-looking characters upon them in large size. Temeraire indeed looked fascinated; his attention was wholly engaged, and the tip of his tail was flicking back and forth in mid-air, as when he was particularly excited.

"Laurence, look, that is 'dragon' in their writing," Temeraire said, catching sight of him and calling him forward: Laurence obediently stared at the picture, rather blankly; to him it looked like nothing more than the patterns sometimes left marked on a sandy shore after a tide, even when Temeraire had pointed out the portion of the symbol which represented the dragon's wings, and then the body.

"Do they only have a single letter for the entire word?" Laurence said, dubiously. "How is it pronounced?"

"It is said lung," Temeraire said, "like in my Chinese name, Lung Tien Xiang, and tien is for Celestials," he added, proudly, pointing to another symbol.

Yongxing was watching them both, with no very marked outward expression, but Laurence thought perhaps a suggestion of triumph in his eyes. "I am very glad you have been so pleasantly occupied," Laurence said to Temeraire, and, turning to Yongxing, made a deliberate bow, addressing him without invitation. "You are very kind, sir, to take such pains."

Yongxing answered him stiffly, "I consider it a duty. The study of the classics is the path to understanding."

His manner was hardly welcoming, but if he chose to ignore the boundary and speak with Temeraire, Laurence considered it the equivalent of a formal call, and himself justified in initiating conversation. Whether or not Yongxing privately agreed, Laurence's forwardness did not deter him from future visits: every morning now began to find him upon the deck, giving Temeraire daily lessons in the language and offering him further samples of Chinese literature to whet his appetite.

Laurence at first suffered only irritation at these transparent attempts at enticement; Temeraire looked much brighter than he had since parting from Maximus and Lily, and though he might dislike the source, Laurence could not begrudge Temeraire the opportunity for so much new mental occupation, when he was as yet confined to the deck by his wound. As for the notion that Temeraire's loyalty would be swayed by any number of Oriental blandishments, Yongxing might entertain such a belief if he liked; Laurence had no doubts.

But he could not help but feel a rather sinking sensation as the days went on and Temeraire did not tire of the subject; their own books were now often neglected in