unconcernedly in the straw, oblivious both to the fate which it had earlier escaped and to the one which now descended upon it.
Gherni was neither picky nor patient enough to demand her pork cooked, and they roasted the chickens for themselves over a small, well-banked fire, feeding the kestrel on the sweetbreads, and waving their hands through the smoke to thin it out. Without salt the meat had little flavor, but did well enough to fill their stomachs. They gnawed it down to the bones, and buried the remnants deep; they rubbed their greasy hands clean with grass.
And then only the wait for the sun to go down: a crawling time, when it was scarcely yet noon, and the ground cold and hard to sit upon: wet rotting leaves in a muck everywhere, the wind blowing a steady chill into fingers and feet, with all the stamping they could do. But Laurence could stand when he chose, and go to the edge of the copse and feel the wind blowing freely into his face, and see the placid well-ruled fields in their orderly brown ranks and tall white birch-trees raising their limbs high against the unbroken sky.
Tharkay came and stood beside him. There was no alteration in his looks or manner; if he was silent, he had been silent before. It was to Laurence as much liberation as the absence of locks and barred doors, to be able to stand here a moment, and be no traitor, but only himself, unchanged, in the company of another. He had suffered wide disapproval before, without intolerable pain, when he knew himself in the right; he had not known it could be so heavy.
Tharkay said, "I might never have found you, of course."
It was an offer, and Laurence was ashamed to be tempted; tempted so strongly he could not immediately make his refusal, not with all freedom open before him, and the stench of smoke and the ship's bilges still thick in the back of his throat, ready to be tasted.
"My idea of duty is not yours," Tharkay said. "But I know of no reason why you owe it to any man to die, to no purpose."
"Honor is sufficient purpose," Laurence said, low.
"Very well," Tharkay said, "if your death would preserve it better than your life. But the world is not yet quite ranged all between Britain and Napoleon, and you do not need to choose between them or die. You would be welcome, and Temeraire, in other parts of the world. You may recall there is at least a semblance of civilization," he added dryly, "in some few places, beyond the borders of England."
"I do not - " Laurence said, struggling, "I will not pretend that I do not consider it, for Temeraire's sake if not my own. But to fly would be to make myself truly a traitor."
"Laurence," Tharkay said, after a pause, "you are a traitor." It was a blow to hear him say so, in his cool blunt way, all the lack of passion in the words serving only to make them seem less accusation than statement of fact. "Allowing them to put you to death for it may be a form of apology, but it does not make you less guilty."
Laurence did not know how to answer; of course Tharkay was right. It was useless to cry, that he loved his country, and had betrayed her only in extremis, as the lesser of two hideous evils. He had betrayed her, and the cause mattered not at all. So perhaps for nothing, now, he condemned Temeraire to lonely servitude, himself to life-long imprisonment. Perhaps all that could be lost, had been lost. And yet - and yet - He could not answer.
They stood a long while, mutely. At last Tharkay shook his head, and put his hand on Laurence's shoulder. "It is getting dark."
"Yes, I sent for him," Jane said, flatly. "And you may leave off your coughing and your insinuations: if I wanted a man between my legs so badly, there is a campful of handsome young fellows outside, and I dare say I could find one out to oblige me, without going to such trouble."
Having momentarily appalled her audience of generals and ministers into silence, she rode on, with no more muttering to contend against, "If the French took him prisoner, they would have two Celestials; and even if the two are too close related to breed direct, they will cross-breed them - perhaps to Grand Chevaliers,