“I suppose,” Temeraire said, reluctantly, and stepped out of the pavilion and into the court. The increasing hubbub came to an abrupt and complete halt; the dragons and their companions alike stared openly, and then there was a general movement back and away from him. Laurence was for a moment shocked and offended; then he saw that they were all, men and dragons, bowing themselves very low to the ground. They had only been opening a clear path to the pond.
There was perfect silence. Temeraire uncertainly walked through the parted ranks of the other dragons to the pond, rather hastily drank his fill, and retreated to the raised pavilion; only when he had gone again did the general activity resume, with much less noise than earlier, and a good deal of peering into the pavilion, while pretending to do nothing of the sort. “They were very nice to let me drink,” Temeraire said, almost whispering, “but I wish they would not stare so.”
The dragons seemed disposed to linger, but one after another they all set off, except for a few plainly older ones, their scales faded at the edges, who returned to basking upon the courtyard stones. Granby and the rest of the crew had woken over the intervening time, sitting up to watch the spectacle with as much interest as the other dragons had taken in Temeraire; now they roused fully, and began to straighten their clothing. “I suppose they will send someone for us,” Hammond was saying, brushing futilely at his wrinkled breeches; he had been dressed formally, rather than in the riding gear which all the aviators had put on. At that very moment, Ye Bing, one of the young Chinese attendants from the ship, came through the courtyard, waving to draw their attention.
Breakfast was not what Laurence was used to, being a sort of thin rice porridge mixed with dried fish and slices of horrifically discolored eggs, served with greasy sticks of crisp, very light bread. The eggs he pushed to the side, and forced himself to eat the rest, on the same advice which he had given to Temeraire; but he would have given a great deal for some properly cooked eggs and bacon. Liu Bao poked Laurence in the arm with his chopsticks and pointed at the eggs with some remark: he was eating his own with very evident relish.
“What do you suppose is the matter with them?” Granby asked in an undertone, prodding his own eggs doubtfully.
Hammond, inquiring of Liu Bao, said just as doubtfully, “He says they are thousand-year eggs.” Braver than the rest of them, he picked one of the slices up and ate it; chewed, swallowed, and looked thoughtful while they waited his verdict. “It tastes almost pickled,” he said. “Not rotten, at any rate.” He tried another piece, and ended by eating the whole serving; for his own part, Laurence left the lurid yellow-and-green things alone.
They had been brought to a sort of guest hall not far from the dragon pavilion for the meal; the sailors were there waiting and joined them for the breakfast, grinning rather maliciously. They were no more pleased at being left out of the adventure than the rest of the aviators had been, and not above making remarks about the quality of food which the party could expect for the rest of their journey. Afterwards, Laurence took his final parting from Tripp. “And be sure you tell Captain Riley that all is ship-shape, in those exact words,” he said; it had been arranged between them that any other message, regardless how reassuring, would mean something had gone badly wrong.
A couple of mule-led carts were waiting for them outside, rather rough-hewn and clearly without springs; their baggage had gone on ahead. Laurence climbed in and held on grimly to the side as they rattled along down the road. The streets at least were not more impressive by daylight: very broad, but paved with old rounded cobblestones, whose mortar had largely worn away. The wheels of the cart ran along in deep sloping ruts between stones, bumping and leaping over the uneven surface.
There was a bustle of people all around, who stared with great curiosity at them, often putting down their work to follow after them for some short distance. “And this is not even a city?” Granby looked around with interest, making some attempt to tally the numbers. “There seem to be a great many people, for only a town.”
“There are some two hundred millions of people in the country, by our latest intelligence,” Hammond said absently, himself busy taking down notes in a journal; Laurence shook his head at the appalling number, more than ten times the size of England’s population.
Laurence was more startled for his part to see a dragon come walking down the road in the opposite direction. Another of the blue-grey ones; it was wearing a queer sort of silk harness with a prominent breast-pad, and when they had passed it by, he saw that three little dragonets, two of the same variety and one of the red color, were tramping along behind, each attached to the harness also as if on leading-strings.
Nor was this dragon the only one in the streets: they shortly passed by a military station, with a small troop of blue-clad infantrymen drilling in its courtyard, and a couple of the big red dragons were sitting outside the gate talking and exclaiming over a dice game which their captains were playing. No one seemed to take any particular notice of them; the hurrying peasants carrying their loads went by without a second glance, occasionally climbing over one of the splayed-out limbs when other routes were blocked.
Temeraire was waiting for them in an open field, with two of the blue-grey dragons also on hand, wearing mesh harnesses which were being loaded up with baggage by attendants. The other dragons were whispering amongst themselves and eyeing Temeraire sidelong. He looked uncomfortable, and greatly relieved to see Laurence.
Having been loaded, the dragons now crouched down onto all fours so the attendants could climb aloft and raise small pavilions on their backs: very much like the tents which were used for long flights among British aviators. One of the attendants spoke to Hammond, and gestured to one of the blue dragons. “We are to ride on that one,” Hammond said to Laurence aside, then asked something else of the attendant, who shook his head, and answered forcefully, pointing again to the second dragon.
Before the reply could even be translated, Temeraire sat up indignantly. “Laurence is not riding any other dragon,” he said, putting out a possessive claw and nearly knocking Laurence off his feet, herding him closer; Hammond scarcely had to repeat the sentiments in Chinese.
Laurence had not quite realized the Chinese did not mean for even him to ride with Temeraire. He did not like the idea of Temeraire having to fly with no company on the long trip, and yet he could not help but think the point a small one; they would be flying in company, in sight of one another, and Temeraire could be in no real danger. “It is only for the one journey,” he said to Temeraire, and was surprised to find himself overruled at once not by Temeraire, but by Hammond.
“No; the suggestion is unacceptable, cannot be entertained,” Hammond said.
“Not at all,” Temeraire said, in perfect agreement, and actually growled when the attendant tried to continue the argument.
“Mr. Hammond,” Laurence said, with happy inspiration, “pray tell them, if it is the notion of harness which is at issue, I can just as easily lock on to the chain of Temeraire’s pendant; as long as I do not need to go climbing about it will be secure enough.”
“They cannot possibly argue with that,” Temeraire said, pleased, and interrupted the argument immediately to make the suggestion, which was grudgingly accepted.
“Captain, may I have a word?” Hammond drew him aside. “This attempt is of a piece with last night’s arrangements. I must urge you, sir, by no means agree to continue on should we somehow come to be parted; and be on your guard if they should make further attempts to separate you from Temeraire.”