“Well—” Forthing said, “they have a look of scales; I expect they may make it nastier to get at the wings if she goes after them, fighting—”
“She won’t go after the wings,” Ferris said, a little rudely, “unless she hasn’t any sense. His neck is twelve points from the shoulder-joint, so he can look all the way round: if she closes with him there, he’ll just turn his head and plant those fangs right below her breastbone: he won’t need to be a Longwing for that to do the job.”
Forthing said, “If she grappled; I don’t suppose anyone has ever heard of clawing, on a pass—”
“Gentlemen,” Laurence said, sharply, and they both subsided; Granby did not look much happier.
Perhaps another forty dragons had descended upon the temple and ranged themselves upon the steps of the pyramid: the largest four, who shared their level, all of them easily of heavy-weight class and ornamented with sufficient gold and silver to put a duchess to shame; but even these were accompanied only by a relatively few people, around whom they coiled their bodies jealously. When they looked, they looked not at Temeraire and Kulingile, but at himself and Granby and the others of their party, and there was an envious quality to the looks.
“Will you ask Hualpa whether there are an uncommon number of dragons in this city?” Laurence asked Temeraire, low.
“Certainly; this is the third largest city of Chirisuyo, and perhaps the eleventh largest in all Pusantinsuyo,” Hualpa said—meaning, he clarified, the southernmost province of the empire, one of eight such provinces, and its second most populous part; a hasty sketchwork elicited that the imperial territory extended now to the neighborhood of the Straits of Magellan, since the reign of the last Sapa Inca but one.
“If half of the local beasts are here, which I must assume unlikely,” Hammond said, “then in seven such cities—without consideration for the beasts which live in the more remote areas—”
His calculations were interrupted by all the dragons setting up a roar in full voice, Kulingile and Temeraire belatedly sitting up on their haunches to join in; before the noise had died away, the Copacati was launching himself aloft, and Iskierka shot after him.
Their first passes were mere flourishes: the Copacati darting in and back away at once, a baiting maneuver; Iskierka snapped her jaws at him striking-quick, but without much of an attempt to get near: only the clashing of her teeth chasing him back. Their shadows marked their positions upon the ground: Temeraire had gathered that the courtyard itself formed the boundary of their struggle, and leaving its bounds was tantamount to yielding; Laurence could see Iskierka casting a quick eye down to place herself, before she launched her own probing attack.
She looped towards the sun and went in high, claws outstretched, and the Copacati was for a moment slow to react—“Bloody hell, it’s a feint; damn you,” Granby yelled up at Iskierka, “don’t—”
Too late: she was plunging at the Copacati’s exposed back, and as she descended the other dragon abruptly convulsed his body nearly in half, and so managed to flip himself to receive her with bared fangs already glistening. A low hiss of approval rose from the stands: the dragons sat up, anticipating.
But Iskierka had already begun to veer off from her straight-line course: the initial movements, Laurence realized, camouflaged by the sun backing her. Her back coils rolled, and their weight pulled her along; she fell away to the side and cleared the Copacati’s striking range: by feet rather than by yards, Laurence judged, peering through his glass, but good enough; then she was circling away again to the far end of the courtyard limits.
Willing to be even-handed in their evaluations, the spectator dragons hissed for her as well, with even louder enthusiasm; Hualpa said something to Temeraire. “He says this has all the makings of a really excellent fight, which honors the gods,” Hammond said, “and perhaps it will end in—” He slowed and awkwardly finished, “in a death; but this I gather, Captain Granby, is a most uncommon occurrence.”
“That was a nice piece of maneuvering,” Temeraire said, rather grudging, “and his, also; but I do not think he can be classed with the very most dangerous sort of dragon. You saw, Laurence, that he did not even try to spit at Iskierka; which means he must have some limit to his supply, or else he might as well have had a go; or perhaps he must bite to have any effect, after all.”
The Copacati was beating almost directly up and wagging his body as he did, offering his belly: a provocation which Iskierka was happy to answer. She barreled across the opening space towards him, jaws wide, and Laurence thought perhaps she meant to flame; but instead she veered off again short, angling low as she did, and let her hindquarters and tail with their bristling spikes go raking over his lower belly in passing.
The blow could only have been glancing; the Copacati shrilled with displeasure more than pain, and the watching dragons clicked their talons against the stone. “She has made the first touch,” Temeraire translated.
“Huzzah,” shouted one of the sailors, and the others took it up; several removed their shirts and waved them, in the nature of impromptu flags.
“There is no call for that, particularly when it is very early on,” Temeraire said with a sullen air; the men paid no attention, but yelled more encouragement: “Go on, lassie!” bellowed one deep-voiced seaman, “go on, give him what-for!”
Iskierka flicked a pleased glance down, and even turned away from the fight and flew a low pass in answer along the stands, letting one wing-tip nearly trail the ground and stretching her length impressively. The wind of her passage kicked up dust and a clatter of small stones, so Temeraire snorted and raised up a wing protectively to shield them; this in no wise dampened the enthusiasm of the men.
“Keep your eyes on him, you wretched vainglorious creature,” Granby yelled, but his objections were drowned out, and during Iskierka’s distraction the Copacati had taken advantage to take on more altitude; he now circled far above, with full command of the field, and Iskierka was open to him below: his shadow on the courtyard only a small irregular smudge, and hers nearly full-sized.
Hualpa made a rough tchach sound deep in his throat, disapproving, and Iskierka was flying a little awkwardly, circling up and trying to keep her head turned on one side as she did, so she could watch the Copacati’s flight. It was a crabbed position, difficult to maintain, and as they watched Iskierka plainly lost patience for it, shook her head vigorously back and forth, and threw herself instead directly into a climb.
The Copacati immediately stooped towards her, claws beneath him outstretched: he had blown out his air, and his feather-scales were sleeked down, so he arrowed towards her with all his weight behind him, at a shocking speed. “Oh, oh,” Kulingile said, and even Temeraire sat up with his ruff flattening; Granby’s hands were bled-pale on the makeshift rope of their harness.
An impact on almost any point would surely fling her down upon the stone, stunned and easy prey for finishing, and Laurence could not see how she was to avoid it, save by throwing herself so wide she would fall out of the courtyard’s bounds. And then as the Copacati came, Iskierka herself blew out her air, steam jetting in a frenzy from every spike, and dropped towards the ground with him instead of continuing to a meeting.
His speed was greater; in an instant he was alongside, and hissing struck, but she jerked her head aside and lashed him with her claws to keep him back; then they broke apart again: both dragons had to make their turn and beat back up, furiously gasping, to keep from striking the ground.
They rose through the lingering cloud of steam which Iskierka had produced, a glowing haze illuminated from above by the sun, and dispersed it. Trailing fog, both peeled away to either side and circled at their opposite ends, to catch their breath and look for some advantage, having had time to take full measure of one another now.
And the Copacati had taken Iskierka’s, certainly. He settled himself comfortably into his circling pattern, flicking his tail idly in a manner which suggested he was prepared to so remain for any length of time; he watched Iskierka, and his jaws were parted, but he made no move towards her. “Oh, damn him,” Granby said.
This time he did not even have to offer his belly to entice her in. Iskierka, having circled half-a-dozen times, was already visibly grown tired of the inaction, and snorted her impatience. She broke her position, ceding the advantage, and began another pass at the Copacati. He completed his circle and seemed as though he would begin another, which would have left him coming out of the pattern just in time to meet her; but as she neared, he abruptly pumped his wings twice and shot forward with surprising speed, opening his jaws wide.
His head drew back on its neck, momentarily like a cobra ready to strike, and he spat: but even as he did, Iskierka coming to meet him opened her own jaws, and her flame boiled up out of her throat and seared the air between them.
The thin black stream of poison was caught and scorched, with a stench so powerful it reached the ground; an acrid black cloud rose up, and the dragons both wheeled back from it in either direction. The Copacati was reeling away while giving small cries of distress, black scorch-marks streaked over his face and forequarters, stark upon the silver scales. Iskierka did not give quarter, but circled back and pressed hard upon him, breathing another gout of flame from which he flinched sideways, and then another; and suddenly all the dragons were roaring once again, for the Copacati’s shadow had slipped out of the courtyard, and fallen into the running stream.
Chapter 9
“MOST REMARKABLE,” Hualpa said yet again, inclining his head in compliment while Iskierka preened; Manca Copacati was huddled sulking at the far end of the courtyard, with a handful of attendants washing down his hurts with water from the fountain, and applying some sort of ointment.
“After all, he did not know that she could breathe fire; it seems to me that is a slightly—a very slightly ramshackle sort of trick to use, to win. At least, it is not as impressive as if he had known—” Temeraire said; or rather, wanted to say; but in the end, he could not justify it to himself: too mean-spirited, and he had a horror of so appearing before Laurence. Instead he grudgingly said, “That was nicely fought,” to Iskierka, in congratulations, and privately determined to himself that the next time they should have any call for fighting, he would show what he could do.
“Yes,” Iskierka said complacently, “and I suppose they will know better than to challenge me in future; now you may tell that governor we would like to know the way to take Taruca back to his home.”
This required a brief pause, for several large roasts were being brought out at that moment: llamas on spits, their fat still sizzling and dripping on the ground as they were carried in by young men staggering beneath the weight, and two extremely nice ones were delivered to Iskierka, who fell upon them at once.
“Hm,” Hualpa said, gnawing on his spit thoughtfully, when they had eaten—it was made of some sort of interestingly flavored wood, which was very pleasant to have upon the tongue when the meat was done. “So you really do mean to give him away? I thought you were only saying so, as an excuse.”
“Whyever would we have made up such an excuse?” Temeraire said. “It is not as though Iskierka—or any of us—minded fighting, if anyone wanted a fight with us.”
Hualpa shrugged one massive shoulder. “You Europeans are always lying about one thing or another,” an accusation which Temeraire did not think justified, and in any case, he was Chinese, “but if you really do not want him, he might as well remain here. I would be pleased to take him into my own ayllu, in fact. There is no sense in dragging an old man halfway across the empire just to leave him somewhere else.”
“Indeed, Captain,” Hammond said to Laurence eagerly, having overheard this suggestion, “you must admit there is a great deal of sense in what he says: and it is plain to see they have no notion of slavery, at least in the Western mode; there is surely no cruelty or abuse—”
“Sir,” Laurence said, cutting him short, “will you ask the gentleman if he prefers to remain here, or be taken to his first-proposed destination?” and Hammond sighed even before he had put the question; Taruca had no hesitation in affirming his wish to be taken home, with an enthusiasm increased by his growing belief in its chances of being accomplished.
When Temeraire had made clear that they were quite firm in their intentions, Hualpa also sighed. “Well, as that is the grounds on which you accepted the challenge, I suppose the law is now with you,” he said. “I will give you right of passage to Titicaca, then; and as long as you are there, you may as well continue on to Cusco, and see what the Sapa Inca will make of you: I have heard there are some Europeans to be welcomed there, presently, so perhaps it will be permitted.”
“Is Cusco the capital, then?” Temeraire said. “Is it very far from Titicaca?”
“Two days’ easy flying, I would call it,” Hualpa said.
“Oh,” Hammond said, and all the objections he had begun to make to Laurence abruptly fell silent.
“I wonder he should be so doubtful, when we have been laying ourselves all-out for his sake,” Granby said, perhaps with a shade of resentment: he had gone all over Iskierka’s head himself, by hand, making certain not a drop of venom had landed which might later roll into a nostril or an eye-socket or her jaws. “You would think he might believe, by now.”
“I am grateful; but I have been stolen fourteen times, since this,” Taruca said, touching his scarred face, when the question had been put to him. “But if Inti wills it, I will be glad to go home; if you can take me.”
His latest cause for doubt was a merely practical one: the rope-and-sailcloth rigging they had put together would not do for very much longer. Shipley and all the sailors with any skill at needlework had been at it daily, but by now it was more patch than original matter, and three weeks in unfamiliar high country would certainly be past its limits, unless they liked to risk plunging to their deaths upon the jagged mountain-sides of the Andes. But they had no supply. Hualpa had been generous enough to make them free of the countryside, hunting, but while there were enough llamas running wild and untended to feed the dragons to their satisfaction, there was no such easy source of leather: they had not even a single leatherworker left, of their ground crews, and the nearest thing was one old round-bellied sailor who vaguely remembered a childhood’s apprenticeship to a tanner, of a few months’ duration.
