“It does give one pause,” Bistorta acknowledged, while a murmur traveled the gathered ferals—a great many Alpine ferals had come in answer to his urgent messages, and others from Saxony had come along out of curiosity. Naturally none of them could fail to be concerned with so many dragons hatching in a territory neighboring their own. “It does, but it does not therefore mean we can rely on your friends. I don’t think there are any of us who have not heard of this very terrible business in Russia, now.”

“I have seen one of those beasts who was hobbled up myself,” one feral piped up, “going around with the French. His scars! I did not like to believe it, before then, not truly. But nothing else could account for scars like that.”

Bistorta nodded firm agreement. She wore the largest, most magnificent of the platters from the golden dinner service around her neck, upon a chain—it gave Temeraire a faint pang still, every time a flash of the firelight gleamed off the lovely engraving—and the others were all very respectful of her. “I do not know I would not rather see this Napoleon win, when by all accounts he has behaved handsomely by dragons.”

“I am the last to say anything in defense of the Russians’ behavior,” Temeraire said, “except that they have learnt better, and are showing they mean to do better, for the very same reason that Napoleon has been behaving so nicely to dragons lately: because they want our help. Napoleon’s concern, like theirs, is first for himself and his own empire. I do not believe he is to be relied on, further than any other government. It is only that they can all see the importance of having us on their side, now, which makes them eager to be our friends. Of course, Napoleon has been quicker to see his advantage—I believe no-one has ever denied he is very clever. But that is not as much as to say he is the keeper of our interest.”

“Well, no,” Bistorta said, “but it does not make him less so, than this come-lately Tsar, who did not think anything of hobbles.”

“And if the outcomes of their respective victories were equal, I should agree with you,” Temeraire said judiciously. “But you must see that they are not. Napoleon only need hold his enemies off until all his new dragons have hatched and grown, and then he will have his own way, all across the Continent. There will be no-one to match him for ten years, no matter what the rest of us should choose to do in future.

“But if the allies should win, there will be many powers in Europe—Russia, and Prussia, and Austria, and England, and France, besides Spain, and any number of smaller nations and principalities. If any one of them should fail to keep faith with us, or should begin to treat dragons poorly, we shall have the power to threaten them by alliance with one or more of the others. So you see, it is very much to our advantage to have a balance of power upon the Continent—however thoughtful Napoleon may have been of dragons, personally.”

“I do not know I would call it thoughtful, myself, to hatch out four thousand dragons without so much as a word to assure us he has enough food for them all,” muttered one rather lean-looking Alpine beast, with narrowed eyes.

They all went away murmuring among themselves, and Temeraire congratulated himself that even if they had not been swept away entirely by the force of his arguments, some at least had been persuaded—there had been several inquiries about the rules of prize-money, and ordinary pay, which would hardly have been made if no-one thought them worth joining. He stretched his wings, and went to have a long drink of tea to wet down his dry throat: there were another forty dragons due to arrive in—only an hour, he realized in dismay, as four bells was rung. It seemed he had done nothing but talk, and talk, and talk, for two days.

“I do not suppose Napoleon will attack to-day?” he asked Challoner wistfully.

“No, I shouldn’t think there is any likelihood of it,” she said. Temeraire sighed.

But his labors were bearing some fruit: Bistorta came back the next morning for more conversation, along with many of the other dragons, and a little later Molic arrived also with some two dozen Lithuanian and Prussian ferals in tow. Temeraire spoke with all of them again, and also with a handful of Persian ferals, who had flown all the way from the east; Yu Li had promised to leave word with them, if she could, on her way back to the legions.

The Persians expressed a loud and very useful sense of injury. “For we were told we might have our territory back, and eat all the cattle that grazes upon it, if only we pushed to keep others out of it,” their chief Tushnamatay said, complaining, “but instead we have been having one fight after another with these red fellows from China, who are extremely nasty if there are any number of them—all sorts of tricks.”

“When you engage to fight the Imperial Legions of China,” Temeraire said, not a little loftily, “you must expect to run into difficulties. I am not surprised that Napoleon should have misrepresented the situation to you, but I do not see why you should feel obliged to him for putting you in so awkward a position, and why you should keep on fighting us instead of accepting the respectable gifts the legions would be happy to make you.”

“Gifts are all well enough,” Tushna said, “but they do not make up for men rousting us out everywhere.”

“I do see that,” Temeraire said, “and I am willing, if you choose, to add you to our own separate concord, and to make every effort to persuade the men in your territory to agree to join it and give you your rights. I will not make extravagant promises I cannot be sure to keep—unlike some,” he added significantly, “but I can say, we will take your part, if you take ours; and besides that, if any of you should choose to provide us with active assistance, you shall be entitled to prize-money, in a fair share—and you may ask any dragon of my company, that it is fair.”

He was interrupted here by a clanging alarum, and Moncey dropping into the large clearing. “Well, we are in for it,” he said cheerfully. “He has dropped ten thousand men on the road ahead of us at Bautzen, with sixty guns.”

“I am very sorry to interrupt our conference,” Temeraire lied to the listening dragons, “but naturally I must go at once. We should be very glad to have any of you, who would like to help—you need only follow along with Ricarlee, that grey dragon there with the blue markings, and he will show you where to go to have a share of the fighting.”

He returned to his own clearing, Laurence already coming down the path himself shrugging into his flying-coat. “The army will fall back on Reichenbach,” he said. “We must open the road, and then hold them for five hours.”