There was a low thoughtful murmur going around. Temeraire put his head sidelong to nudge Roland, who was begrudgingly attending lessons with Demane and Sipho. It was from less of her own volition than at Sipho's insistence, he was beginning to outstrip her as well as his older brother. Roland had never been very interested in studying. ‘You had better go and tell Laurence, that the French dragon is making all sorts of promises, which I am sure are lies, if we would agree to serve Napoleon. And pray make him come and put a stop to it,’ he finished plaintively. He did not know how to answer the French dragon, who after all was offering just what he had asked for; except that he did not want it from Napoleon, who had invaded England and made so much trouble for everyone, and who let Lien do as she liked.

‘Oh, I will go at once,’ Roland said, with relief, and left. Demane said, ‘I will go too,’ and went after her.

‘But who is going to check my work?’ Sipho called after them unhappily.

Laurence had not gone further than the great hall of the citadel. Officers stood in scattered groups, talking in low voices that blended with echoes within the great vaulted ceiling into hollow unintelligible murmur. He hesitated in the entryway for a moment. There were few faces he knew, and fewer still he chose to impose himself upon. Then he saw Riley in a corner of the room.

Riley wore a look half-dazed with exhaustion, and he said wholly tactlessly, ‘Hello, Laurence, I thought you were in prison,’ in a tone more puzzled than condemnatory, ‘I have a son,’ he added.

‘Give you joy,’ Laurence said, and shook his hand, ignoring the rest of the remark. Riley gave no sign he noticed the omission. ‘Is Catherine well?’

‘I haven't the faintest notion,’ Riley said. ‘The lot of them took off like a shot for the coast three days ago, and she insisted she could not be spared, if you will credit it. Thank God we had already found a wet-nurse from the village, or I dare say she would have gone anyway, and let the child starve. Do you know, they must be fed every two hours?’

He did not know why the dragons had gone or where; what little attention he had to spare from the new child was devoted to the Allegiance. He had left her in dry-dock in Plymouth, recovering from their voyage to Africa, and with Bonaparte and his army now between him and the port, he fretted about her fate. ‘I am sure the Navy will keep him out of Plymouth,’ he said, ‘I am sure of it. But if he should somehow get a hold on the whole south, then—’