‘Of course Granby is not happy,’ Iskierka said, yawning, when Temeraire went so far as to ask her. ‘I am not happy either, this is all very boring, and we have no treasure. But it is still better than just carrying soldiers about, or patrolling. At least we are doing something. And it is orders, anyway; which you ought not question,’ she added. Temeraire put back his ruff.

*  *  *

Farmers now slaughtered their own cattle if they heard the French approaching, and even poisoned their grain. Villagers in vigilante bands ambushed soldiers while they slept; and one foraging mission after another returned to French encampments empty handed, if they returned at all. A sorely pressed outpost commander at last made the mistake for which Laurence had been waiting, and sent out his dragons to hunt for themselves. The farms immediately around their position had already been depleted, and so the beasts separated to look farther afield.

‘There are nine in all, two of those big grey ones, and the rest smaller, with three only a little bigger than I am,’ one of their small spies informed them. ‘The big ones went alone, south, and the others went towards a town north-north-east, with a red steeple, and parted there.’

Laurence nodded, and Gong Su led the feral to his reward, a portion of mutton stewed with rabbit, which the little dragon tore into ravenously: the supply of meat was growing increasingly thin throughout the countryside.

‘I am sure we can beat seven dragons,’ Temeraire said, his ruff already up, and his tail switching.

‘We are not going to fight seven,’ Laurence said. ‘We are going after the Chevaliers.’ He laid out his map quickly: a large estate lay some three miles south of the outpost, with a dairy.

They kept high over the cloud-cover, and emerged only just above the estate. The Petit Chevaliers were still on the ground, eating. It had most likely been a few days since their last meal, and they were trying urgently to make up for it. Two carcasses each already lay stripped to bones, and they had moved on to thirds. Their crew had dismounted and were ransacking the dairy-house with similar energy.

‘Those are milk cows,’ Demane said indignantly, peering down at the dragons and their repast; his own people were great herdsmen, and valued proper husbandry high.

‘Signal the attack,’ Laurence said, and roaring, Temeraire plummeted with the rest; the Chevaliers panicked and flung themselves aloft instinctively. One leapt up only to meet Maximus's full weight upon her back, and was driven down, bellowing dreadfully, to the ground again; a snapping crack and she went silent. Maximus staggered off and shook himself, dazed by the impact. She did not move, and her captain crying her name flung himself reckless across the field towards her.