Chapter IV
Three Years Later
"Numair, have you seen Linnet?" Daine called to her husband of three and a half years as it dawned on her that the rooms they shared were eerily quiet. It was late morning, almost lunch-time. Their three-year-old daughter would ordinarily have been whining for attention or complaining that she was hungry for at least half an hour by now.
"Hmm? What was that?"
Her husband appeared in the door of their bedroom, rubbing the bridge of his nose absently. He had a chart in his hand and seeing it, Daine sighed. She might have known.
Numair had just been promoted to Formation Leader and was deep in the midst of planning his first series of reconnaissance missions in that capacity. His mind was full of nothing else.
Twitching the chart out of his hands, Daine clicked her fingers impatiently.
"Linnet? You know, your daughter? You were supposed to be watching her."
"Yes. Oh yes," Numair scratched his head, sending flakes of dandruff fluttering down to his collar, where they lay like the earliest flakes of snow, soft and light, on a winter's morning, "I remember now. She wanted to go and play with the dragons."
"And you let her?" Daine gaped, "She's three years old!"
"I didn't see the harm. It's not as though the dragons would ever let any harm come to her, after all."
Blinking, Daine gulped like a fish several times, jaw working furiously, and then spun on her heel, shaking her head and running outside to the training fields.
"I have to do everything around here!" she grumbled.
She knew she didn't have a right to complain, not really. Numair did more to help with Linnet than many men did their wives or mistresses, even here, in the rather more enlightened world of the Aerial Corps, where it was often said that the Captains were bred as much as the dragons were. However, right now, with their toddler daughter getting up to who knew what mischief around the dragons, the soup she had spent the last three hours slaving over threatening to boil into unrecognisable mush on the stove and the prospect of even more chaos in the not too far away future, when Numair would be too swept up in his preparations to care even for food, Linnet would be clamouring for attention and the babies wailing in their cribs in the corner... Daine sighed, her hand drifting to rest on her as yet barely-swollen midriff.
"Oh little ones. I only hope your father gets this blasted need for his work to be perfect out of his head before you arrive. I could do with him paying a sight more attention to you than he does to your sister at the moment."
"Me too! Me too!" Linnet's piping voice brought Daine out of her musings. Her head snapped up.
Her three year old daughter was hopping up and down, tugging eagerly on the tail straps of Temeraire's harness. The older boys and girls – Admiral Lawrence's daughter among them – were chuckling and scrambling up and down the leather straps. Clearly, they were multi-tasking between practising their manoeuvres and indulging Linnet, helping her up over Temeraire's tail and taking her hand to run along his back with her. Linnet laughed and clapped her hands. When, standing on the top of Temeraire's gun platform, she saw Daine watching her, she waved eagerly.
"Ma-ma, look! Ma-ma!"
"Ma-ma's looking, pet," she called back, before turning to Temeraire, "I'm sorry she's bothering your crew like this."
"There's no need to be sorry," the huge black dragon said equably, "The kit is positively enchanting. She's reminded my crew to be children from time to time. It's been wonderful to see. Besides, it's good to see she's so fearless. We'll make an aviator of her yet."
Unsure what to say to that – Linnet was still so young that Daine hadn't dared to think what her daughter might grow up to be – she decided to say nothing at all. Instead, she patted Temeraire's neck where he had craned it down to speak to her and turned back to the children.
"Miss Lawrence-Roland," she called, catching the eye of the eldest girl, who was now spinning Linnet round by the waist, both of them laughing as their unruly curls streamed out behind them, "Might I beg you for the return of my daughter? I need to take her home and feed the troops."
"Of course, Captain Salmalin!" Emily skidded to a halt, saluted and began to scramble down from Temeraire's back, Linnet clinging to her shoulders and crowing delightedly.
As they reached the ground, Emily ruffled Linnet's hair, "There you go, missy. Go back to your mother. I'll see you soon."
Linnet nodded, running up to Temeraire's head. She stretched up on tiptoe and the big black dragon put his nose down to meet her palm, nuzzling her as gently as he knew how.
"Goodbye, little bird. Come and play again soon, won't you?"
"Yes, Temmy. Goodbye," Linnet chirped before skipping over to Daine and slipping her hand into hers. As ever, Daine had to suppress a smile at the little girl's innocent mangling of Temeraire's name. She squeezed the tiny hand she cradled within her own.
"Come on, you. Let's go home."
Unbeknown to Linnet and Daine, however, Celeritas, Admiral Lawrence and the rest of the training team had been watching the three year old's play from a platform on the other side of the field. As the russet-haired Daine left the field, taking her raven-headed child with her, the small group turned to one another, nodding.
"She's a natural. To be that comfortable around dragons, at her age..."
"It would be a crime not to secure her a place in the Corps just as soon as ever we can."
Celeritas's unblinking eyes, as he turned them on Admiral Lawrence, held a gaze that could only be described as pleading.
Unnerved despite herself at the desperation in his gaze, she paused, brushing imaginary specks of lint off her lapels to buy herself time.
As an Admiral, she agreed with Celeritas's assessment. Little Linnet Salmalin seemed to have all the attributes necessary for a successful life in the Corps. Good balance, a head for heights and a bravery that could sometimes be said to border on recklessness. It would be foolish of them not to at least offer her a place. As a mother, however, she was loath to pressure Numair and Daine into deciding their daughter's future while she was still so young.
But she couldn't afford to think like a mother. Not when she was the first female Admiral the Corps had had since Lady Charlotte Stuart back in the 1680s. There were enough people questioning her appointment without her giving them any more ammunition.
That thought in mind, she sighed, bowing her head.
"Very well. As you wish. I'll speak to Captain Salmalin."
"Daine? Might I have a word?"
Admiral Lawrence's voice was surprisingly gentle. Moreover, her use of Daine's first name – and her nickname at that – also surprised the younger woman. Although more and more people were calling her either 'Daine' or 'Verity', in an attempt to distinguish between the two Captain Salmalins now found within the Corps's ranks, her superiors were not generally among them.
"Admiral! Of course!" she nodded, saluting as she swung round from washing Kitten's silvery flank, nudging the young dragon to remind her of her manners.
"Admiral," Kitten murmured, half-asleep under Daine's ministrations. Daine swept the brush over her scales a couple more times, functioning on autopilot, before starting guiltily.
"Forgive me. Should we go somewhere else? I can easily..."
"No, no," Admiral Lawrence waved away her half-finished offer, "Carry on, Captain. It's good to see you take such personal care of Skysong. Heaven knows the Corps needs more captains like you."
The silence stretched between them for a few moments. Daine began to wonder why Admiral Lawrence had wanted to speak to her so badly and had just opened her mouth to say so when the older woman suddenly continued, "Mother to mother, do you mind my asking whether you've given any thought to Linnet's future yet?"
Daine shook her head, struggling to hide her shock at the sudden change in subject.
"Numair's full of grand plans, of course, but I don't pay much attention to his schemes. As long as she's happy and knows where her next meal's coming from, well, I don't think any of us have a right to ask any more than that."
"So you wouldn't have any qualms about training her for say, the Corps, if she turned out to have an affinity for it?"
Daine half-shrugged, "I suppose not. As long as her Captain kept her safe and treated her fairly."
"You don't sound very surprised," Admiral Lawrence raised an eyebrow. Daine shrugged again, moving round to Kitten's head to wash her face.
"Linnet can't keep away from the dragons. Temeraire's already said she'd be a natural. It was really only a matter of time before Celeritas asked you to speak to us about her. I presume it was Celeritas?" she added, as an afterthought.
"Of course," Admiral Lawrence chuckled, "Who else would it be?"
"When does he want her to start?"
"Oh not until she's five, at least. But that's still awfully young. Children aren't usually taken for the Corps until they're seven."
"I'm in the Corps. Her father's in the Corps. If anyone's going to have an exception made for her, it's Linnet. Wasn't Captain Harcourt raised in the Corps?"
"She was. But her father was never her captain, so don't think you or Numair will be captaining Linnet. People would worry you'd favour her."
Daine nodded at the warning in the older woman's voice, "I'd expect nothing less."
Admiral Lawrence paused, then stood to go, "One more thing, Captain. Do you want Linnet trained to take over Skysong's captaincy?"
Daine considered, head to one side and two fingertips on Kitten's nose to calm her as she stiffened at the mere mention of having to do without Daine as her captain.
"I don't think so," she said at last, "Goddess and Trinity willing, I'll be able to serve with Kitten for years yet. I wouldn't want to make Linnet wait that long for a Captaincy of her own. Maybe one of these two can take it over."
The words were out of her mouth before she was even conscious she was saying them. Admiral Lawrence's eyes widened.
"Well. You seem to have got over your hatred of your husband. I wonder whether another few months on training duty with Celeritas will also cure you of your impatience."
"But...Madam Admiral..." Even as Daine began to protest, however, she already knew it was fruitless. Breeding one's captains was all very well, but it meant the Corps was even more stringent about enforcing ground leave when it was necessary than it might otherwise have been.
"That's an order, Captain," Admiral Lawrence barked in her best Commander's voice, walking away before Daine could protest any further. Daine ran a hand through her hair in exasperation.
"Mithros! Why on earth did I let that slip? I'm going to have the most boring few months!"
"She only wants you well. And I for one agree with her. After all, she didn't say we couldn't go flying, just that we were on training duty," Kitten winked mischievously and Daine laughed.
"Goddess and Kyprioth bless you, Kit! What would I do without you?"
"Be very bored and very cross. Now, are you ever going to get around to my claws?"
"All right, all right!" Daine chuckled at her friend's impatience and bent down to attend to her claws.
"So Linnet is to be promised to the Corps and placed in line for a dragon of her own, our firstborn son is to be handed over to your father to be raised as the next Fitzweir Earl of Arran and our third child will be expected to take over either Kitten's Captaincy or Moonsword's. Do you think we'll ever have a child who can decide their own destiny?"
Numair lay back in bed, musing aloud. Daine propped herself up on one elbow to look at him as he lay there, one arm sprawled behind his head, cushioning the gap between it and the pillow.
"That depends," she said slowly. Numair arched an eyebrow.
"That depends, does it? And what, pray tell, does it depend on?"
"Why, on how much you enjoy the making of them, of course. I've heard it's much easier for a woman to conceive if she finds the process...satisfactory," Daine drew the last word out into a silken purr, curling her tongue around the syllables as though they were a pot of cream she was trying to empty.
As she'd expected, Numair's eyes darkened with lust at the very sound of them. Fast as a snake, he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her down on top of him, crushing his lips to hers.
"Satisfactory, you say?" he grumbled into the kiss, "I'll give you satisfactory, you minx!"
"Well," Daine mused, as they lay panting quite some time later, "One can't accuse Numair of not being a man of his word. That...experience really was most satisfactory indeed."