Every Thorn Has Its Rose Chapter 10
Two nights later, Rose was awakened by a rumble of thunder. Her first thought was toward the dragon, who was sleeping in the open and who had never experienced a thunderstorm before. She dressed in the darkness and ran through the pelting rain toward the barn, which Spina still used as a lair even though she could fit only her tail and hindquarters into it. By the next flash of lightning, she saw the Longwing looking upward.
"Spina! Are you all right?"
"Of course I am all right," Spina answered, without looking away from the sky. She spread out a wing to shelter her human friend from the rain. "A little water will do me no harm. But this is a remarkable display in the sky! What is it?"
"It's called lightning," Rose answered. "The sound that follows is called thunder. Thunder cannot harm you, but lightning can." At that moment, a forked bolt of lightning lit up the sky for a moment. Half a second later, the thunder cracked.
"Well, if this lightning comes too close to me, then I shall dodge it," Spina decided. "Where does it come from?"
"I don't know what causes lightning," Rose admitted. "Something happens in the clouds, and the lightning comes out and falls to earth. But when it passes through the air, it pushes the air aside, and when the air comes back together after the lightning passes, that causes the thunder. It's something like this." She clapped her hands. Spina tried to copy her, but dragon paws cannot form two flat surfaces like human palms can, and she was unable to make any sound.
"Could we fly up and see what causes the lightning?" the dragon asked.
"I think that would be bad," Rose answered. "As I said, lightning can hurt you if it touches you, and it moves very, very fast. It would be best if we stayed far away from it."
"It is a pity that the clouds are so high," Spina thought out loud. "I cannot quite fly high enough to reach them. Perhaps one of them will sink down lower some day, and I will be able to examine it more closely. I think the clouds are hiding secrets from me."
"Perhaps some day," Rose yawned, "but not tonight. Shall we try to sleep?"
"I suppose," Spina nodded, and curled herself around her friend. "There is not much else I can do tonight."
The lightning storm ended after about an hour, but the rain continued and the wind began to rise. The courier dragon arrived at sunrise that morning, and his rider seemed to be in an unusual hurry. Deliveries to Pen Y Fan tended to be low-key trips where rider and dragon could take their time and rest on the ground for a few hours, but not today. The rider didn't even dismount, but stayed on his dragon and motioned for Lt. Smalls, who had the duty that morning, to approach him. "What's the hurry, Keaggy?" Smalls asked.
"There's a big to-do along the western coast," Lt. Keaggy explained. "This isn't official news, but I think one of our dragons has gone missing. He was carrying something important. Most of the dragons in the Plymouth covert have flown north to search the sea and the shore for him. As soon as these dispatches are signed for, I have to report back to Swansea and get my own orders to help with the search."
"May I please take a drink?" Julius begged. "Just a little one. I am so very thirsty!"
"Sorry, Julius, but there isn't time," Keaggy corrected his dragon. "You can drink something in Swansea while I'm getting our orders."
Lt. Smalls signed for the dispatches, skimmed them for signs that something might be urgent, handed up the daily status reports that Lt. St. Hubbins and Ensign Smalls were required to submit, and watched the courier dragon flap away toward the southwest. St. Hubbins and Shrimpton joined him a few minutes later; he told them what the courier rider had told him.
"One more dragon might help in the search," St. Hubbins said thoughtfully. "I think I know what Spina's training program for today will look like."
"I wish you the best of luck with that," Shrimpton scoffed. "Do you think the commander in Swansea will have any use for a young dragon who hasn't gone through any kind of training? She's never even flown in a line before! Besides, these dispatches don't say anything about us joining the search. It's not for us to make up our own orders. If their Lordships want us to be involved, they will certainly tell us."
"Their Lordships are probably not thinking of making use of any of the breeding-ground dragons," St. Hubbins replied, "so Spina has probably escaped their notice. I'll let the commander in Swansea make that decision."
"You're forgetting one small thing, St. Hubbins," Smalls cut in. "What is the first rule of survival in the military? Never volunteer for anything!"
"If this is really important, then I'll risk it," St. Hubbins answered. "Also, I think it will be good for the dragon to do something useful. I'm seeing signs that she is getting bored. When a clever dragon gets bored, she will make up her own fun, and... I don't want to be nearby when that happens. Where is Ensign Smalls?"
"She wasn't in the barracks when I got up this morning," her brother answered. "Her bed was not made and her uniform was gone."
"I suppose I should see if she's with Spina first," the senior lieutenant decided. "That always seems a safe assumption to make, in her case." He pulled on a heavy-weather jacket and headed for the barn. The dragon was there, but there was no sign of Rose Smalls.
"Good morning, Spina," he called. "Have you seen your captain recently?"
"No, Lieutenant, sir, I have not seen her recently," the Longwing answered. But there was a slight twitch about her muzzle that meant she wasn't telling the entire truth.
"Spina, are you concealing something from me?"
"Well, because you asked..." She unwrapped a wing to reveal Rose, curled up on the ground next to her, sound asleep. "I spoke the truth when I said I had not seen her," Spina explained. "She has been there, securely out of sight under my wing, since late last night."
St. Hubbins shook his head; he'd been right about a bored dragon making her own fun. "In the future, I shall try to be more specific in the wording of my requests. Please wake her up; we have some important work to do today."
The dragon bent over and softly called, "Rose? It is morning. Please wake up." She added a quick flick of her tongue on Rose's cheek. It was a remarkably gentle gesture from so fearsome-looking a creature. As Rose began to stir, St. Hubbins felt another pang of regret that the dragon hadn't chosen him as her captain.
When Rose saw him, she stiffened and stood at attention. "Am I in trouble, sir?" she asked nervously.
"Not that I know of," the lieutenant answered drily. "If you are aware of something that you ought to confess, then please do so. If not, then tidy up your uniform, grab a quick breakfast, and get your foul-weather gear. We have some flying to do today, and it's not just a training drill." She saluted and ran for the mess tent.
"What are we going to do today?" Spina asked, suddenly very interested.
"One of our dragons is missing," St. Hubbins explained. "We are going to fly down to Swansea to ask the commander there if he would like us to help with the search."
"Oh, yes!" the dragon exclaimed. "That will be much better than flying back and forth in straight lines all morning."
"Those straight lines serve a purpose, Spina. When you join a squadron of dragons, you'll find that they do almost everything in straight lines, especially fighting."
"Why is that so?" she asked.
"Because that's how things are done," St. Hubbins explained patiently. "Soldiers on the ground fight in lines. Warships at sea fight in lines. And dragons fight in lines in the air. It's a sound military tactic that has been proven over and over again in battles all over the Empire."
"It does not sound like the best way to use the strengths of the various dragons," Spina said doubtfully.
"Well, when you have earned your admiral's epaulets, then you can tinker with aerial formations to your heart's content," the lieutenant answered with a trace of a smile. "But until then, you shall learn to fly in line ahead and line abreast. You will learn to keep in formation with the dragons ahead and astern, and with the dragons to either side of you. You will not break those formations unless your formation's commander orders you to do so. The straight-line flying drills that I have been inflicting on you will serve as a good foundation for the more arduous training that will follow. I don't expect you to thank me, but someday you will appreciate these trials. Oh, here comes Rose. Please prepare for flight."
Spina shook out her harness, called, "All lies well," allowed her captain and her senior rider to board her, and took a running start to get into the air. Rose consulted the small compass that was mounted on the main shoulder strap and gave Spina her directions.
"If I could fly above the clouds, then I could fly above this rain, and my riders would not get so wet," she thought out loud.
"Yes, but you can't," St. Hubbins replied. "Very few dragons can fly that high. It is very cold, and the air is difficult to breathe up there."
"That is curious," Spina said. "I should think that air would be the same everywhere."
"For some reason, it is not," Rose answered. "In any event, it will take us a bit less than two hours to reach Swansea. There, we shall receive further orders, and perhaps an explanation of what is going on."
"Or perhaps not," St. Hubbins corrected her. "In the military, the authorities will tell you precisely what they think you need to know, and not a whit more. We shall be thankful if they tell us the size and color of the dragon we are searching for. A full explanation is not usually given to lieutenants or ensigns."
"Or dragons?" Spina wondered.
"My friend, we have all cast our lot with each other, and we shall all be given the same instructions," Rose said. "I would be happier if I knew why this missing dragon was so important, but if their Lordships are unwilling to divulge that information to us, then we must be content to do our duty without that knowledge."
"Quite so," the lieutenant nodded. "You are beginning to think like a military man."
Rose replied, "Oh? Then I shall stop at once." She didn't look back, so he couldn't tell if she was serious or joking.
They landed at Swansea, which had a small covert for the comings and goings of the courier dragons, but no beasts assigned there. "Spina, wait here," St. Hubbins said as he dismounted.
"I don't suppose I could eat one of those cows in the next field?" she asked plaintively.
"If you did, we wouldn't get you off the ground for hours," Rose chuckled. "I know you have not had your breakfast yet, but a cow would weigh too heavily on you. I shall speak to the herdsman and see if he has a goat or a small pig for you. You can eat a full meal when we return to the breeding grounds."
"I suppose I must be content with that," Spina said resignedly as she lay down and crossed her forelegs. "But I must confess, the more often I encounter this concept of 'duty,' the less I like it." Rose went in search of a herdsman, while St. Hubbins sought out the local Admiralty office.
"Can I help you, sir?" the enlisted man at the front desk asked.
"Lt. St. Hubbins on Spina, reporting to assist with the search for the missing dragon," he said formally.
The man frowned. "I don't recall seeing your name on the orders. Pray wait here; I shall consult with Commodore Starkey." He knocked on a closed door, waited to hear someone call, "Enter!" and went inside. He returned a minute later, accompanied by an older man wearing a commodore's epaulets.
"Greetings, Lieutenant. On Spina, you say?" he asked querulously. "I can't say I recall that name."
"You wouldn't, sir. Spina is our first Longwing."
The commodore shook his head. "I haven't heard of Longwings, either. Is this one of Admiral White's pet projects to improve the breed?"
"Yes, sir, and this particular experiment has turned out quite well."
The older man half-smiled at that. "So she can fly fast and far?"
"Yes, sir. She's called a Longwing for a reason."
"Good," the commodore nodded. "Does she have fighting spirit?"
"She has more than enough of that, sir. She's constantly querying us about England's enemies, and asking when she will be allowed to fight them."
"Better yet. Is she obedient and biddable?"
St. Hubbins squirmed. "Well... yes, sir, to her own captain."
"Which means you, of course. Right, Lieutenant?"
"Well, sir, there's a bit of a complication there..."
The commodore scowled. "I don't like complications, Lieutenant. Discipline, order, and predictability shall always carry the day. What sort of complication are we talking about here?"
"Sir... at hatching, she rejected all the offered rider candidates, and chose a civilian instead. Nothing we can say or do has induced her to change her mind."
"A civilian?! Outrageous! Where did that dragon get such a useless idea?"
"She hatched with it, sir. I assure you, Admiral White did everything humanly possible to arrange a more suitable captain, but the dragon would not bend. He has inducted the civilian into the Corps; it was the best he could do."
The commodore scratched his chin. "But you said you're her rider. You're no civilian! Both your posture and the wear and tear of your uniform tell me you've been in the Corps for years. What are you trying to tell me?"
St. Hubbins looked unhappy. "As I said, sir, it's a complication."
Starkey looked even more unhappy. "I can certainly use another searcher, but I will not send an unknown dragon out into a storm when there are unknown complications involved. Take me to this dragon."
"As you wish, sir. While we walk, can you tell me something about the dragon we're going to search for?"
"Yes, once we're safely out of town." They walked in silence until the Commodore was certain that no one else was listening. Even then, he spoke very quietly. "We are trying to bring in a defector from the French army who says he has useful information about the Spanish, which he will sell to us in exchange for a comfortable life. To ensure that he was not followed and caught, we chose an indirect route. He rode a fishing smack from the Normandy coast to Ireland. From there, he boarded Expialadocious, who was to bring him to Milford Haven in Wales, and a carriage waited there to bring him to London by night. But Expialadocious has not arrived. We fear that he may have gotten lost during the storm, possibly injured, and has had to land somewhere along the coast of the Bristol Channel. It is vital that we find him quickly, both because he is a valuable dragon and because his passenger is even more valuable. We don't want the man to come down with pneumonia and die before we've heard what he has to say."
"Understood, sir," St. Hubbins nodded.
"Expialadocious is a Malachite Reaper, with colors typical of the breed. If he landed in greenery, he may be difficult to see from the air. In most other types of terrain, he ought to be easy enough to find. What kind of experience do you and your dragon have in aerial searching?"
"This will be our first time searching together, sir, but I've been on four or five searches of various kinds on other dragons."
The commodore obviously approved of that. "Ahh, yes! Experience, that's the thing! One well-trained English rider on a good dragon can defeat two of those untrained Frenchies in the air. When the Spanish get here, we'll give them what-for, and make no mistake about it!" Then he caught sight of Spina, and his speech ended. Rose had kept her word and brought a medium-sized pig for the dragon's breakfast; the dragon was making hungry, gory inroads on it. The commodore watched for a few seconds.
"She's not a large beast, is she? The Admiral really expects great things from this one?"
"Sir, she's less than two weeks out of the shell," St. Hubbins explained. "She shows every sign of growing to be a middleweight."
"Two weeks!" The older officer was thunderstruck. "You're trying to send an immature, untrained hatchling out on a vital search mission in foul weather?"
"Sir, she's a strong flier, and she wants to do something useful for Queen and country! You said yourself that this search is vitally important; can we afford to keep any dragons on the ground when they want to fly and help out?"
The commodore was about to answer when he noticed Rose, who was watching the dragon eat.
"Lieutenant," he began, in a suddenly very tired voice, "I was willing to give you the benefit of the doubt, and consider sending you out there to search. But this... this is quite unaccountable. I am placing you on report."
"Sir?"
"Putting your girl friend in a Corps uniform!" The older officer was plainly disgusted. "Not only is it a complete violation of every regulation in the book, it's also in terribly poor taste! You're mocking every man who bled and died in that uniform. I should have you clapped in irons, but this search is absorbing all my energy; I don't have time to deal with you as I should. But rest assured, you shall pay for this. Who is your commanding officer?"
"Sir, because of this special breeding project, I am temporarily reporting directly to Admiral White. But Ensign Smalls is –"
"Another likely story. Well, I shall report you to Admiral White, and if you're lying about answering to him, then that will be a double black mark on your record. Whereas, if you're telling the truth... I have experienced his temper for lesser offences, and I would not envy your position for all the tea in India. Take a long last look at your rank insignia, Lieutenant, because you won't be wearing them for much longer!" He turned on his heel and stormed back toward town.
"But, sir!" St. Hubbins called after him. "What about the search?"
The commodore spun and shook an angry finger at him. "You can search for a new line of work! And your dragon can search for another rider!" He headed back to his headquarters in a foul mood. St. Hubbins slumped back toward Spina, who was finishing her meal, oblivious to what had just happened. Rose noticed the lieutenant's long face.
"No orders to search for the missing dragon?" She was quite surprized at that.
"No orders, and he's putting me on report," St. Hubbins said, his voice full of discouragement.
"On report?" Spina asked as she licked her chops. "For what?"
"Putting my girl friend in a Corps uniform."
"Putting your what?" Rose was indignant. "Is that what you told him I am?"
"Nothing of the sort!" St. Hubbins protested. "He jumped to that conclusion on his own, and he didn't give me a chance to disabuse him of that notion. I assure you, I told him no falsehoods of any kind."
"Are you in trouble because of this?" Spina asked solicitously.
"From this episode? Hardly," St. Hubbins laughed bitterly. "The commodore's report will go to Admiral White's desk, where the Admiral will write 'Duly noted' in the margin and stick it in a special file where papers go in and never come out again. He knows about your uniform and he has chosen not to make an issue of it. But I fear this is just the first of many such incidents that are going to follow you two wherever you go."
"Perhaps this is none of my concern," Rose said slowly, "but is it going hurt your career to ride with us?"
"Riding with Spina? No. Riding with you? Maybe. But careers in the Corps aren't like other military careers. In the Army and the Navy, the goal is to rise in rank as high as possible. Privates want to become sergeants, sergeants wish they were lieutenants, lieutenants work to become captains, and so on up the ranks until you reach flag rank. But in the Aviator Corps, the ultimate goal is not to wear stars on your shoulder, but to ride on a dragon's shoulder. As soon as a dragon chooses you as his rider, your career has hit its high point, and the rest is almost an anticlimax, in terms of advancement. We still get promotions, and we appreciate them, but no promotion can equal the thrill and the joy of that first flight on your special flying friend. Spina is your friend, not mine, but I am still assigned to her, I hope to stay with her, and the chances are small that I would get a chance at another dragon if Spina rejected me for some reason.
"The upshot of all that is, no matter what happens as a result of riding with you, it won't matter to me, because I can ride with Spina. They can promote me or they can demote me; they can give me a medal or they can make me surrender my pay; but as long as this amazing dragon lets me ride her and fight on her, I will be considered a success in the Corps. And I shall be happy."
"That gives me a lot of control over your future," Rose noted with some surprize. "If I persuaded Spina to reject you, it would be all over for you."
"Are you thinking of doing that?" the lieutenant asked with a twinge of nervousness.
"No, not a bit. I'm just unaccustomed to having any influence over anyone at all. It's an odd feeling." She paused. "I don't think I like it. I never tried to influence Spina against Lt. Tufnel, and I wouldn't do it to you, either. She's a good enough judge of character; she doesn't need to be influenced. You have nothing to fear from me."
"I hoped that might be the case, but it relieves me to hear it," St. Hubbins nodded. "Spina, it appears that they do not want our services. Are you ready to fly us back home?"
"Will I have to fly in straight lines when we return?" Spina asked.
"No; by the time we return to the breeding ground, I think you will have done all the flying your young wings can handle. Your day will be done when we arrive."
"Can I eat a cow when we arrive?" she asked even more plaintively.
"If there are any cows left on the breeding grounds, then yes, you bottomless pit, you can take one for your lunch," St. Hubbins agreed. They climbed aboard, clipped themselves to the harness, and braced themselves as she ran and leaped into the sky.
The next day, they learned from the morning courier that the missing dragon had been found near Cardigan, nowhere near where they might have been sent to search; he had been waiting out the storm on the ground. The important passenger had been safely delivered to London by air. Their entire misadventure had been for nothing.