Disclaimer: Temeraire and all characters were Created by Naomi Novik. I'm just a fan, imitating.

This story is set in the beginning of Victory of Eagles; SPOILERS

Chapter 5

In which Mr. Granby reveals his suspicions of Mr. Tharkay.

Jane left her ground crew in their preparations for departure and marched over to Iskierka's clearing. Iskierka was curled on her side with one arm curled around Granby's tent, tilting it slightly in embrace. Jane had to press up against Iskierka's arm to get into the opening.

"Mister Granby!" She said in exasperation, and Granby shot up like an arrow. His eyes were wide in surprise and color flooded into his face and ears. He gaped up at her with nothing to say. "Who is flying the patrol this morning then?"

"Dunne is out with Arkady and a few others," he said finding his voice, "I ordered the switch last night once we settled the altercation." Granby paused and yawned deeply, "Pardon me. Iskierka has had a late night, and I wanted to give her a chance to rest."

Jane's mouth was drawn into a tight line. She looked Granby up and down once more and turned and left the tent. She stalked back toward the officer's billeting to collect the remainder of her things.

On her way up the stairs she caught Frette carrying a beaten sea chest. He smiled at her nonchalantly as he passed.

Jane entered her room and paused inside to rub her temples.

"They had decided not to come back," Jane nearly jumped at the sound of his voice but she wheeled around to face him.

"Tharkay what—!"

He was sitting in a chair near her map table with one leg draped casually over its arm. He was wearing his padded jacket and his fur lined cap and cradling something fuzzy and gray in his hand. Jane glared at him with cold disdain and he enraged her further by offering a casual smile.

"I didn't want to follow them at first," he said offhandedly, "What difference does it make to me if they flutter off and fend for themselves? But then I thought, what kind of person would I be if I renege on my own good word after I have given it? People might think me uncouth."

"You brought them back?" Jane said. Her eyes widened in shock.

"For the time being. They aren't too happy living with Arkady," he shrugged and turned his attention to what Jane guessed was a rabbit or a kitten.

"Have you thought about—" Jane started to ask, but Tharkay was already shaking his head. He smiled at her again.

"But I'll stay here and help Granby with the feral dragons," he stood and the creature he was holding spread its wings to balance itself against his sudden movement.

"A baby owl," Jane said startled by the flapping wings.

"A fledgling kestrel," he corrected and held the bird up so she could see it clearly.

"What are you doing with that?"

"One of those dragons knocked the nest out of a tree. Her brothers are dead and her parents have been frightened off. She's starting fly though," he said slipping a leather hood over her head with a practiced hand.

Jane smiled, "Aw, how very kind—"

"Oh now don't get all mawkish!" Tharkay said and walked out of the room.

Jane stared at his abrupt departure. She smiled, relieved that he was staying to help. Jane moved to stare out of her window, watching the harried movements as four full formations were being packed up. She saw Tharkay and watched him closely as he strode up the rise and into the covert.

Granby squinted into the chill winter air; every now and again a puff of warm air would hit him as Iskierka twisted to retrace her path. He looked up when a shadow crossed overhead; Molnar had come over them from above. Though he had seen Tharkay perform the feat several times in the last two days, he watched eagerly for it again. Suddenly, a lithe figure silhouetted by the weak winter sun leapt from Molnar's back. Granby watched in awe as he hung in the air for a moment, like he was flying. Then the figure broke into a panic of flailing arms and legs and Granby's curiosity became concern. Molnar was too far above Iskierka for it to work and his heart sank as the falling figure neared them and his screams came into hearing range. It was Dunne coming at them in a mad headlong rush.

Then immediately, his falling stopped and Dunne was hanging in midair by two long leather straps, still screaming for his mother and all the saints in high heaven. Granby smiled when he saw Tharkay wave down before hauling Dunne back onto Molnar's back. He wasn't sure how they'd use that one anyway.

Granby watched as a line of ferals flew past each carrying a single rider. Some of the young captains had felt slighted by Tharkay's appearance, after all, he'd abandoned them as soon as he could to make for the wilderness on the other side of the empire and they'd got along reasonably well without him for over a year. But the tensions were starting to fade already, as the shortcomings in their ability to communicate were made readily apparent by their lack of proficiency.

Tharkay did not share with him the reasons for the Persian dragons' departure, and even still they maintained their aloofness accepting no riders except Demane or Tharkay himself. The four dragons were not really the better specimens of the assorted ferals he had in the covert, but Jane had made it perfectly clear that she wasn't willing to have dragons out of the group. He wasn't going to let anything undermine his fragile authority again.

Granby watched from a rise overlooking the pens as the dragons were fed. Iskierka was allowed in first and she claimed her share quickly and left to eat in private. Arkady and his lieutenant went next and made a great show of the carnage while the others looked on in anticipation. But there were four dragons standing apart from them. They reminded Granby of beaten dogs, skittish and shy. He saw Tharkay walking toward them and ran down the slope to catch him up.

Tharkay paused when Granby, red-faced and panting, drew up beside him. Tharkay just stared at him for several moments, impassive, while Granby caught his breath. The Persian dragons greeted Tharkay enthusiastically and gazed upon Granby with interest. Granby listened while Tharkay greeted them and made introductions and he decided immediately that he liked the sound of Persian much more than Durzagh.

"They wish Iskierka good health and compliments," Tharkay said turning to look at him, "They also hope that you are well." Granby responded with enthusiasm and studied them more closely.

The largest of the Persian dragons was a bright orange red that reminded him of Iskierka. He had spikes similar to hers forming an intimidating crown on his head, but the rest of his body was smooth. He was stockier in the legs and his tail was short and thick. His wings were large for a dragon of his size and there were a few holes in the membrane of his left wing. Up close he could see myriad scars over his hide. Granby wondered if the dragon had been harnessed in the past.

All four of them were small, but that was not uncommon among ferals. They were much more subdued in personality and shy around the volatile Pamir ferals, though they seemed very interested in people. The smallest of the group was a bright-eyed female—smaller even than Gherni—that had dull brown scales with a few blotches of pearlescent color on her back and shoulders. She approached Granby immediately and studied him with unabashed curiosity. Tharkay patted her nose and said to Granby, "Her name is Nargess, she used to work in the court of the Shah, but she was lured away by the prospect of freedom," he motioned toward the red dragon, "Simorgh; he and Raksh, were bred for the military, but were let go due to unwanted traits. Wrong size or wrong color. Shabrang," Tharkay motioned to the black dragon, larger than Raksh, who had a broad flat head and broad powerful shoulders, "was born amongst desert tribesmen in Southern Persia and left when his companion died."

Granby offered his hand to Simorgh and the dragon put out his inquisitive tongue, long and snake-like, to test his scent. "You flew very well, today," Granby said.

Tharkay shot him a glance but didn't translate. Simorgh said something and Tharkay only shook his head. Granby's brow furrowed, could they be plotting something? The dragons started to speak among themselves and Tharkay was making no effort to translate for him. He let it go on for a few minutes before grabbing Tharkay's shoulder.

"What are they saying?" he said. Tharkay gave him a dark look and shrugged him off. Simorgh addressed Tharkay directly and his answer sounded very negative to Granby. Tharkay spoke with them until they left for the pens to receive two cows to share among themselves. Then he turned to Granby and said, "I don't think you need to worry about them, at least for the time being."

"Do they have a complaint about the covert?" Granby said when he found Tharkay later that night. He had decided to forgo pleasantry and ask him directly. Tharkay was sitting in front of his tent near a small fire feeding small scraps of rabbit to a gray raptor. He refused even to look up from his chore and meet Granby's eye.

"Tharkay, I don't appreciate you keeping things from me," Granby said, he could feel the heat rushing to his face as he spoke, "How am I supposed to keep things settled in this covert if you don't properly report?"

"I don't report to you," Tharkay said in cool defiance. The bird screeched and flapped her wings. Granby swore.

"I'm not here to question the sequence of things," he said, "But I have orders to protect the Channel with whatever resources I have at hand. You're the only one that can speak to those dragons. If you won't tell me what they are saying, I am left to believe that they mean to incite some mischief within the covert. I—"

"Granby you are making very ugly insinuations about this," Tharkay said innocently, "They are not plotting anything of the sort."

"Then why don't you tell me what they said?"

"Because I don't think you will like it."

"I am the senior commander of this covert!"

"And I am a man who has happened along your company," Tharkay smiled and Granby swore again and stomped away from Tharkay's tent only to turn around and stomp back to him.

"I have gold," he said and Tharkay laughed as he hooded his kestrel and stood to put her in her cage. Granby followed him, "I will pay you to stay here and report to me."

"I don't want your gold Captain," Tharkay said not bothering to hide the amusement in his voice.

"If you mean to be difficult I will have you tied," Granby said red faced and fuming. Tharkay made a face of exaggerated fear and sat back down beside the fire.

"Oh my," he said derisively and Granby called him a rude name.

The next morning found Granby irritable and ill from the previous night. He had his hands clenched on the harness straps so tight his forearms ached. Tharkay had joined them on the ground as they readied the patrol but when Granby said he'd rather not have a man at his back that he couldn't trust, Tharkay only shrugged and left the clearing.

With Tharkay absent, the Persian dragons refused to fly; with four dragons grounded, several of Arkady's band decided they would rather not fly either. Out of thirty-three he only had nineteen on patrol. Granby cursed out loud but it was lost to the wind. Just thinking about it infuriated him. His frustration had kept him up most of the night and he'd been forced to find sleep and solace in a bottle. He was starting to doubt himself again.

After another uneventful patrol made more somber by Granby's dour mood, the captains saw to the feeding of the dragons. Granby stalked off almost as soon as they landed to brood in his tent. He noticed that Tharkay's things had been gathered into a small neat pile topped with the caged kestrel and it made him curse as he entered his own tent.

His old coat was folded neatly on his cot. Granby didn't like it—if it was meant as an apology he found it to be cowardly. Besides, Granby thought sourly, this was Tharkay, and the gesture probably had a cryptic and ultimately derisive meaning. Granby reached out a hand to grab up the old coat and then paused in dismay to see the gaudy gold braid in the sleeves of the coat he was wearing.

Granby stripped off his decorated coat and petulantly pulled the other on. He had bought it used years ago from another aviator and even then it was several inches too short and showed too much wrist. He struggled in the constricting sleeves of the coat before taking it off and letting it fall on the floor.

Granby dropped himself face down in the cot and closed his eyes. Before he even had a chance to draw in a sigh he heard rising wails of Durzagh outside. Granby groaned in complaint and covered his head in his arms. The noise continued to grow and finally Granby stood and pulled on his coat in all its tawdriness. He paused at the tent opening to run his fingers through his hair and stepped out.

He looked up shocked to see Curran being helped along by Dunne and Allen as they made their way toward the administrative buildings.

"Curran, what—" Granby started to say.

"Nothing to worry about," Curran replied through clenched teeth, "The Oriental has them quieted now." Curran gave a hiss of pain through his teeth and urged the other two onward.

Granby frowned and hurried back to the clearing near the feeding pens. The first thing he saw was Iskierka as she was lying at the edge of the field her gaze directed at the proceedings in the center of the field with rapt attention. Arkady and his lieutenants, Winge and Molnar, were composed and relaxed. They rested on their bellies with their legs splayed awkwardly to the sides like rock lizards. Simorgh and his tiny band were more agitated sitting upright on their haunches with their forelegs straight. The other dragons and most of the rest of the captains were ringed behind Arkady. In the center Tharkay was moving around his arms gesturing as he spoke.

"Are you well, love?" Granby said when he was near enough to Iskierka.

"I'm not hurt," she said and put her head down dejectedly, "He told me to be quiet. He said I was making things worse."

Granby put a hand on the side of her neck behind her jaw. He didn't want to respond to that. He was angry that someone would have the audacity to correct his dragon, and yet he'd suffered the results of her well-meant mischief. He was shocked too that she would even listen.

"He said it in Turkish," Iskierka said dismally as if hearing Granby's thoughts.

Tharkay spoke with the dragons for almost an hour switching back and forth from the abrasive Durzagh to the musical Persian. They seemed satisfied when they finally turned to find their sleeping spots. The other captains filed out toward the mess and Tharkay was standing alone in the center of the clearing. Granby wasn't sure because the distance was substantial, but he thought the man was looking at him. Granby let out a sigh and then waved him over.