Another shot rang out, another moment of unconscious panic seized Granby's heart. The shot had not hit him; instead it blasted a young mid-wing man from his post. Crying out the young man, whose name Granby could not recall, plunged to his death to the field below. They had been fighting for hours in the heat; two English dragons had gone down though none from Lily's formation. Temeraire roared out in anger as he snapped at the Pou-de-Ciel beside him. On the ground troops were indistinguishable from one another; all the men fought and fought blindly killing their own comrades no doubt. The battle in the air was faring better than that on the land, by infantry men, England was vastly outnumbered but in dragons Granby thought if only for a precious moment that they had the upper hand. Somewhere amid the chaos he momentarily let his eyes search for Captain Little and Immortalius. There was no sign of them.
"Temeraire no! Do not use the divine wind you will blow away our men on the ground, it is too close!" Granby heard Laurence desperately try to communicate over the roar of battle. Temeraire did not say anything but only made a noise of acknowledgement and tried to swipe once more at the French dragon that swerved out of the way, diving downward. Temeraire did not pursue her but continued to fly in formation with the others. Maximus and Berkley were busy trying to take down a Pou-de-Ciel to their left, screams and gun fire could be heard from all directions. Granby looked through the haze but could see nothing; arms were quickly around him as he flung himself forward, hitting Temeraire's hard scales slicked with sweat. He heard a grunt and quickly reached for his pistol, a French crewman had jumped aboard with his fellows. Granby shot him before he could rise and ran to Temeraire's left side. Men were climbing about with swords and guns stabbing into the dragons hide. For his part, Temeraire was in too much of a frenzy to notice. He was busy attacking the French dragon who was beginning to tire out. Quickly he struck the dragon across its shoulder, deep claws racking into its flesh. The Pou-de-Ciel screamed in rage and lunged for Temeraire's throat but the celestial was too quick. In a flash Temeraire reached forward and struck his claws into the other dragon's chest. In instinct the French dragon pulled away and fled despite its captain's orders. Several men fell screaming to their deaths as the dragon's tail scratched along Temeraire's side in its retreat. Granby did not have time to look, he stabbed another man through the throat with his shot sword and kicked another hard in the stomach, sending him tumbling over the edge. From the corner of his eye he could see the other dragons of the formation: they too were fighting their own battles and the Wing
The remainder of the Pou-de-Cie's crew fought valiantly, though they were unsuccessful. Granby killed four more men and saw both Laurence and young Emily Roland kill three others. Finally the last man had been subdued.
"Is that the last of them?" Temeraire panted as he continued to fly, desperately trying to stay in formation though it was useless.
"I believe so my dear," Laurence said wiping blood from his forehead off with his sleeve.
Had Iskierka been here, we could've just burned them all and no one, or at least less of our men would be killed. Granby could not help thinking as he bent to were a young man of Temeraire's crew lay, his arm blown off and his mouth agape with terror. Suddenly a roar of pain broke his ears. Imminently Granby glanced at his carabineer unless Temeraire had taken a hit to the wing, but it was not Temeraire's roar which sounded. Through the haze of smoke and the smell of rot from below Granby could see Maximus flailing uncontrollably. It was not until moments later when he saw Berkley gesturing and mouth opened yelling wildly that he knew the cause. A French Long Wing had spit acid at his tail and now it began to eat through his scales at a terrifying velocity.
"Quick Temeraire, to Maximus; hover above him if you can you don't want to get hit." Temeraire didn't need further encouragement. In a flash he was hovering anxiously above the Regal Copper. Granby winced as guns fired from the French dragon crews pelting Temeraire's sides with bullets and making small holes in his ebony wings. The Celestial however, paid no mind to this either and swung his head back and forth in anxiety. Granby watched with equal shock:
"It's spreading!" One of Maximus's mid-wing men shouted. Berkley nodded gravely and whispered something to his dragon that was in too much panic to comprehend and continued to thrash dangerously.
"Men, ready your swords!" He called, taking out his own as he descended down the length of Maximus's back. Bullets fired from either side, a man to Granby's right screamed as one took him through the back. Granby took aim at the nearest French dragon, a Petit-Chevalier and fired. The dragon roared and went down, the bullet striking its skull. He watched as much in awe as in horror as the men aboard scrambled and screamed as the dragon fell like a stone, down the battle below. No doubt its impact killed as many French soldiers as it did British, but Granby had no time for sorrow. He smiled for a moment, thinking of how Iskierka would react if she were here. Another roar from Maximus brought Granby out of his dream and back into battle. His men and captain had succeeded in cutting off the bottom half of his tail, a surgeon on board was already starting to wrap the stump. As Granby watched he felt something sharp hit his left side and he staggered forward. Somewhere, Laurence screamed his name.
"I'm alright captain, it's just a…" he lifted his hand, it was bloodstained. He looked in alarm as he spotted the wound, above his hip but below the stomach. It bled profusely and his staggered forward, unable to place himself or make sense of any coordination. The last thing he saw was Laurence running to him with concern on his face.
Iskierka, I'm so sorry. Then all went black.
Granby opened his eyes, it was hot the worried face of captain Little came slowly into view.
"Jack…?" the officer smiled and reached a hand out touching his forehead. There was no noise of battle outside, no gunshots or roars of dragons, only the moans of the injured and dying. Granby looked at himself, all appeared to be in order, he was lying on his back on a filthy cot in what appeared to be a tent.
Pity, I thought for a moment the heat was from Iskierka. Should've known, she always manages to prick me with her spikes whenever she curls about. The thought made him smile for a moment, but only just. The stench of blood and excrement burned his nose as he tried to sit up. Terrible pain seared through him, Little put a gentle hand on his shoulder easing him down and offered him a small sack from his belt.
"Water, drink it." Gratefully, Granby took it realizing how truly parched he was. "You've been out for hours, took a bullet to the side. Surgeons said it nearly missed your kidney. Not just any bullet either, one of those Russian spiked ones the frogs must have redesigned meant for dragons. It's a miracle you're alive by God." Granby nodded in thanks handing the flask back to Little as he eased down again.
"How goes the battle?" Little's smile broadened,
"Won!" Granby could only nod, still to daze to comprehend.
"Laurence and Temeraire?" Little's smile ceased.
"Laurence has been wounded, nothing major only a few scratches. A bullet scathed his arm but he'll be alright. I'm afraid Temeraire took a gruesome mauling to the neck and chest, one of his wings has been broken." Dred filled Granby's stomach; Iskierka is going to kill me if she finds out I let Temeraire get hurt. "Keynes says he'll heal in time though, nothing fatal." Granby nodded, looking around the sick tent. Infantry men and aviators alike lay in a ruined state, the man beside him appeared to be a general whose face was so bloody and beaten Granby couldn't tell whom it was, or grimmer still if he was alive.
"Immortalius is well?" Little nodded, though he looked away,
"Poor creature filled with bullets, none vital or infected yet. He will manage I suppose, we all will, somehow. The French might have been beaten but I do not think we will feel the victory of it for some time; 15,000 dead or wounded by Wellington's estimate."
"Yes, we will manage somehow." There was a long uncomfortable silence for some time before Granby got the courage to ask what he had been fearing most:
"Iskierka has not shown up and set the whole damn country on fire?" Little shook his head as relief and sadness flooded Granby's mind. He lay down again, examining the bloody bandage on his side.
"I'll get that," Little said, his fingers rushing quickly to undo the cloth and replace it. Granby closed his eyes silently thanking him, though Little's small comforts could not block dread from his mind.
"If we ever get out of this, I don't know how I will ever face her again Jack."
"Who, Iskierka?" Granby sighed, his body shivering though it sweated with heat.
"I said some aweful things to her before we left. The worst part about them is that they are true, or at least I thought they were, I don't know. I told her I would've waited my entire life for another dragon if I knew she was going to be like she is." Little stopped his work at Granby's wound, his eyes surprised.
"That's mighty harsh of you John." They met eyes then and had they been in a different place at a different time, Granby would've made some intimate gesture, a touch of the hand or cheek, perhaps even a small kiss. But the two of them had learned in years of secrecy that a single gaze could communicate what any amount of tenderness could not and so they only held each other's eyes for a moment.
"I know it was, but I said it anyways and oh if only I could take it back I would. She had been difficult before this but then, at the battle over the channel she insisted on lighting the sky ablaze. She gave away Messoria and Sutton's positions and that Flamme-de-Glorie, they are dead because of…"
"Because of her," Little affirmed as he refreshed Granby's bandage; he hissed in discomfort for it stung persistently but quickly held his tongue.
"It was as much her fault as it was mine, if I had better control over her she never would've gotten away with it and Jane, why she…she threatened to execute her Jack." Granby's voice trembled at the end but he only closed his eyes, suddenly exhausted. In his mind he remembered Iskierka's inconvenient hatching, her fiery temper and resilience, her plan to marry him off to the Sapa-Inca and other equally ridiculous schemes of hers. Her rueful stubbornness and her determination, her complete autonomy: they were her best and worst qualities. They were the traits that Granby resented, and cherished the most in her. A small portion of him felt disappointed she had not come and raised hell, though a greater point of him was grateful. He knew it only must have been out of fear if she had remained content back at the covert. Perhaps Jane's threatening had worked its trick. Little's touch upon his shoulder brought him back:
"Don't worry John, she is a little spitfire but that is why you must love her you see. You are the only one who can and she cares deeply for you. Immortalius often complains of her I must admit but he always says that her one redeeming quality is her admiration for her captain. She must be broken hearted, though I won't pity her. She's broken your heart on plenty more occasions. Heal up, we'll have you back to her tantrums soon enough. Think of this as a holiday." He smiled and stood in a bow then left without further ceremony. Granby watched him go before settling back down into his mat which was very lumpy after all.
He lay still, his eyes closed off from the reality of the aftermath of battle outside, he filled his ears with the words and laughter of Iskierka instead of the pleas of dying wounded men. In and out of slumber his mind wondered, dreams poured into him continuously as he slept in fever unaware of the progress of his wounds. Dreams of no one but his dragon: in one of the dreams, he was killed by a sword upon Temeraire's back and the last thing he saw was her diving into view screaming his name. In another dream, Admiral Roland had carried out her threat; beheading Iskierka as she cried for him to return. Another dream he lay wounded and bleeding from his side as she curled around him desperately trying to help as he struggled to apologize. One particularly realistic dream featured Iskierka being chained up in the courtyard too worried to eat and with an egg that caused her great pain. A French dragon came to attack the covert and burned it down, she became trapped and bound in chains choking from smoke and crying out to him.
"Granby…Granby…GRANBY!"
"Iskierka I'm here!" He snarled and grasped his side as he suddenly came to. It was now night, though he could not tell how many nights or days it had been. The general next to him was no longer there, now it was an aviator who had a wound across their chest. The tent was no less crowded then it had been before but now it was Laurence, not Little who stood over him. He put a reassuring hand on his shoulder.
"Easy there captain, I am sure Iskierka is fine." Granby trembled, panic mothered in guilt gripped him so tightly he shook, sweat beading from his brow, he breathed so heavy it hurt his wound.
"Laurence…Laurence we must go back to the covert at once. I am terribly sorry, how is Temeraire, Captain Little told me he was wounded horribly. Laurence…Iskierka,…she…I must speak with her…we must go as soon as we are able." Laurence nodded and patted his back.
"You must have much to say to her, we will leave shortly. In fact I believe Admiral Roland has finished speaking with Wellington this morning and has begun getting crews ready to leave at once. Temeraire cannot fly, I will be taking dragon transport with him tomorrow but I am sure if you are feeling physically adequate you could find a crew to take you." Granby nodded and smiled for the first time in a long time, reaching a hand out to Laurence's shoulder and gripping it tight, saying somewhat sheepishly,
"Thank you my friend, thank you." Laurence nodded and stood up.
"You are welcome John, now I must see to my dragon. I suggest you do the same." Granby nodded, appreciating the smile on Laurence's face. Laurence helped him stand, much to Granby's urging and repeated arguments with the surgeons but eventually made to where the remainder of the dragon's and their crews were being rigged out. Admiral Roland was overseeing the procedures accordingly. She rounded on Granby the moment he came into view.
"Captain Granby, I did not expect to see you for some days. It is good to see you again, you fare well?" He nodded. "I am sure you are anxious to get back to your little demon?"
"With all due respect Admiral, as you recall my relations with Iskierka were unpleasant upon our parting. We have much to remedy her and I, I would like to return to start that process as soon as possible with your permission. That is at least…" and here he found himself utterly at a loss for words. "At least…if she is still…" Roland raised a brow at him, her head inclined.
"I haven't had her eliminated if that is what you are babbling about Captain. I am sure she is throwing a righteous temper tantrum as we speak which I would indeed like you to remedy. I shall give you and that beast one last chance. Not like there is a chance to be had, she doesn't deserve it but by God Granby do not make me regret giving you this chance. The next dragon to die by her flame will be she herself." Anger and sickness knotted in Granby's stomach but he forced himself to swallow it as a nervous glance from Laurence made its way to his eyes. Instead he only nodded and bowed as much as he could manage.
"Come one then," she said visibly brightening as she hopped aboard Excidium. "Get on, we haven't got all day." Granby smiled, bowing to Laurence as they helped him climb up.
"I will see you soon Laurence, thank you and give my best to Temeraire." Laurence nodded,
" and to you." They were aloft before more exchanged could be made. Relief from the release of battle soon faded, growing into a more sinister and sickening prospect. Granby looked ahead from his lying place in Excidium's belly rigging.
I'm coming Iskierka, please wait just a little longer and we may sort this out yet. But Granby knew he had a better chance of Parliament accepting his and Little's committed relations.
Originaly I was going to have the conversation about Iskierka be between Laurence and Granby but then decided to have it between Little and Granby instead. This fic is more about Granby than it is about Laurence and I wanted to incorperate Granby/Little's relationship into it!
Get good karma and review please! Thank you!