"Naomi Novik - Temeraire 1 - His Majesty's Dragon" - читать интересную книгу автора (Novik Naomi)

“It is a dragon egg, then?” Laurence said. It required an effort to restrain the triumph in his voice.

“Oh, yes indeed, Captain, the size alone shows that.” Mr. Pollitt had wiped his hands on his apron and
was already brushing more straw away from the top, trying to see the extent. “My, it is quite hardened
already; I wonder what they can have been thinking, so far from land.”

This did not sound very promising. “Hardened?” Laurence said sharply. “What does that mean?”

“Why, that it will hatch soon. I will have to consult my books to be certain, but I believe that Badke’s
Bestiary states with authority that when the shell has fully hardened, hatching will occur within a week.
What a splendid specimen, I must get my measuring cords.”

He bustled away, and Laurence exchanged a glance with Gibbs and Riley, moving closer so they might
speak without being overheard by the lingering gawkers. “At least three weeks from Madeira with a fair
wind, would you say?” Laurence said quietly.

“At best, sir,” Gibbs said, nodding.

“I cannot imagine how they came to be here with it,” Riley said. “What do you mean to do, sir?”

His initial satisfaction turning gradually into dismay as he realized the very difficult situation, Laurence
stared at the egg blankly. Even in the dim lantern light, it shone with the warm luster of marble. “Oh, I
am damned if I know, Tom. But I suppose I will go and return the French captain his sword; it is no
wonder he fought so furiously after all.”




Except of course he did know; there was only one possible solution, unpleasant as it might be to
contemplate. Laurence watched broodingly while the egg was transferred, still in its crate, over to the
Reliant: the only grim man, except for the French officers. He had granted them the liberty of the
quarterdeck, and they watched the slow process glumly from the rail. All around them, smiles wreathed
every sailor’s face, private, gloating smiles, and there was a great deal of jostling among the idle hands,
with many unnecessary cautions and pieces of advice called out to the sweating group of men engaged
in the actual business of the transfer.


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The egg being safely deposited on the deck of the Reliant, Laurence took his own leave of Gibbs. “I will
leave the prisoners with you; there is no sense in giving them a motive for some desperate attempt to
recapture the egg,” he said. “Keep in company, as well as you can. However, if we are separated, we
will rendezvous at Madeira. You have my most hearty congratulations, Captain,” he added, shaking
Gibbs’s hand.

“Thank you, sir, and may I say, I am most sensible—very grateful—” But here Gibbs’s eloquence, never
in great supply, failed him; he gave up and merely stood beaming widely on Laurence and all the world,
full of great goodwill.