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non_stopBy the time a lookout spots the dragon, she's already close. It was the blue of the wings that disguised her against the sky, and the fact that no one was looking to the south -- General Montgomery calls a rank of soldiers to order, but they haven't yet managed to raise their guns by the time a white and red striped flag flutters out under her.
She lands in the middle of the camp, causing a general exodus away, because of the general fear of dragons, and the superstition that they're willing to eat people.
She's smaller than her wingspan suggests -- the wingspan of a heavyweight, of which America only has a bare handful, all of them with the army around Philadelphia. But she's small, smaller than a middle-weight, and carries only four crew: one captain, on her back, two riflemen, and one more officer. Her wings are blue, shading to a subtle red where they meet her body, and her body is blue, with splotches of darker blue all down her spine.
The captain, a slight young man, jumps off of her. He is disheveled, from their passage through the air, his light-colored hair pulling out of its queue. He salutes to General Montgomery, and pulls out an envelope.
"From the Continental Congress, sir," says Alexander Hamilton. "Updated orders."
He is escorted into the command tent, leaving the dragon behind.
After Montgomery reads them, he frowns. "These are from the 12th?"
"Yes, sir," says Hamilton. "I'm sorry it took so long to get here. The maps have the lakes all wrong, and the mountains are nothing like how they're drawn -- we had to backtrack, and lost a few days. Besides which, we needed to forage along the way."
Montgomery stares at him. "Son," he says, "you made it up here in eleven days, and you're apologizing that it took too long?"
Hamilton shifts, uneasily.
"I've never seen a journey of five hundred miles take less than three weeks," continues Montgomery, "even on dragonback. What breed is your beast out there?"
He raises his chin. "She's Caribbean native," he says. "Island hopper, they call her, or a blue hopper."
"Leave the letters," says Montgomery; "When are you due back?"
"My orders say 'all due speed'."
Montgomery frowns, considering. "Well, my aide Burr can find you rations, and a better place to sleep. And -- you brought the mail?"
"Of course."
"He'll help you distribute it. Go on; I'll have a response for you by morning."
She lands in the middle of the camp, causing a general exodus away, because of the general fear of dragons, and the superstition that they're willing to eat people.
She's smaller than her wingspan suggests -- the wingspan of a heavyweight, of which America only has a bare handful, all of them with the army around Philadelphia. But she's small, smaller than a middle-weight, and carries only four crew: one captain, on her back, two riflemen, and one more officer. Her wings are blue, shading to a subtle red where they meet her body, and her body is blue, with splotches of darker blue all down her spine.
The captain, a slight young man, jumps off of her. He is disheveled, from their passage through the air, his light-colored hair pulling out of its queue. He salutes to General Montgomery, and pulls out an envelope.
"From the Continental Congress, sir," says Alexander Hamilton. "Updated orders."
He is escorted into the command tent, leaving the dragon behind.
After Montgomery reads them, he frowns. "These are from the 12th?"
"Yes, sir," says Hamilton. "I'm sorry it took so long to get here. The maps have the lakes all wrong, and the mountains are nothing like how they're drawn -- we had to backtrack, and lost a few days. Besides which, we needed to forage along the way."
Montgomery stares at him. "Son," he says, "you made it up here in eleven days, and you're apologizing that it took too long?"
Hamilton shifts, uneasily.
"I've never seen a journey of five hundred miles take less than three weeks," continues Montgomery, "even on dragonback. What breed is your beast out there?"
He raises his chin. "She's Caribbean native," he says. "Island hopper, they call her, or a blue hopper."
"Leave the letters," says Montgomery; "When are you due back?"
"My orders say 'all due speed'."
Montgomery frowns, considering. "Well, my aide Burr can find you rations, and a better place to sleep. And -- you brought the mail?"
"Of course."
"He'll help you distribute it. Go on; I'll have a response for you by morning."
