Revolution (Chronicles of Charanthe #2)

by Rachel Cotterill

  Chapter 9

  Eleanor was slow to respond to the council summons; she’d just got home from Pettiford and wanted to finish her preparations for the next day’s classes. By the time she reached the chamber the others were already deep in conversation.

  “What was the body count?” Ragal asked as she came in. The target of the question was Ivan; he caught Eleanor’s eye and smiled as she slipped into an empty chair.

  “Zero,” he said.

  “Yes, yes.” Ragal tapped his fingers impatiently on the table. “I know you all came home alive. I meant the total, including the soldiers who went with you.”

  “Zero,” Ivan repeated. “We didn’t have to fight.”

  “What?” Bill looked astonished. “When has any encounter with the mountain men ended short of massacre?”

  “We came to an understanding, of sorts. They use a secret code of hand signals – it seems to be a variant of the Venncastle signs. And as soon as I picked them up on it, they knew they had to listen.”

  “How can the mountain men know Venncastle secrets?” Nicholas asked.

  Ivan shrugged. “It must go back to before the Empire, I suppose. Maybe we’re not as unique as we thought. The fact is, they do, and that means we have at least a chance to talk.”

  “Did you find out what they want?”

  “They want what they’ve always wanted, so far as I can tell. They just want to be left alone.”

  “That won’t satisfy the Empress,” Albert said. “She won’t rest until every acre of these lands is safely under the rule of Imperial law, and every mountain-born child enrolled in a proper Imperial school.”

  “Let’s wait and see what she says when we turn in our report,” Ivan said. “There’s no point second-guessing it.”

  “There’s bound to be a second expedition,” Nicholas said. “And we’ll have to send Venncastle men, if they really share our hand-language.”

  “Well, we’d have to wait for the next freeze if we want to send more people,” Ivan said.

  “Surely summer is the best time to head into the cold regions?”

  “You’d think so, wouldn’t you? But right now it’s pure slush in the mid-ranges, and the thaw rivers are making the lower slopes dangerous. It’s only going to get worse as we get into summer.”

  Eleanor thought back to the view she’d had of the mountain tops from her school. “It never completely thaws up there, does it?”

  “Not in the highlands, no. I think that’s part of the reason the mountain men don’t stray very far down the slopes – their lives are designed around a constant winter, so they stay where the snows are.”

  “I’m not sure why the Empress thinks it’s a good idea to try and start mining up there,” Don said. “There must be easier sources of minerals.”

  “It’s not our job to question Imperial policy,” Karl said. “We only have to make it work.”

  “I thought we didn’t even have to do that, if we don’t want to?” Eleanor asked, her own recent decisions weighing on her mind. “Everyone’s always been very definite about the fact that we’re outside the Imperial system – surely we can just say no, if we want.”

  “In theory, yes,” Nathaniel said. “But in practice we need the Empress just as much as she needs us. We need her money.”

  “Do the mountain men have their own mines?” Karl asked Ivan. “Is that why they’re so keen to keep us out?”

  “No, I don’t think they care for that kind of thing,” Ivan said. “It’s a very simple culture. They make their bows and arrows, their sleds, their cabins, all from the wood of the mountain-top forests. They’ve a few old knives but nothing special.”

  “I don’t understand it,” Bill said. “Haven’t we explained how much more they could have if they adopted the Imperial lifestyle? Hasn’t anyone told them how much better it would be for them?”

  “I get the impression that’s exactly what gets people killed,” Ivan said. “They don’t like being told what they should want. And who can blame them, honestly?”

  “But they’re missing out on so much.”

  “And they think we’re missing out on the joys of hunting, and raising our own children, and living in the constant snow. But they don’t send military parties to try and persuade us of that.”

  Daniel had been missing from the meeting, so when everyone else dispersed Eleanor went across to his rooms to see what had kept him. She found him hunched over his desk, making careful cuts into something small and bloody. He discarded most of the flesh into a bucket by his feet, but kept back some parts which he submerged in a clear liquid.

  “What’re you doing?” she asked, leaning over his shoulder to try and get a better look as he moved another bloody sphere onto his cutting board.

  “What does it look like?” He made another incision and pried the flesh apart with his fingers. “I am working.”

  “You missed a good meeting,” she said. “The mountain expedition is back.”

  “All of them?”

  “Yeah, I think everyone was surprised by that.”

  He nodded, and continued his dissection in silence.

  “Sorry for disturbing you,” Eleanor said. “Do you want to come round later, when you’ve finished?”

  “This may take a while. It is not a quick preparation.”

  “What are you making?”

  “I read something in the old records that I thought I might improve on: I am attempting to distill the strength of a bull.”

  “You’re what? That sounds like some kind of bizarre magic.”

  “It is an experiment, if that is what you mean.” He threw another lump of flesh into the bucket. “Of course, in the original procedure they took none of this care, but neither did they end up with a perfect tonic.”

  She was fascinated in spite of herself. “So what was the original procedure?”

  “Simply to eat the testes,” he replied.

  Her eyes fixed on the bowl of meat with sudden understanding. “So that’s what those are? Disembodied balls?”

  “Yes.”

  “Where did you get them from?”

  “I had a butcher hold some back for me. Most people have no wish to eat them, these days, so he was very happy at my interest.”

  “Yeah, no wonder.”

  He continued working through his supply, extracting the slices he was interested in and discarding the rest. Eleanor just watched. Apothecary wasn’t usually fun, but this was a step more intriguing than the standard herbal preparations.

  “Why do you think no-one’s done this before?” she asked at length.

  “No-one else is me.”

  “Yes, but–”

  “That is all the difference there is. Who else ever takes the time to create something new? Or to make a recipe better, or a method more precise?”

  “What about Albert?”

  “He has no imagination. He is methodical enough to make progress, but he has no interest.”

  Daniel sliced up the final testicle and prodded the lumps he’d submerged in the thick, clear liquid.

  “Ah, it will have to sit for a while longer,” he said. “I should have known. Then, since you are here, should we order some lunch?”

  “Let’s go back to my rooms,” Eleanor suggested. “I’m not sure I want to eat with the smell of raw testicles up my nose.”