Revolution (Chronicles of Charanthe #2)

by Rachel Cotterill

  *

  In the next morning’s projectiles class, Eleanor took the second years out to the practice frame and set an intricate sequence of throws and acrobatics that she knew even her best students would struggle to master: she’d spent a while before breakfast ensuring she could reliably achieve it herself. Once they were each occupied with their own target boards, trying to recreate the individual moves which combined to make the new technique, she wandered casually across to where Raf was warming up.

  “You know Ivan’s back?” she said, leaning against the frame.

  “I didn’t.” He flicked his stars towards the board, skipping the harder moves to ensure an accurate result, then turned to face her. “Has he asked you to keep on teaching us?”

  “He hasn’t yet asked me to stop. But they only got in yesterday.”

  “Any news on how they got on?”

  “Not much progress,” she said. “But I think we expected that.”

  “If everyone made it home in one piece that is progress, isn’t it? For the mountains.”

  “Actually, that’s probably the main thing we’ve learnt. We’ve found a way to talk to them – Ivan said the men in the mountains know some secret sign language that’s used at Venncastle.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. Do you know it?”

  “Of course, everyone does. I mean, everyone at school.”

  “The mountain men were using it to talk amongst themselves, apparently, and Ivan made it clear that he understood the things they thought they were saying in secret. That made them listen.”

  “Then that’s definitely progress.”

  “It is.” She retrieved his stars from the board and handed them back to him. “Try that again?”

  “I can’t do this,” he said. “You’re distracting me with all this talk of the mountains. You’re carrying me off into dreams of all the fun stuff I’ll get to do once I’ve graduated... I can’t concentrate on making stars go round corners.”

  “If you want to get that seat on the council, you’d better concentrate on this,” she said. “We’re only days from the next contest and you never know, you might want to get some points from Projectiles. We’ll talk later.”

  “At lunch?”

  “Yeah, come up to mine, I’ll order something. Now, show me the best you can do.”

  At the end of the lesson Eleanor sent him ahead of her up to her rooms while she went to request a light lunch of soup and bread from the kitchens. He was emerging from her washroom when she came in.

  “That’s better,” he said, shaking damp hair out of his eyes. “Human again.”

  “A bit of sweat doesn’t make you any less human,” she said, suddenly conscious of her own damp tunic. But she was leading another projectiles class in the afternoon; there was no sense in her getting changed out of her training clothes.

  “So, this silent language... you learnt it at school?” she asked as they sat down to eat.

  “Yeah.”

  “And you didn’t think to teach me in Taraska?”

  “It wouldn’t have been much use.”

  “You don’t think it would’ve helped to have a silent language when we were sneaking around trying not to get killed?” she asked, reaching for a slice of bread but watching his face. “And pretending to be silent monks?”

  “It isn’t a proper language. It’s more a way of modifying what you’re saying. So if you do this” – he curled two fingers to his thumb as he spoke – “then you’re effectively negating your words. And this” – he flexed his fingers backwards – “signals something to be suspicious of, in the words you’re hearing. It’s more useful for diplomacy than war.”

  “I didn’t think Venncastle was known for its diplomacy.”

  He laughed, struggling not to spray his mouthful of soup across the table. “We’re known for what we choose to be known for. Much like the Association in that respect.”

  “You won’t be able to keep your secret language to yourselves for long,” she said. “Not if the Association needs it to make headway in the mountains.”

  “Do you think I didn’t tell you because I was worried about protecting the school’s secrets?” he asked. “Do you really think that would’ve even crossed my mind out in that dryland prison? I just didn’t think it was helpful.”

  “Okay.”

  “Honestly.”

  “I believe you.” She copied the gestures he’d shown her; they were certainly of limited use on their own. “You will have to teach us, though.”

  “Maybe. Or maybe it just makes sense to send Venncastle men into the mountains now. I wouldn’t mind going once I’ve graduated, it sounds like fun.”

  “You just want to follow in Ivan’s footsteps again.”

  She’d only been making what she thought was a fairly obvious joke, but he set his spoon down and looked seriously at her.

  “You shouldn’t talk about that,” he said. “It’s better if we can pretend it isn’t... that we don’t know.”

  “Sorry. I didn’t think you’d mind, when it’s just us.”

  He shrugged. “I’m being silly, I know, but it’s easier to keep the pretence if we pretend all the time. It’s something me and Ivan learnt early on.”