Chapter 23
“Isabelle needs you,” Daniel said.
Eleanor shook her head, looking down at the tiny girl bundled in the sling across her chest. “What you mean is, Isabelle needs milk.”
“You are her mother as well as her food. She needs you to be here for her.”
“I’m sure you can find another woman with milk in her breasts. Whereas this job needs me.”
“I could go.”
“You, go to Venncastle? And what? Tell them how much you hate their school? I don’t think so.”
“Or we could–”
“No, I’m going. I’ve been out of action for much too long.” Eleanor had already packed a small bag and she had every intention of leaving that night to start her journey while the moon was dark. “Go out to the rebel district in Woolport and find any woman with a baby – her milk will be just as good as mine.”
“Isabelle needs her mother.”
“And the Association needs new students – I’ll still be Isabelle’s mother when I get back.” She leaned across and kissed him on the cheek. “I won’t be gone for long.”
She took Isabelle out of the sling and put her into Daniel’s arms. He still held her awkwardly, afraid he might drop her, though she looked happy enough to rest in the crook of his arm. Eleanor hoped he’d learn to relax with her if he had some time to care for her alone.
She went to Almont first; there was one school to visit there, and she had numerous other loose ends to tie up. She rode around the outside of the city walls, passing along the edge of a dozen green fields before she came in sight of the northeast gate. She slowed the horse to a walk as she approached. If her plans had succeeded and this gate was now guarded by her own people, she wanted to give them chance to see her coming.
Rosemary was the first to recognise her and she left her guard post to run outside, shouting greetings. Ollie ran behind her, although he stumbled after a few steps and fell, arms sprawling across the road. He let out a piercing cry but Rosemary turned and wagged her finger at him, and he picked himself up without further complaint.
“You’ve got him well trained,” Eleanor said. She lowered herself to the ground and embraced her friend. “You’ll have to teach me how you do that.”
“He’s old enough to know that crying at the wrong time could get us all killed,” Rosemary said as they started walking back towards the gate. “Where is yours, anyway?”
“She’s at home. I’m here to work.”
“Are you staying long?”
They reached the spot where Ollie had fallen, and he held his hands up to show off the fresh grazes on his palms. Rosemary ran a hand through his curls and praised him for his bravery.
“Just a couple of days in the city, I hope,” Eleanor said. “I’ve got a few places to visit before I can go back home to Bella.”
They reached the gate, but it was only raised by a couple of feet. Rosemary pushed Ollie under first, then dropped to her knees and crawled through the gap.
“Hang on,” she said. Then Eleanor heard the creaking of chains and gears from inside, and gradually the gate inched upwards.
“Security,” Rosemary explained. “We keep it closed so we only have to guard one direction, and we’ve brought the border of the eastern district up to the wall.”
“Good thinking.”
“It was all Dash’s idea. He’s on night shift, but you’ll see him later.”
Once the gate was raised enough for the horse, Eleanor led him through. Rosemary reached up to adjust the chains, and the gate fell back into place with a thud which shook the ground. The horse reared up, startled, and Eleanor had to calm him before she could tie him up for the night.
The stairs inside the gate tower were barely wider than a man’s shoulders, and rose steeply into the wall. In the guard room above the gate Violet stood with a crossbow in her hands, looking out across the city rooftops, but she turned to see who was responsible for the extra set of footsteps on the stairs.
“Well, if it isn’t the captain her very self,” Violet said, a smile spreading across her face. “Back in action, are you, lass?”
“I’m getting there,” Eleanor said. “I’ve been training every day since Bella was born, but there’s nothing like the real thing.”
There were stacks of crates against one wall. Violet rested her crossbow on top of the pile and rummaged through one box, then another, finally coming up with a dark bottle.
“To celebrate,” she said. They didn’t have glasses, so she poured large measures into three cracked mugs.
“Should we really do this while we’re on duty?” Rosemary asked as she sipped at the drink.
Violet snorted. “You think I can’t shoot straight after an inch or two of spirits?”
“I’m not sure I could.”
“Never mind, so long as one of us can.” Violet knocked her mug against Rosemary’s. “To Eleanor’s return.”
“To me,” Eleanor said, lifting her mug to join the toast. “And to the defence of the northeast gate.”
“We should rouse some of the others,” Violet said. “They’ll all want to know you’re back.”
“Let them rest,” Eleanor said. “I’m in town for a couple of days, there’ll be plenty of time to catch up.”
But the noise had already woken Molly, who came climbing down the ladder from the sleeping loft, eyes bleary and hair in disarray.
“What’s going on?” she asked, clinging sleepily to one of the stiles of the ladder. And then she looked around and answered her own question: “Eleanor! When did you get back?”
“Just now.”
“How’s the baby? Can I see?”
“She’s not here, Daniel’s looking after her.”
“Oh, that’s a shame. But she’s okay? What did you call her?”
“Isabelle. After my mother.”
“Your... wait, don’t tell me, I’m just going to get the others. Everyone’s going to have the same questions.”
She scrambled back up the ladder before Eleanor could object, again, to the idea of people being woken up just to see her. Before long her friends started to appear: Jace in his nightshirt; Nicole with a tunic pulled hastily over her slip; Dash who had slept fully dressed and in his leathers since the day Eleanor put him in charge. Rosemary sent Ollie up to bed and the adults arranged themselves in a circle, sitting on the floor. Violet poured more spirits, and everyone started firing questions at Eleanor.
“Boy or girl?”
“When was she born?”
“What’s her name?”
And then, in shocked and somewhat envious tones, “How in all the Empire did you come to know your mother?”
Eleanor threw back one drink after another as she answered, abandoning any hope of working that night. She’d go and check on Lauren’s messages first thing in the morning.
They were disturbed by a rattle on the door at the bottom of the stairs. Violet slung the crossbow over her shoulder before going to see who it was, and returned with a tall, blonde-haired woman who held her hand and sat beside her, leaning into her shoulder. Eleanor knew she’d seen the woman before but it took her a moment to place her: Sally, the climber from Sixth Corps.
“So what’s been happening here?” Eleanor asked. “Aside from this solid achievement?” She slapped the floorboards with the palm of her hand as she spoke.
“You asked us to get you a gate, boss.” Dash smiled at her, a little pride creeping into his expression.
“And a very nice gate it is, too. Has our Empress tried to take it back yet?”
“She’s sent soldiers a couple of times, but it does its job. We could hole up in here for a while, we’ve even got a good stock of supplies.” He waved towards the crates where Violet had found the bottle of spirits. “And crossbows. We’re getting quite good with the crossbows.”
Violet raised her bow in one hand and her drink in the other. “Forty six,” she said, her words slurring a little. “Forty six little bastards came a
nd stuck their dirty bodies on my arrows.”
“That’s forty six we never have to deal with again,” Sally said, resting her head back on Violet’s shoulder and shuffling closer.
Violet looked down at her and smiled, kissing her forehead and stroking her hair. “You’re always one for seeing the good,” she said. “That’s why I like you.”
“Someone has to,” Sally said. “It’s an unhappy enough business.”
“We’re winning though,” Jace said, leaning back on his elbows. “That’s what matters.”
“We’re not losing,” Nicole said. “But we’re not winning very fast, neither.”
“We always knew it’d take a while,” Eleanor said. “Tomorrow you can show me the latest boundaries and we’ll talk about what to do next.”
“Are you staying here?”
“I’d thought of heading for the tavern, but if you’ve space then I’ll stay.”
“We’ve got plenty of mats, haven’t we?” Nicole asked Dash, and he nodded. “And blankets. That’s settled then, you can stay here.”
The whole floor shook as a scrawny, black-haired youth dropped through the ceiling hatch without troubling to use the ladder.
“Fire!” he shouted. “Look south, there’s a big fire gone up.”
The gate had been built to defend against threats from beyond the city so the outer wall had only arrow-slits, but on the city-side were two large windows. The youth pushed open the shutters and Eleanor’s legs wobbled as she got to her feet and joined the others crowding to look out over the city. The flames glowed red against the evening sky, a pillar of thick smoke billowing upwards.
“We weren’t supposed to be setting any fires out that way,” Dash said, frowning. “That’s not part of the strategy.”
Nicole had been at the front of the group, leaning right outside. She turned, her face grey. “It’s too close,” she said. “I think it’s one of our buildings.”
Dash cursed. “Okay, who’s still sober? Nic, wake everyone else. Violet, are you still competent to wield that bow?”
“I’ve not had much.”
“I haven’t had any,” Sally said.
“The two of you can stay here in case this is a diversion,” Dash said. “I’m taking everyone else who’s able to run. Anyone who’s too drunk, get some sleep and be ready to take the next shift.”
Only Rosemary cried off; she’d drunk less than half of what Violet had given her, but she didn’t usually drink at all. Eleanor knew that running would feel more like falling, but she also knew she’d be as much use drunk as most of them would be when sober.
Nicole came back down the ladder with a dozen sleepy, half-dressed guards, and Dash led the way into the streets. It wasn’t hard to find the fire: the tower of smoke and sparks loomed above the rooftops. They ran towards it until they came upon the knot of people who’d run out into the street to escape the blaze.
Dash sent most of the guards to fetch buckets from the fire post, and asked Eleanor to help him find out what was going on. She held his arm for stability as they ran towards the crowd, her other hand on the hilt of her dagger.
“What started this?” Dash asked, but no-one seemed to know.
“Well don’t just stand there gaping like idiots,” Eleanor snapped. “Bring water. We need to contain it.”
“I can handle things here,” Dash said. “You find out what happened.”
Eleanor walked around the corner to get a better view. There were three houses burning, and the fire was starting to lick at the edges of the neighbouring rooves, blackening the tiles.
“Where did it start?” she asked. A young woman indicated the left of the three houses, while an older man pointed across her to the right. Eleanor glared at them. “Okay, what exactly did you see?”
“I heard a crash,” the man said. “And then there was smoke.”
“Lots of smoke,” the woman agreed, then burst into a fit of coughing as if to emphasise her point.
“Did anyone actually see anything?” Eleanor asked, but to no avail.
Bystanders and revolutionary guards alike were starting to arrive with buckets from the fire point, as well as various boxes and even canvas bags that they’d filled themselves from the nearest springs. Dash was directing them to start at the edges, but Eleanor grabbed one bucket and carried it with her as she approached the middle of the blaze. She looked up and down, scanning for traces, but the soot and ash and water were being trampled into black mud by the enthusiastic rescue force. If someone had set the fire deliberately, their tracks were now long gone.
She heaved the bucket of water towards the nearest window, turned to hand the bucket to the nearest volunteer, and then spun back to face the buildings again. The windows. She cursed herself for not seeing it sooner. The windows had all been blown out by the fire but there was nowhere near enough glass in the street.
Ignoring numerous cries of protest, she ran inside the nearest house. The ceiling above her head creaked ominously and a shower of sparks fell down into the room, but she ignored the disturbance. What she needed to check wouldn’t take long. She edged across to the window and there, as she’d predicted, the missing glass littered the floor. A rock the size of her fist lay on blackened floorboards, giving extra weight to her theory: someone had smashed the windows from outside.
She turned back towards the door. A burning beam crashed down across her path and she ran, leaping over the timber and throwing herself into the street just as the rest of the ceiling collapsed behind her. She hit the ground and rolled, and someone threw a bucket of water over her.
“Learnt anything?” Dash asked, offering his hand to help her to her feet.
She shook herself, sending droplets of water flying, and shivered. “Not an accident,” she said. “You need to change the pass phrases. And make sure you’re protecting the gate with an extra challenge only First Corps know.”
“Only First? Don’t you trust the others?”
“I trust you more.”
“Can you find out who it was?”
Eleanor looked again at the chaotic mess of footprints tracked across the cobbles. “Not likely,” she said. “Not now. But we know it was them, inside our very heart, and that’s all that matters.”
“They’ll pay for it,” Dash said.
A man from a nearby house came out with a towel for Eleanor, and she dried her hair as the human chain continued to pass buckets of water towards the flames. Eventually they managed to contain and finally quench the fire, and the First Corps regrouped around Dash and Eleanor.
“We learnt one important lesson tonight,” Dash said as they started to walk home. “We need to recruit more fire wardens into the revolution.”
“We did alright,” Nicole said, glancing back at the blackened shells that had been houses. “We stopped it quick as the fire wardens ever stopped our fires.”
“We haven’t had a good fire for months,” Jace said. “But they’re asking for it, if they come in here and burn our homes.”
“You’ll have your revenge,” Dash said. “But we’ll work out the very best way to do it.”
Revolution (Chronicles of Charanthe #2) Page 62