Chapter 25
Only a few days after the new first years had arrived, the older students were summoned after dinner one evening to have the rules of the upcoming contest explained to them. A spidery, silver-haired man was waiting for them – Eleanor recognised him as the same man who had presided over the council the first time she'd been called into this room. He was alone in the council chamber when they arrived.
"Sit," he said, indicating the empty seats around the table. "This will be the first and last time most of you will take a seat in this room, so make the most of it."
He waited for the students to sit, and an expectant silence fell over the room.
"My name is Ragal. This is our council chamber, and in a little under a year, one of you will take up a seat here. You are here today so that I may explain this process." He stopped and turned sharply to the two Venncastle youths, who were whispering together. "Do you have something to say?"
Fred shook his head, but Jorge said, "What about Jon and Victor?"
"What about them?"
"One of them should've got a seat. Don't know how we can trust you if you can change the rules like that."
"Last year was a special case, and we will not discuss it. Two students is not a large pool to choose from."
"But–"
"That is the end of the matter," Ragal said firmly. "We will not discuss it. You are here so that I may explain the rules which will govern your lives for the next nine months."
He waited until he was sure the interruptions were over before continuing.
"There will be three contests, spaced across the year on the next three festivals. Much like the three tests you completed before you could enter here, the contests will each have a different emphasis, requiring a particular quality or skill. However, the style is different. Each of the admission tests demanded one particular solution of you. In the challenges to come, you will be free to choose your own approach."
The students listened silently; even Jorge was too absorbed to pursue his objections.
"In the winter contest, to be held on the shortest day, there will be three points awarded to whoever comes first, two points for second place, and one point for third. The spring contest will be harder, but the top three students will earn four, three, and two points respectively. The summer contest will be different. In the summer, only the top three students will compete, and there will be only one winner who will take up his seat in this chamber."
"What if there's a tie?" Fred asked.
"A tie in the final contest would be decided by points from the earlier rounds, but it has never happened. Now, you may wish to know the nature of the winter contest, since you have less than three months to prepare."
They all nodded.
"On the day of the solstice there will be a tournament. As there are nine of you, you'll be divided into three groups of three, and each of you will fight against the other two within your group. The three winners will progress to a final round to fight for the available points. Questions?"
Paul raised his hand. "What kind of fighting?"
"Normal hand-to-hand rules. Full leather armour, two weapons of your choice, but no throwing or projectiles."
To decide the groups for the first round, all their names were inscribed on small wooden blocks and shuffled in an old cloth bag.
"The first group," Ragal said, giving the bag an extra shake before dipping his hand in, "will be... Charles... Jorge... and Mikhail."
He passed across the blocks to show he hadn't fixed the draw, then proceeded to pick the next three names. Eleanor was drawn against Sebastien and Paul, and the final group consisted of Mack, Fred and Daniel. The students looked around the room, viewing their new competitors in a different light now.
Eleanor fell into step with Mikhail as they walked back to their rooms. "I don't stand a chance," she said. "No throwing... that's a harsh rule."
"They don't want you to kill us all." Mikhail laughed as he spoke. "I wouldn't want to be up against you if you were allowed to throw knives at me, those things can do some serious damage."
She shrugged. "You're not in my group anyway."
"No, I've got Jorge – that's worse!"
Daniel turned sharply to face them. "Do not expect he will play fair."
"No." Eleanor thought back to the first time she'd faced Jorge in the ring. "He's not subtle, though, is he? You'll be able to see what's coming. Who're you most worried about, Daniel?"
He paused for a moment, thinking. "Maybe you."
"I meant in your group! I don't even think I'll get to the final."
"You are better than you think," he said. "You are unpredictable – and you have an easy group in the first round, so you will have more energy for later."
Sebastien twisted his face into an expression of mock indignation and Eleanor had to clap one hand to her mouth to keep from laughing out loud, but if Daniel even noticed he showed no sign of it.
"I'm going to wind down with a little target practice," Eleanor said once they got back to the common room. "Develop some of these skills I'm not allowed to use. Anyone else?"
Daniel and Sebastien made their excuses and went straight to bed.
"Oh, why not?" Mikhail went to set up the target board while Eleanor unsheathed her knives.
They were taking turns to flick knives at the board when Raf threw the door open.
"Ellie – put that knife down! We're going out. Are you coming?"
She shuffled uncomfortably. "I have to practise. And sleep."
"You're not at school any more. Come on – it'll be fun."
"Where are you going?" she said, thinking it couldn't hurt to ask.
"Fred knows a tavern that sells the spring nectar – that's the drink I gave you, that we used to have at school. So we thought we might start there."
"I really shouldn't..."
"Come on," he interrupted her. "It's a free day tomorrow, and we'll get you back in time for bed."
Mikhail looked on with amusement as Raf scooped Eleanor up in his arms and carried her into the corridor. She kicked half-heartedly against him but allowed him to carry her down to where the others were waiting, where he lowered her to the ground.
"Bringing your girlfriend, Raf?" Greg asked.
Raf glowered down at him. "Is there a problem?"
"No problem," he said quickly.
Jorge looked darkly at Eleanor but said nothing, Fred mumbled a brief hello, and the other youth introduced himself as Nate, the third Venncastle student in the new intake. They all headed out into the darkness, and Eleanor matched her pace to Raf's long strides. They walked a little way behind the others and she hoped they wouldn't be too resentful of her tagging along.
"How are we going to get out of the academy?" she asked as they walked across the lawns; she'd assumed they would have left by the passage she'd arrived through, but of course the door was supposed to be locked except on the equinox.
"Haven't you been out?" he asked, astonished. "In a whole year?"
"No – I've been studying, I've been busy..." As she spoke she realised how pathetic she must sound to him.
"You've languished in your room all year? Honestly, what's happened to you?"
She thought back to how she'd met him in Taraska; of course she must have seemed quite adventurous to have ended up there, but didn't he realise it had just been a string of particularly strange co-incidences?
"So which way are we going?" she asked, hoping to change the subject. "Where's this tavern?"
"It's over at the east side of town."
She thought back to the time she'd spent in Almont. "Near the cattle market?"
"That's right."
Raf slipped his arm around her waist as they walked and she edged gradually closer, enjoying the warmth of his body next to hers on the chilly autumn evening. They cut through the forest, and had to hike across a couple of fields before they came to the southern outskirts of the city. They cut briefly across a corner of the Marble Q
uarter, which almost glowed in the moonlight, then into the scruffier lanes of the east side.
The inn was tucked away down a narrow side-street, but despite the improbable location it was heaving with customers, and a few youths drinking from large tankards also leaned against the walls outside.
Raf held the door open and ushered Eleanor inside. A few low benches provided seating at the edges of the room, but most of the clientele were standing with their drinks.
"Did you say you've been here before?" he asked Fred once they'd caught up with the others, who were already collecting drinks from the bar.
"Just once," Fred replied, passing across two large glasses of the bright red juice. "But we had to come back."
"Of course," Raf agreed. "Do they have links to school, then?"
"We didn't find out. More likely someone just sold the recipe, isn't it?"
"I found a little stall that sells it by the bottle, too," Raf said. "I'll show you if we come out on market day, but I've got stocks in my room."
"We'll all be coming to your room, then," Nate laughed.
Eleanor took a cautious mouthful, determined not to let the burning sensation catch her by surprise this time.
"Ellie's not used to the alcohol – are you?" Raf said when he noticed how carefully she was sipping the drink.
She blushed, hoping no-one would notice in the dim light of the tavern, and shook her head.
"I heard you threatened to kill anyone who calls you 'Ellie'," Fred said thoughtfully.
"Did you?" Raf looked at her in surprise.
"I don't think I quite said that! Probably what you heard is that I overreacted once, which is certainly true, but I was a bit worked up already. I'm not generally homicidal."
Fred shrugged and turned back to pick up his drink from the bar, but Raf wasn't prepared to let the subject drop so easily.
"Would you prefer me to call you something else?" he asked, moving her a few steps away from the others.
"No!" She realised she'd almost cried out her response, and forced her voice back to a more reasonable level before she continued. "Honestly, no. It's just that you're the only person who's ever really called me that, and then Mikhail used it just when I'd found out you weren't here and I thought you were dead... It wasn't a good day."
"But you don't mind? I can call you 'Eleanor' if you prefer."
"No, I like it when you say it, that's..." She struggled for an appropriate word. "It's what I'm used to."
"If you're sure."
She nodded. He put his arm around her shoulders and steered her round to where the others were chatting about the upcoming contest.
"I've got an easy first round," Fred was saying. "Daniel's more of a theorist, and we know Mack's weaknesses. So I expect I'll see you in the final, right Jorge?"
"Should think so," Jorge agreed.
"Who do you think's going to win your group, Eleanor?" Fred asked her.
"I'm not sure."
Raf squeezed her shoulder. "No need for false modesty, Ellie. We're all friends here."
"I don't really know how Paul fights," she said. "I can take out Sebastien on a good day, but you know I'm stronger over distance."
"Oh, come on! You had those Tarasanka bastards over a barrel – you can handle a couple of students."
"Was that when you were tortured?" Nate asked, his eyes glinting with eager curiousity. "What was it like?"
Eleanor gripped Raf's hand and thought how much she prefered it when people decided she was scary or maybe slightly insane – in any case, not worth pestering with questions. These young Venncastle lads were a bit too familiar and much too inquisitive.
"I don't think we want to spoil our evening talking about that kind of thing," Raf said.
"You won, didn't you?" Jorge asked. "What's the problem?"
"Maybe if I sliced your face open," Raf said, and reached out to trace a mirror of his own scar across Jorge's cheek as he spoke, "we could see how you like it. Or," – he lightened his tone – "we could just enjoy our drinks and not think about that sort of thing."
"No need to be like that about it." Jorge took a large swig of his drink, and the group fell into awkward silence.
"Who wants to find somewhere with music?" Raf asked as they started getting towards the end of their drinks. He looked straight at Eleanor. "I know you can dance."
She blushed, remembering that night in Taraska when she'd danced as though her life depended on it. She'd forgotten he'd been watching her then, and she felt a little embarrassed that he'd seen her make such a public display of herself.
"I'll come wherever you like," she said.
"Anyone else?"
"You two should go ahead – wouldn't want to crowd you," Greg said, giving Eleanor a meaningful look which made the colour rise to her cheeks again. "We might catch you later."
She swallowed the rest of her drink and allowed Raf to lead her through the moonlit streets to another, larger tavern. A cheery number from the string quartet drifted out through the windows, someone was singing, and inside a number of couples were twirling on the dancefloor.
Still outside in the moonlight, Raf linked his hands behind her head and she held his shoulders to steady herself as she felt the effects of the alcohol in her blood, moving gently to a rhythm far less frenetic than the ones she'd danced to in Taraska. A light breeze ruffled her shirt and she shivered.
"You mustn't let them bother you," he said, stroking her hair as they swayed in time to the music. "They're just kids. They don't get it."
"I know." She moved a little closer and leaned her head on his shoulder. "I really don't want to talk about it."
"So long as you know it's not personal. And you will be in that final at the tournament. You know you can always come and find me if you need someone to practise with."
"Thanks."
They danced outside for a couple of songs, then went inside to get something to drink. The others never joined them but they danced and drank, drank and danced until the music stopped, and they realised with some surprise that they were the last customers left in the tavern.
Dawn was breaking by the time they stumbled back to the academy, and as Eleanor fell into bed she wondered how long it would be before her roommates woke her ready for another day of training.
By the time she crawled out of bed, though, the sun was high in the sky and the others had gone out without her; going down to the dining hall, she found she was early for lunch rather than late for breakfast, and sat down alone to eat.
"Where have you been?" Daniel asked her when he and Mikhail came in, sweaty and tired-looking, from a morning of sparring in the woods.
"I was resting." She didn't like the accusatory tone in his voice. She could hardly deny that she'd been a bit lazy, but he had no right to call her on it.
"You must've stayed out very late." Mikhail winked at her. She tried to signal him to shut up, but it was too late. "I didn't hear you come in."
"Were you out last night?" Daniel asked. "Where did you go?"
"Into town. But I don't really see how that's any of your business." She looked down at her food and rammed her fork fiercely into a sausage.
"You cannot think only of yourself."
"I need a break sometimes – not that you'd understand that. We're not all as obsessive as you."
"And to be fair," Mikhail added, "we were training right up until he actually carried her out of the room."
"Who did?"
Eleanor shot a furious glance at Mikhail but immediately regretted it. It wasn't his fault that Daniel was such an intolerable jerk.
"Raf," she said flatly. Keeping the evening's events secret was clearly not going to work, so she'd have to take a more pre-emptive tack. "I went out with Raf and his friends from Venncastle last night, we had a great time, and it has absolutely nothing to do with you."
Daniel shook his head. "It concerns everyone if you are socialising with the enemy."
"The enemy?" There was no way she could
hide her incredulity. "Enemy? Really?! You don't even know what that means."
"Even with our first contest on the horizon, you still are so naïve. You will never be one of them, you know. They may use you but they will never accept you."
She got to her feet. "You've been spouting rubbish like this all year, but Raf stood back-to-back with me against a real enemy, so you'll have to forgive me I don't actually care what you've got to say about it."
She turned on her heel and stormed from the room, leaving her meal unfinished on the table.
Raf was standing in the lake when she managed to track him down, splashing around in the shallows with a few of his classmates and generally making the most of a pleasant afternoon.
He waved when he spotted her. "Hey Ellie! Are you coming in?"
She shook her head, but slipped off her shoes and walked across the damp shale to talk to him. "I wanted to take you up on your offer, if you meant it."
"What, a bit of practice?" He waded towards her as he spoke. "Any time, no problem."
"Any time, as in now?"
"Why don't you come in for a swim first?"
"Oh, I didn't bring anything to change into."
He reached up and pulled hard on her arm, causing her to fall with a heavy splash; she could hear the others laughing as she got to her feet again.
"Now you're already wet," Raf said, a broad grin on his face. "You might as well stay in for a bit."
She couldn't help smiling back. "Race you to the island, then," she said, starting to swim before she even finished the sentence.
He dived after her, but she thought she was getting away until she felt his hand close around her ankle and he pulled her back, stopping her in the water until he could move up beside her.
"Cheat!" she cried, spluttering as her mouth filled with water.
He laughed, released her leg, and pushed himself through the water again. She watched as he sped on with powerful strokes, then sculled across to join him on the rocks.
"Are you okay?" he asked, extending his hand to help her up.
"I'm fine."
"You looked like you had something on your mind."
"Oh, it's just Daniel. He's being an absolute nightmare since you turned up," she said, scrambling out of the water. The wet clothes clung to her skin and her hair was dripping down her back. "He's got a thing about Venncastle. He's always been funny around Fred and Jorge, but he really can't deal with the fact that you're my friend."
"He's from Hess, right?"
"That's right."
Raf nodded. "They hate us, it goes way back. They're just bitter that while they rolled over and agreed to Charan's every idea from the first, the garrison of Flying Rock negotiated a few concessions in exchange for their support. Speaking of school – did you go last year, before you came here?"
"Yes, though I had to break in before anyone would listen to me."
"You did what?" He allowed himself to fall backwards into the lake, laughing so hard she was almost afraid he might drown. "Oh, Ellie, you really are quite something!"
She waited for him to recover himself before saying, "Well, they wouldn't let me in, what was I supposed to do?"
"Couldn't you just leave a message with the guards?" He pulled himself back up onto the rocks. "That's all I was suggesting."
"They weren't taking me seriously. Honestly, the guards at your school are about the most awkward, intransigent people I've ever met – so I went up the cliff instead."
"That's priceless. I don't know if anyone's ever broken into the school before – wait till I tell the others!"
She shook her head. "Please don't."
"Why not? It's a fantastic story!"
"Really, I'd just rather you didn't give anyone any more reasons to be suspicious of me."
He shrugged. "Well, if you like. You have to tell me everything though."
"Later. You promised me some practice."
"Come on, then." He dived into the water and started back towards the shore. "What weapons are you going to use for the tournament?"
She kicked hard to keep up with him. "I haven't decided."
"Well, from what I know of your style you'll want your stiletto or maybe your palm-blade as second... what else are you carrying today?"
"A couple of throwers – that's no use – and a hunting knife." She made a quick check of her pockets as they reached the shallows. "That's all."
"Well, you can try with that, though you'll probably want a longer primary for the tournament. Still, shall we have a play?" He strode across to his clothes, dried himself quickly and tossed the towel to Eleanor.
"What am I up against?"
"Oh, I'll use a pair of daggers," he said, voice slightly muffled as he pulled his shirt over his head. "You'll see a lot of people choosing that, and it's a solid combination, though personally I think it's a bit boring."
Eleanor squeezed as much water as she could from her hair and her clothes, glad that she'd picked out a lightweight tunic that morning, and spread Raf's towel across a large rock where it could dry in the sun. She armed herself with the hunting knife in her right hand and her stiletto in her left, and turned to find Raf already waiting for her a few feet away from the shore.
He dropped into a low stance as she approached, and blocked her first couple of strikes much too easily.
"Bill hasn't got you practising with wooden daggers, then?" she asked as she made a third attempt to get past his guard.
"Oh, he has! But that's only in that one class. It'd be silly to lose the feel of a real knife in your hand."
He stepped to her left and flicked his dagger sideways, forcing her to twist out of his way as she blocked, but she ducked under his arm and came up beside him, her body pressed against his chest and her stiletto against his neck.
"Or the feel of a real blade against your throat, for that matter," he laughed, giving her a quick hug before she lowered the knife. "Though it's still very different when you trust the hand that holds the knife."
"I don't think I could ever forget what that feels like for real," she said. "Just like I'll never forget what it's like to have someone really want to kill me, even though it's been over a year."
"No," he agreed. "And it's not something they can teach, is it? However hard they try."
Rebellion (Chronicles of Charanthe #1) Page 25