Revolution (Chronicles of Charanthe #2)

  *

  Eleanor woke early as usual, but she squeezed her eyes closed against the world and snuggled up to Raf instead. She didn’t want to think about her real life; the illusion was much nicer despite her blinding headache. She could almost believe she belonged here. He put his arm around her and pulled her close to his chest, and she drifted back to sleep in his arms, wishing she could put off the day ahead. Then she remembered the children, and how she’d meant to go back to them last night, and suddenly she was wide awake and with guilt wrenching her stomach.

  “I should get up,” Raf said, tweaking the curtain just enough to flood their faces with light. “But I really don’t want to.”

  “Me neither. I want to stay in bed forever. Shhh,” she added, hugging him tightly and pressing her fingers to his lips to stop him speaking. “Don’t tell me we can’t, I know that.”

  He ran his fingers through her hair, tilted her face up towards his, and kissed her lightly on the forehead. “They’ll be wondering where I am.”

  “Who’s in charge these days?”

  “Above me? Just Ivan.”

  “Well, he’d understand, wouldn’t he?”

  Raf frowned. “Ivan hasn’t been quite the same since he lost Lauren.”

  “Mmm?” Eleanor asked, nestling her face against his neck to avoid his gaze.

  “He really thought you’d come with her but even if you didn’t, I don’t think it crossed his mind that she might not make it home.”

  “It’s an occupational hazard.”

  “But we had you surrounded. We didn’t think we could lose.”

  “Arrogant as ever,” Eleanor said. “But I was going to let her go, until she threatened Bella.”

  “You killed her?” She felt his body stiffen. “You? Personally? If you ever do see Ivan again, I really don’t think you should tell him that.”

  “Why’s he taking it so personally?”

  “Why?” He stared at her for a long moment. “Oh, shit, she didn’t tell you? She was his wife.”

  Eleanor shook her head. “She didn’t say.”

  “No, I suppose she wouldn’t.”

  “I’m sorry. I had no idea.”

  He hugged her tightly, speaking into her hair. “You did what you had to do. You couldn’t have known.”

  She pulled away and started to get dressed. The spell was broken, the magic of pretending no-one else existed replaced with the harsh realities of war. She hadn’t known but if she had, she couldn’t help wondering, would it really have made any difference? She had little enough time for sentimentality towards people who weren’t trying to kill her.

  Raf stepped up behind her as she laced her shirt. He smoothed her hair, then swept it up and pinned it into a bun at the back of her head.

  “Can you get your daughter out of the castle?” he asked.

  She reached up to feel the strength of the pins he’d used on her hair. “Yes,” she said. They’d be just about good enough for those locks.

  “Concentrate on that part. I’ll think of a plan for the rest.”

  Raf took the guard’s keys from him and led Eleanor back down to the cells.

  “Mamma!” Isabelle cried, throwing herself against the bars of the cell as soon as they came around the corner and into sight. “Mamma! Mamma! No no no!”

  “What’s wrong?” Eleanor asked, reaching between the bars to touch her daughter’s hand.

  Raf unlocked the door, and Isabelle ran out and wrapped herself around her mother’s legs, sobbing and repeating “Mamma, mamma!” until Eleanor shushed her.

  “What is it?” Eleanor asked again.

  “Marty,” Isabelle said, pointing back into the cell where Martin clearly wasn’t.

  Eleanor glanced round at Raf and he winked at her. She turned back to Isabelle, wondering how put it in words that the girl might understand.

  “It’s okay,” she began. “Martin’s going to school, like other children. Come back inside and I’ll explain.” She prised her daughter away from her knees and lead her towards the cell.

  “No,” Isabelle said, shrinking back and shaking her head. “No no no. Nasty.”

  “I’ll protect you, baby. It’s not for long.” Eleanor picked Isabelle up and lifted her back through the cell door, at which point she began to scream. Eleanor just rolled her eyes at Raf, and indicated that he could lock them in again.

  “I can get away in six days,” he said as he turned the key. “But you should go as quickly as you can. Wait for me in the rebel quarter – I’m sure you can find someone to take you in.”

  “I’ll stay at the Old Barrel Yard, they know me there.”

  “I’ll meet you at midday on the bridge where the silk road crosses the river, that should be far enough from the palace for safety.”

  “Hmm. You shouldn’t need a pass phrase, but you’d best not wear your uniform if you’re coming that close to rebel districts.”

  “I know. I may be an Imperial chattel, Ellie, but I’m not stupid.”

  “No, you’re not.”

  “Six days, midday, at the silk road bridge.”

  “We’ll be there.”

  Eleanor settled on the floor with Isabelle beside her, and a moment later the guard had resumed his post, sitting in his little office on the other side of the bars. She fiddled with the pins in her hair and wondered how soon she’d have chance to use them. She thought that she’d prefer to make her escape without needing to kill any of the guards, if she could help it, and then she laughed at her own soft-heartedness. She was worrying far too much about protecting Isabelle from the sights of war. The girl had already seen worse than the quick dispatch of one or two Imperial mercenaries.

  Her opportunity came two days later when one of the guards left his shift early, leaving his post deserted. She pulled the pins from her hair and reached around the lock, working as quickly as she could.

  “Mamma?” Isabelle asked, tugging at her shirt. “Mamma?”

  “Shh, baby. Mamma’s busy.”

  “Want...”

  Eleanor turned to face her. “Right now, you want to be quiet. We’re leaving, okay? You just have to give me a moment.”

  Isabelle hung on to her mother’s leg while she worked, affecting Eleanor’s concentration a little and causing her to stab her finger with the sharp end of her pins more than once. But somehow she still managed to swing the door open before the replacement guard arrived.

  “Eleanor!”

  The voice came from another of the cells; she turned and saw Eric with his face pressed between two of the bars of his cell.

  “Eleanor! It is you!”

  “I don’t have time to get you out,” she said, indicating Isabelle with a wave of her hand. “We’re in a bit of a rush. But here, take these, I’m done with them.”

  She handed the hair pins through the bars. He thanked her and slid them out of sight under his clothes just as the new guard came around the corner.

  Eleanor grabbed Isabelle, ducked into the guard room, and pushed the girl to the floor and out of sight. The guard stopped short when he saw the empty cell, and Eleanor launched herself out of her hiding place before he had chance to work out what was happening.

  They’d confiscated all her weapons, so she took advantage of his momentary surprise to snatch a dagger from his belt and plunge it straight between his shoulder blades. It was a boring, functional blade but it was sharp enough to do the job. Eleanor wiped it clean on his one leg of his trousers and tucked it into her belt.

  She turned to fetch Isabelle and saw the girl peering out of the doorway, a stunned expression on her young features.

  “Don’t ever do that again,” Eleanor said. “If I put you out of harm’s way you have to stay there, understand?”

  Isabelle nodded.

  “Come on then, let’s get out of here before we’re found out. Good luck, Eric.”

  She took Isabelle’s hand and they walked together along the corridor, Eleanor constantly alert for any sound that might indi
cate they were about to have company.

  “Where?”

  “Shhhhhhh.” Eleanor put her finger to Isabelle’s lips. “Let’s play the game where you try to keep silent, okay?”

  The streets were eerily quiet; evidently the people of Almont had finally given up their dogged insistence that everything was normal. Even outside of the rebel districts people were staying in their houses now, keeping out of the way in case something happened. The curfew wasn’t official, but it was practical.

  Eleanor walked through the checkpoints without needing to respond to even one challenge. Usually two or three of her guards would have emerged from the houses, crossbows levelled, issuing one half of a pass phrase whose response would determine whether or not the visitor would live. But not tonight. Tonight they stayed in their houses and let her pass. She was a well-known figure in her own right, she knew, and usually she still had to answer. But nothing demonstrated loyalty to the revolution more than being accompanied by a small child.

  She sighed. They’d have to have serious words about this. It wouldn’t do for the Empire to be able to infiltrate any rebel stronghold with no tactic more sophisticated than borrowing a child from one of their own schools.

  “Home?” Isabelle said, squeezing Eleanor’s hand more tightly. “Home?”

  “Almost.” The tavern was just around the next corner, and only when they were safely out of the range of any possible spies could they risk talking about the next stage of their journey.

  Ade welcomed Eleanor with some surprise. Her usual room was occupied, but although he offered to free it up for her, she settled for the best of those that were already empty. The grubby window looked out over the yard to the back. She settled Isabelle on the bed while she took a few basic precautions to secure the room against unwanted visitors.

  “This is a tavern run by some friends of mine,” Eleanor told Isabelle as she worked. “We’re going to stay here for a couple of days.”

  “Why?”

  “We’re waiting for someone.”

  “Home?”

  “Not quite yet, sweetheart.” She couldn’t quite bring herself to explain that Isabelle would soon need to learn a new meaning of that word. “We’ve got another trip to make first.”

  “Where?” Isabelle bounced on the edge of the bed, caught between excitement and fear. “Mamma? Where? Marty?”

  “We’re going to visit my old school.”