Chapter 253: Frank Exchange
Frank Exchange
Martel's mornings in the apothecary were quiet; Nora still did not seem comfortable with his presence. He wondered if she ever would be. But he had nothing to explain or apologise for, and if she wanted it this way, he would oblige her.
The only interruption to their silent work came halfway through when Mistress Rana appeared. She held out her hand towards Martel, who mirrored the gesture. "Your payment for this fiveday," she said as she let five silver coins drop into his palm.
"Thank you," Martel told her.
"You earned it. Nora, I shall need your assistance upstairs shortly."
"Yes, mistress," she replied.
Martel placed the money inside a pocket. He had earned a lot more than five birds before, but always by somewhat dubious means such as illegal prize fighting or running with the Night Knives. It felt reassuring to know that every coin in his pocket belonged to him unquestioningly.
"Finish these, please. I have to go upstairs." Nora pushed a mortar and pestle towards him without eye contact.
Martel took the tools and continued her work, enjoying the solitude of the apothecary once the apprentice had followed in the footsteps of her mistress.
***
He found a message waiting for him at the entrance hall just like yesterday; Martel was starting to feel popular. This time, it was not from Kerra.
Martel,
I have heard rumblings.
We should talk.
Flora
Compared to the Copper Lady, Martel had more faith in the earthmage. If she wanted to talk, it was probably important. He could visit her tonight, but he still felt weary from this whole fiveday with long hours of schoolwork and going all the way to the copper lanes and back yesterday. And the note did not sound urgent, after all.
He would allow himself this Solday to rest and go tomorrow evening. That did coincide with the sparring group that met on Pelday, but given how hard Mistress Moira trained him, Martel did not feel underdeveloped in that regard.
He did secretly look forward to returning to the Chamber of Earth, though; he no longer had to hide his fire magic, restraining himself while using his lesser spells to fight. When the time came, Martel would show them what a fire acolyte could do.
***
His decision made, Martel went to his last engagement for the day. He had always enjoyed Soldays, naturally, being his day without classes; other than his work in the apothecary and for Master Jerome in the mornings, Solday felt like it belonged to him, or rather, his time did.
Now that he had tutoring lessons with Eleanor, this was less the case with two more hours accounted for, but he had only come to appreciate Solday even more. Compared to the rest of his hectic schedule, it still remained his easiest day. And the quietude of the library, spent solely in Eleanor's company, had its own charm.
It also helped that unlike arithmetic, Martel actually had some skill when it came to learning languages. He had never done this before; nobody in Engby spoke anything other than Asterian, at least until Master Ogion came. They knew a few Tyrian words, living in Nordmark, but not the language as such, and nobody had ever seen any need for anything other than the emperor's tongue.
Contemplating the last, Martel looked over at Eleanor, seated by the desk next to him. "Why is it we are learning Archean?"
"It is the language of Archen," she replied, as if this made it self-evident.
"Yes, I'm not a complete idiot, I understood as much," Martel defended himself. "But how does this help us when it comes to magic? I can't think of a single time during all my lessons at the Lyceum where I needed to know Archean."
"Perhaps not yet, but the time may come. It is the language of knowledge," Eleanor replied. "Many tomes and books are only available in Archean, and when someone like, say, Master Fenrick corresponds with other scholars, he most likely writes in Archean."
Martel frowned hearing this. That made no sense. Why choose deliberately to write something other than your own tongue? "Why?"
"Because he might correspond with people of Sindhu or the Western Isles or even further," Eleanor patiently told him. "Rather than everyone learning each other's language, it pays to have one in common."
"That explains why it's useful for Master Fenrick. But I don't think you and I are meant to debate the Khivans to death."
Surprised laughter came from Eleanor before she quickly stifled it. "I am not sure that is appropriate to jest about. Though you would be right. Regardless, you never know when it might come in useful to understand Archean."
Martel thought about when he had accidentally strayed into the catacombs underneath the castle. Archean writing had been on the walls, which he had not been able to understand. If learning the language could keep him from stumbling onto the living dead another time, perhaps it had its uses.
"I was wondering… Do you have any plans next Solday? After our session together, of course," Eleanor specified.
Martel gave her a look of curiosity. "I don't. How come?"
"I am going home that afternoon to visit my family. I should like you to come."
"Really? Won't I just intrude?"
She smiled to herself. "Trust me, that will not be the case."
Martel thought briefly about when Maximilian had extended the same kind of invitation. It was part of some political ploy, Martel had eventually understood. But Eleanor did not strike him as someone playing that kind of game. And even if she did, considering she spent her spare time tutoring him, he was in her debt. "Alright, I'm happy to go."
"Excellent. We shall leave once our session is done. But that is for next Solday," she impressed on him. "For now, back to these verbs, Master Martel."
Accepting that he could not keep her distracted any further, Martel dove back into conjugating.
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