Ethain woke up while he was teaching Finne how to briefly spell out a sentence.

“Here,” said Aleci, pulling his cloak away from his body and offering it to Finne, “You can cover yourself with this, you needn’t jostle him.”

“Won’t you be cold?” said Finne, not reaching for the cloak.

Normally that would have elicited a flirtatious remark from Aleci but he decided against it, “I’ll manage.”

“Thank you,” said Finne.

He struggled to wrap the cloak around himself and Aleci stood up to give him a hand. Aleci looked away politely until Finne said, in quiet tones, that he could sit back down now.

“I don’t have both my hands to sign,” said Finne, looking embarrassed, “I forgot-”

“You can do it one handed,” said Aleci. “There’s more… hm, emotion when you sign. I didn’t make those exaggerated faces for fun-” he saw Finne hid a smile, “he understood me, didn’t he? That’s all that matters.” he watched Finne adjust Ethain under the cloak, “Sorry. Should I look away until he’s done?”

“No,” said Finne “Normally I would leave. Maybe if the wagon’s right outside I can-”

“Is it tradition?” said Aleci, “It must be a new one, none of the Imrukian women did it when I visited them.”

They wore their babies on slings like Finne did, but none of them excused themselves when their babies cried.

“I…” Finne blinked, “I was told no one likes seeing it.”

“Why?” said Aleci.

Finne glanced at the tent floor then at Aleci, “I… don’t know. You don’t?”

“No? Should I?” said Aleci.

He saw Finne take in several breaths.

“Is that so?” said Finne.

“You don’t believe me,” Aleci stated.

“Everyone wants something from me,” Finne said quietly. “Please excuse me if I don’t believe you.” he held his body tight like a rabbit caught in a trap.

Aleci backed away, “I understand. I’m sorry for asking. I have been known to be rude and forward…” he fidgeted nervously on the cot, “ Why don’t you ask me a question, hm? As I’ve been rude… it would only be fair.”

Finne looked taken aback, his mouth opening in surprise. “What… what should I even ask?”

“Anything you want,” said Aleci. “I’m sure you can use it as currency among my men. There’s nothing they liked more than gossiping about my personal life.”

“Why do you tolerate it?” said Finne.

“Is that your question?” said Aleci, and when Finne nodded, he said, “It keeps them entertained. Besides, their talks of my life are much more creative than what it usually is.”

“But what about your reputation?” said Finne. “Aren’t you… Praefect? Don’t you want to be a Magister?”

“No,” said Aleci, flatly, curious as to the extent of Finne’s education that he knew the term, “I told you I hate playing the scheming and plotting game. That’s all they do all day, Magisters, toppling this man, elevating that man-” He stopped himself before he could say more.

There was a long silence from Finne. He adjusted Ethain in his arms, then pulled Aleci’s cloak off of him with one hand and handed it back to Aleci, “Your song from before.” said Finne, “Do you mind signing it for me?”

“Of course,” said Aleci.

He found himself humming the song under his breath as he signed each individual word to Finne.

“I didn’t realize he was deaf at first,” said Finne quietly, when he was able to replicate Aleci’s movements. “Then when he was older there were all these performances I sat through with him on my lap. He didn’t know why everyone was so enraptured.”

“Do you feel gui-” Aleci began then stopped himself. “There are things parents can’t share with children. Maybe he wouldn’t have liked it anyway even if he could hear.”

“Do you think he’d like this?” said Finne, “The song signed to him?”

“Maybe,” said Aleci. “I can’t say. I think… I’m sure he would love the chance to talk to you.”

“I hope so,” said Finne. “I wished.” he shook his head, “Thank you, Aleci.”

When Finne excused himself to sleep for the second time that night, Aleci half opened his mouth to say there was no need for him to do so. He stopped himself in time. Small steps, he thought to himself, one can’t move a mountain in a day.

The next morning, as before, Kaeso pulled the wagon up to their tent and set about helping dismantle the tent. When Finne and his children were in the wagon Aleci let out a breath and mounted his own horse. Aleci had seen Kaeso looking smug before, many times in fact, and they usually all had to do with his friend being right about something.

“What is so funny?” he said flatly, patting his horse when she neighed in protest at his sudden jerk on the reins.

It was a bright, warm morning, thankfully there was no frost on the ground. His men were chattering among themselves about something, a lake or a forest nearby, and Aleci suspected they would somehow stumble upon it before continuing along their way.

“Oh, I don’t know, can’t I smile on a bright day?” said Kaeso cheerfully, exchanging a glance with Domerc who had ridden up next to the two.

“Stop your scheming,” Aleci ordered.

“The only scheming I have,'' said Domerc, “is if you’d like to rest for two or three days? There’s a nice lake nearby, we found it last night.”

“The winter’s coming,” said Aleci.

“Finne didn’t say it was,” said Domerc/ “I asked him,” he nodded, “we could fish there, and hunt as well. And I suppose… it is easily defended.”

“Someone was following us?” said Aleci, raising an eyebrow.

“Maybe,” said Domerc. “I can’t be sure. But you said maybe someone’s looking for them?”

“Good idea,” said Kaeso, “I personally want a swim.”

“In the freezing water?” Aleci demanded, “Why?”

“I’m told it has its health benefits,” said Kaeso airily, “now that your navigational skills aren’t that needed, why don’t you take a break? Let Ediann ride with you, he looked so very sad when you left to saddle your horse.”

Ediann did look very upset that morning when Aleci left them in the wagon, but Finne had pulled him sternly aside before he’d started crying.

“I thought,” Aleci said, voice sweet, “you were supposed to teach them? Kaeso? Domerc?” the two men refused to meet his eyes, and Aleci scowled, “What?”

“Kaeso told me that it’s better you teach him properly first,” recited Domerc, “he reminded me my spelling was horrible, and undoubtedly a bad influence on a child.”

“Kaeso…” said Aleci warningly.

“They’re Mytea’s guests to you not us,” said Kaeso, grinning, “shouldn’t you be of service to them?”

Aleci scowled harder, but he couldn’t refute Kaeso’s words, “Finne wouldn’t let him ride with me, he keeps all of his children close.”

“Have you asked?” said Kaeso, and laughed when Aleci shook his head no, “Go on and ask then, it’s no easy task keeping a child entertained in a wagon.”

Aleci sighed, “Come along then,” he muttered under his breath to his horse, “let’s see if you like children.”

There was no need to worry, Sage was the epitome of patience. Aleci was not one for horsemanship, and he’d picked her simply because she tolerated his mistakes the most out of all his family’s mounts. When he came to the wagon Mercus was driving he signaled for Mercus to slow down. Edon, riding next to the wagon as he did, scowled when he saw Aleci but kept silent. Aleci gave him a friendly wave and that only made him scowl harder. Stubborn boy, thought Aleci, but shrugged, he was stubborn at that age as well.

The wagon was a decently made one, similarly built to the ones merchants would use, and it had a door that Aleci knocked politely before opening it. Iachos was seated on one of the benches, fiddling what Aleci assumed to be the wooden braces. Finne had been the one to open the door, Ethain swaddled on the makeshift sling he wore.

“Is something the matter?” said Finne, sounding concerned.

Ediann was sitting on the floor rolling a cloth ball around in his hands. He’d wrapped Aleci’s cloak around himself, like a flowing cape. The boy didn’t look up when Aleci entered.

“Have Ediann ever ridden?” said Aleci, “I could teach him words, if you want?”

Finne hesitated, “No, if he couldn’t hear the horses, how could he know-”

A soft gust of wind blew through the slightly open door and Ediann looked up.

“Pafect,” he said, brightly, walking over, “Pafect,” his hands spelled out each individual letter, “P.R.A.E.F.E.C.T.”

“Ah,” said Aleci, to Finne he said, “but I told you, you needn’t call me Praefect,” he walked over to where Ediann stood, “A.L.E.C.I.” he spelled out, “A.L.E.C.I.”

Ediann glanced at Finne, eyes wide, he shook his head.

“His name,” said Finne, slowly, “your name is Ediann.” Finne began spelling out the letters.

Ediann shook his head impatiently, turning to Aleci he spelled out, “A.L.E.C.I?” The question was very apparent.

“It’s my name,” said Aleci, motioning to himself and signing Aleci.

“Praefect,” signed Ediann, “Praefect?”

“I have many names,” said Aleci, signing. “Praefect, Aleci.” and shrugging, then he pointed at Ediann, holding out both hands, palm up, “What would you like to call me?” he had to commit to signing in proper sentences, even if he wasn't sure Ediann understood.

“Praefect,” Ediann signed.

“Would you like to ride with me?” Aleci signed, opening the door and pointing to his horse, who, bless her, was smart enough to trot next to the wagon. He made sure to point to the saddle.

“Yes,” Ediann signed, then pulling at Finne’s clothes, “Yes?”

It was remarkable how fast Ediann picked up on his cues, thought Aleci. He watched the conflicted emotions on Finne’s face, saw him glance at Iachos who nodded encouragingly.

“Yes,” said Finne, then caught himself and signed, “you. Ride. With. Aleci.”

His signs were clumsy and stilted but Ediann nodded enthusiastically, hugging Finne before he walked towards Aleci, cloak trailing behind him.

“Here, let me help,” he signed, adding a question, “help?” he mimed pinning his own cloak around himself.

It would give many a senate member heart attacks no doubt, to see a Praefect’s pin being used on a child, and a crippled one at that! So it gave Aleci some amusement as he pulled a spare from his pouch and carefully dressed Ediann so that the oversized cloak didn’t catch on the reins or saddle.

“Come, I’ll put you on the saddle,” he signed, repeating the word, “saddle,” as he tapped the saddle.

Ediann held out his hands, allowing Aleci to put him on the saddle. Aleci swung up next to him.

“Saddle,” Ediann signed, turning around to smile brightly at Aleci, then frowning he signed, “what is this?” he pointed at Sage.

“Horse,” signed Aleci, wondering if it was Kaeso that taught him that sentence.

Ediann shook his head, “What is this?” he repeated pointing at Sage.

After several rounds of guessing, and many of his men, chuckling, passed them by, Aleci understood that Ediann wanted to know how to spell mane.

“You’re not supposed to be riding,” said Edon irritably when Aleci urged Sage into a trot to catch up, “he can’t ride!” Edon insisted.

“He can sit on the saddle, can’t he? ” said Aleci, “That’s the first step.”

Edon’s mouth opened in shock, he closed it and scowled, “But he can’t!”

“Your mamaí said he could,” said Aleci, nodding towards the wagon, “Go ask him.”

Several emotions flickered through Edon’s face, “Fine,” he spat out.

“Would you like to ride with me in the front?” offered Aleci, “The view’s better.”

“No.” said Edon, “I’m not riding with you.”

It was his loss, thought Aleci. Kaeso and Domerc found it extremely funny that their Praefect spent the entire day playing an elaborate guessing game with Ediann. He was a very clever boy, Aleci observed wryly, his choices for the words he wanted to know becoming increasingly more elaborate when Kaeso introduced the concepts of points and winning to him.