“Blue blue blue, mamaí-”

There were tugs on the cloak that he's wrapped around himself in to sleep. Even two blankets wasn't enough to keep warm in this place. The voice was garbled and childlike. For one wild moment Aleci thought it was his younger sister, and he was a child back in his old bedroom before he heard an impatient sigh and the tugging stopped.

“Edi, no.”

Aleci opened bleary eyes to see Finne pulling away the younger boy. Now that he could see the child, he noted that Ediann and Finne had the same features, curly brown hair and green eyes.

“Blue!” Ediann insisted, pointing to Aleci’s cloak that he was using as an extra blanket.

“It’s. Not. Yours,” said Finne, shaking his head firmly, inflecting each word.

Ediann ignored him, looking plaintively at Aleci’s blue cloak. He pointed again, insistently, whining under his breath. Well, he can’t have this one, thought Aleci, wrapping it firmly around himself. He’d not bothered to undress for bed. From the light in the tent and the noise of the legion slowly waking up it was just after sunrise. Finne had swaddled the baby and was carrying him in a makeshift sling. The older boy, Edon was awake and busying himself with folding the blankets. Aleci frowned, while both Finne and Edon wore shoes and travel clothes, Ediann was still dressed in his noble finery. It wouldn't too bad if they were traveling in the wagon, but Finne would have to buy shoes soon for Ediann soon, though looking at the state of their clothes... perhaps he could find Finne a spare set of clothes. Aleci padded over to his trunk, shivering as he flipped open the lid. None of his clothes would fit Finne, and they all needed a good wash anyway. His spare cloak though, was clean enough when Aleci gave it an experimental sniff.

“Ediann, do you want this?” he said, holding out the spare cloak. Ediann had his back turned to Aleci, and Aleci called out again, “Ediann?”

“He can’t hear you,” said Edon, scowling, “He can’t-”

“Edon!” said Finne, he made a hushing noise.

“I’m not lying!” said Edon, crossing his arms, and pointing at Ediann, saying in that foreign tongue, “He can’t hear!”

“Ediann?” said Aleci, walking over and tapping the boy’s shoulder.

The child flinched away from him, running to hide behind Finne.

“It’s for you,” said Aleci, kneeling and offering up the cloak to Ediann.

The boy glanced at Aleci and then at Finne, “Yes,” he said, slurring the s so that it sounded like 'th'.

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Aleci frowned, wasn’t Ediann the age where he should be talking in complete sentences, clear sentences? Then Edon’s words made sudden sense.

“He’s deaf?” he said to Finne, “Ediann?”

Finne refused to look at him.

“Ediann,” said Aleci, offering the cloak to the child, “You. Can. Have. This.”

Now Finne’s earlier exaggerated pauses made sense, but that wasn’t a viable way of communicating, lip reading. If it proved disastrous for an infiltration then it was worst for day to day living. Poor boy, thought Aleci, watching Ediann hesitantly take the cloak and marvel at the faded embroidery on Aleci’s cloak, his little hands running over the patterns.

“Do you want me to teach him the military signs I use?” said Aleci.

“What do you mean?” said Finne, his expression unreadable.

“What is he saying?” said Edon, tugging at Finne’s arm.

“We use hand signal,” said Aleci, demonstrating with a quick, sign that meant ‘move in’. “To communicate. I can try teaching him, if you want,” he frowned, thinking out loud, “I have never spoken in complete sentences with it.”

“You would?” said Finne.

“Of course,” said Aleci, “Ediann would be traveling with us as well. I don’t see why not.” He moved himself to Ediann’s field of vision, waving his hand in front of the boy’s face to catch his attention. He flexed his fingers experimentally, recalling the letters. “Cloak. C-L-O-A-K,” he signed and said the word out loud, in exaggerated motions like Finne did, pointing at the cloak in Ediann’s hands while he did so. He then gestured to his own cloak, “Cloak.”

Ediann stared wide eyed at him.

“Cloak,” Aleci signed again, this time saying the word in Imrukian.

The boy still looked confused.

“We’ll work on it,” said Aleci, deciding he should ask Kaeso how on earth one goes about making the connection between words, their meanings and hand gestures to a child. They would also have to establish what tongue the signs would be in, Aleci had used his own alphabet as a basis for the signs, whereas the Imrukian alphabet looked nothing like the Empire's. Then there was the fact that he usually dropped all vowels when signing, and he was very certain that while C-L-K could be understood by his men, dropping vowels might not be the best way to teach.

Just as he was about to stand up, Ediann reached out to pull at Aleci’s tunic. He was still holding on to the cloak Aleci had given him.

“Looak,” he said, very slowly, mimicking Aleci’s gestures.

Aleci grinned, impressed, “Cloak,” he signed.

He left Finne in the tent to dress the children, and walked out to find that Kaeso had helpfully pulled the wagon up next to Aleci’s tent. Something made Kaeso very amused, and he refused to say what it was when Aleci raised an eyebrow. When Finne and the children came out, Kaeso introduced himself to Finne in flawless Imrukian, perfect as always, and waved away Finne’s attempts to help Aleci after he’d carried the two younger children up the wagon.

“Do you know Thodius?” said Aleci as he started undoing the tent, “Thodius from Nabaeum?”

Kaeso frowned, “The… physician? I don’t know him, Aleci. Shouldn’t you ask… Iachos? He’s the physician here.”

Aleci lowered his voice, “He’s my father’s little spy!” he muttered, angrily, “I’ll not-”

“What makes you think Iachos tells your father anything?” said Kaeso. “He’s here to keep you out of trouble-”

“-the same thing!” snapped Aleci as Kaeso held out both hands placatingly.

“It’s his wagon he offered up,” said Kaeso. “Seeing as no one’s severely injured. He said he’ll walk, unless your guest-”

“Finne,” said Aleci.

“Finne,” Kaeso continued, unperturbed, “Finne needs one or the children. They were fine? I suppose they’re hardier folks, living in the cold and all. I heard they let the children sleep outside on cradles dangling in the branches-”

“He understands us.” said Aleci, pulling the poles of the tent down with a clatter. “You don’t happen to know what exactly our alphabet was for the hand signals?”

“Hm?” said Kaeso, raising an eyebrow in question. “You just said he knew our tongue. You want us to sign now?”

“No, no!” said Aleci, kicking a stubborn pole out of the ground and cursing as his toes twinged painfully, “His child. The middle one. Ediann. I want to-'' he stopped at the amused look on Kaeso’s tanned face, “What?”

“You know you want it very much-” Kaeso began and ducked as Aleci swung the pole at his head.

“I want to teach him the alphabet. We don’t use it, do we? We have like-” Aleci let the poles fall to the ground with a clatter to sign ‘jump’ with exaggerated movements. “We dropped the alphabet entirely. It was more hand movements and single letters. J-M-P.” He repeated for emphasis.

“Now that you mention it... I’ll think about it. Does he need a stylus? To draw? It might be easier to-” then he started laughing.

“What horror are you thinking of now?” said Aleci, even though he very well knew what Kaeso was thinking about.

“You!” said Kaeso, tossing his head back and wiping tears of mirth from his eyes, “Drawing! Poor lad won’t know what he’s seeing.”