Alanna stared at the forest and thought this over. "It's possible to learn to be natural?"
"It's just as possible as it is for a lass t' learn t' beat a lad, and the lad bigger and older than she is, and in a fair fight. Well—ye fought fair."
It had taken weeks of training in secret to beat Ralon. The long hours, the bruises, and her constant exhaustion were fresh in her mind. But it was worth it, Alanna thought. More than worth it.
She stretched, yawning widely. "Can I borrow your sword?"
Coram looked at the weapon hanging from his belt. "This? It's bigger than ye are!"
"Exactly."
Coram stared at her for a moment, then slowly unbuckled his belt. He handed the sword to Alanna, his face expressionless.
Alanna hefted the weapon in her hand. It was the largest, heaviest sword she had ever handled. It would be work to wield it with only one hand. "Thanks. I'll return it later."
She trotted off to find an empty practice room with plenty of mirrors. Coram was right. A sword could not beat her—and neither could Aram Sklaw.
6: Womanhood
IT WAS the fifth of May. Alanna awoke at dawn, ready for another session with Coram's big sword. She got out of bed—and gasped in horror to find her thighs and sheets smeared with blood. She washed herself in a panic and bundled the sheets down the privy. What was going on? She was bleeding, and she had to see a healer; but who? She couldn't trust the palace healers. They were men, and the bleeding came from the secret place between her legs. Hunting frantically, she found some bandage and used it to stop the red flow. Her hands shook. Her whole body was icy with fear. The servants would be coming to wake the pages soon. She had to do something in a hurry! She gnawed her thumb until it bled. Coram was on guard duty. Besides—she couldn't tell him. This wasn't something she could confide to the old soldier.
She could trust only one person to help and keep quiet. There were those who might wonder just how trustworthy the King of Thieves could be—Alanna wasn't one of them.
With no time to waste, she couldn't afford to sneak from the palace and run all the way to the city. She would have to ride and take the consequences. A quick word to Stefan, and Moonlight was saddled. The hostler even lured a guard away from one of the smaller gates. Alanna rode out for the city at a full gallop. Within minutes she was hitching her mare to a post behind the Dancing Dove.
Swiftly she clambered onto the kitchen roof and pried one of George's shutters open. George himself had taught her how to make a second-story entry. When Alanna slid into the man's room, she was seized from behind. A very sharp knife pressed against her throat.
"Didn't your mother ever teach you to enter by way of the door?" a voice drawled softly.
Alanna held very still. That knife was no joke. "George—it's me! Alan!"
The man let her go and made her face him. He wasn't dressed—he always slept bare. "So it is." He put his knife on the table. A smile lit his eyes. "And what makes a noble sprout break into the Rogue's bedroom?"
"I need your help." She twisted her hands together. "I've got to see a healing woman right away."
"A healin' woman, is it? You'll have to give me more than that, lad." George crossed his arms over his chest, waiting. He had always known there was a secret to Alan. "Why a woman? And why a city healer? The best in the land are at the palace."
Alanna swallowed hard. "I'm not a boy." It was incredibly hard to say. "I'm a girl."
"You're a—you're a what!" George yelled.
"Hush! D'you want everyone to hear?" She scuffed her boot against the floor. "I thought you'd guess. You have the Gift."
"And your Gift shields you. Alan, if this is a jest, it's a poor time for one."
She glared at him. "D'you want me to take my clothes off?"
"No—great Mithros. Turn around whilst get clothed."
She obeyed, arguing, "That's silly. I've seen you naked before."
George hunted for his breeches. "This is different. All right—turn about. Why d'you need a woman?"
Her eyes were pleading. "Don't ask. Please."
The thief made a face. "Come on, then." He hustled her down his back stair and into the street. "I know just the lady—she was a priestess in the Temple of the Mother here in the City before she married, got trained there. She's my own mother. She wouldn't talk if you pried her jaws apart." He spotted Moonlight waiting patiently. "You're little enough—the mare will carry us both." He swung himself into the saddle behind Alanna. "We're ridin' for the Street of the Willows."
Alanna nodded and urged her horse forward. George's warmth at her back was oddly comforting.
"What's wrong?" he asked again.
"If I knew, I wouldn't be so damned scared," she snapped.
"That's true—I've never seen you overset," he said thoughtfully. "We've got to talk, you and I." They turned down a small street lined with walled houses. George dismounted and unlocked a gate marked with the healer's sign—a wooden cup—circled once in red and once in brown. "What are you called, then?"
She hesitated. "If I tell, you might forget and let it slip out later."
"Not me, youngling." He motioned for Alanna to ride into the courtyard and then closed the gate. "I let nothing slip."
She dismounted. Moonlight butted her affectionately. "It's Alanna," she whispered.
George's mother came to the door of the house. She was a tall woman, with her son's twinkling hazel eyes and an air of command. Only a single streak of white in her chestnut hair revealed her to be a little more than middle-aged.
"A patient for you, Mother," the thief announced. "I'll be stabling the mare."
Mistress Cooper showed Alanna into a small, neat room. Healing plants of all kinds hung from the rafters, giving the room a fragrant smell. A small wooden table covered with a clean sheet sat in the room's center.
"Sit there," Mistress Cooper ordered. "Now. What's the problem?"
Alanna explained quickly that she was a female, not a male, and that she was a page in the palace. Mistress Cooper raised her eyebrows, but said nothing. Alanna drew a breath and added, "I—I'm bleeding."
"Bleeding?" was the calm response. "Where?"
Red with embarrassment, Alanna pointed. George's mother began to smile. "Has it happened before?" Alanna shook her head. "Did you injure yourself there? No? When did it start—this morning? No pain?"
Too ashamed to speak, Alanna either shook her head or nodded, depending on the question. There were others, so personal she wanted to hide when she thought about them. Her embarrassment only tripled when Mistress Cooper began to laugh. "You poor child," she chuckled. "Did no one ever tell you of a woman's monthly cycle? The fertility cycle?"
Alanna stared. Maude had mentioned something, once—
"That's what this is? It's normal?"
The woman nodded. "It happens to us all. We can't bear children until it begins."
"How long do I have to put up with this?" Alanna gritted.
"Until you are too old to bear children. It's as normal as the full moon is, and it happens just as often. You may as well get used to it."
"No!" Alanna cried, jumping to her feet. "I won't let it!"
Again Mistress Cooper raised her eyebrows. "You're a female, child, no matter what clothing you wear. You must become accustomed to that."
"Why?" Alanna demanded. "I have the Gift. I'll change it! I'll—"
"Nonsense!" the woman snapped. "You cannot use your Gift to change what the gods have willed for you, and you would be foolish to try! The gods willed you to be female and small and red-headed, and obviously silly as well—"
"I am not silly!" Alanna wailed. "I just—" She rubbed the back of her hand against burning eyes. She knew Mistress Cooper was right. She had tried to use her Gift once to make herself grow, and her head had ached for days.
"Well, then, perhaps not silly." A comforting hand was laid on Alanna's shoulder. "Listen to me. Your place in life you can always change, whether you have the Gift or not.
But you cannot change what the gods have made you. The sooner you accept that, the happier you will be." She led Alanna into the kitchen and put a tea kettle on the fire. "You're not used to your body doing things you haven't asked of it, are you?"
Alanna made a face. "It's bad enough my chest keeps growing. Now something like this happens." She put her head in her hands. Finally she looked up and said, "What do I have to know about this—this thing?"
"Your cycle comes once a month, and lasts five days or so. Bathe each day. Bandage yourself, of course. The cycle will not come if you lie with a man and he gets you with child." The woman made a cup of tea and handed it to the girl. "Here. This will make you feel better."
Sipping it did make Alanna feel calmer. "Will it slow me down?"
"Not so long as you stay out of men's beds. A babe will certainly slow you down."
Alanna shook her head. "I don't plan on children."
"Many girls don't." Mistress Cooper poured herself some tea. "Do you know what happens when you lie with a man?"
Alanna blushed. "Of course."
The woman smiled. "You know the man's side of it, I see. Well, a woman enjoys it, too, and one time is enough for you to get with child." She looked at Alanna carefully. "I'll give you a charm against your getting pregnant, then. If you change your mind, you can throw it away."
"Pigs might fly," the girl muttered.
The look in Mistress Cooper's eyes was skeptical. "We'll see. Now—George will have a few questions. Shall I bring him in? It's best he knows all." Alanna nodded. The woman opened the kitchen door, calling, "Stop listening at keyholes, my son."
George walked in and lounged against the kitchen table, looking anxiously at Alanna. "All's well then?"
"She'll be fine," his mother replied. "Tea?"
"Is it that calming tea of yours? Gods know I need it. So, youngling—the truth, now."
Alanna told them everything. "I can't stop now," she finished. "I didn't ask to be born a girl. It's not fair."
George waved an impatient hand. "Hush your nonsense," he ordered. "Bein' a girl hasn't slowed you down yet. And surely you don't plan to stay a pretty young man all your life?"
"No, of course not. I'll tell them the truth when I'm eighteen and I have my shield." She sighed. "If they hate me—well—I'll have proved I can be a knight, won't I? I'll go into the world and have adventures. They needn't ever see me again."
George raised his eyebrows. "I haven't heard such foolishness in all my life. Are you tellin' us Jon will hate you? Gary? Raoul? Or your friend, Sir Myles? My ears are deceivin' me!"
"But I'm a girl," she cried. "I'm lying to them. I'm doing men's things—"
"And you do them better than most young men," George replied firmly. "Hush yourself. Think of them hatin' you if it comes to be. And don't worry. Your secret is safe with us." He hugged her around the shoulders.
Alanna rested her head against his chest, her eyes filling with tears of gratitude. She blinked them away and whispered, "Thank you, George."
"I'm callin' you Alanna, when we're alone," he said. "I think you should be reminded of who you are."
Alanna remembered her monthly cycle and said bitterly, "Fat chance I have of forgetting."
Mistress Cooper chuckled, guessing what had prompted Alanna's remark.
Alanna shrugged. "I suppose you insist—"
"I do," was the calm reply.
"Just don't let it slip. I've come too far now."
"He doesn't forget details," Mistress Cooper said drily. "He must get it from his father, for he never had it from me." She went into the room where she had first talked to Alanna.
George chucked Alanna under the chin. "I'll enjoy watchin' you grow up, lass. Count on me to help."
Alanna gripped his hand, meeting his eyes. "I never thought for a second that I couldn't."
"You're probably the only person in the city besides me who can say that," George's mother commented, returning. "He's a good boy, even if he is crooked. Here. Slip this on."
Alanna looked puzzledly at the gold symbol dangling from a thin cord. She had never seen such a letter before, and she could feel it radiating power. Quickly she slipped the cord over her head, tucking it under her shirt. The feeling of strange magic vanished.
"Let George's people bring me to you from now on," Mistress Cooper instructed. "I doubt you'll need me much, though. Give me your hand."
Alanna obeyed. The woman just touched her fingers, then pulled away as if she had been burned.
"Now what?" Alanna wanted to know.
"Poor lass." There was pity in the woman's face. "The Goddess has Her hand on you. You've been given a hard path to walk." She tried to smile. "Luck to you, Alanna of Trebond. You'll need it."
ALANNA was just slipping into her rooms when Coram found her.
"Two guesses as to who's wantin' to see ye."
Alanna made a face. "I couldn't help it. The problem was urgent."
"Yer problem now is urgent, too," was the reply. "The Duke's fit to be tied."
For visiting the city without permission, Duke Gareth restricted Alanna to the palace for two months. She also had to report to him during her time after the evening meal and run his errands. She took it without complaint, since she had no choice. She certainly couldn't tell a displeased Gareth why she had ridden off for the city.
Her thirteenth birthday passed, and it was August before she was free to leave the palace again. Even after she was taken off restriction Alanna remained on her best behaviour. The Duke of Naxen had never been satisfied with her vague excuses for her morning ride to the city, and he watched her, so she watched herself.
Duke Gareth was not the only one keeping an eye on her. Sir Myles still observed her at odd moments. Her friendship with the knight had deepened steadily, until she was spending some nights playing chess with her older friend rather than joining the Prince and his circle. For one thing, Myles told fascinating stories. Myles could also explain why people behaved as they did. Although fighting was becoming second nature to her, Alanna didn't understand people. Myles did, and she turned to him for instruction.
They were playing chess one fall evening when Myles asked, "Have you ever seen my estates? They lie just off the Great Road North, between here and Trebond."
Alanna frowned at the board. "I've never been anywhere except Trebond and Port Caynn."
Myles raised his eyebrows. "You should see more of Tortall. Did you know I have ruins up at Barony Olau dating back to the Old Ones?"
Alanna was fired with curiosity. She knew a little about the Old Ones. They had sailed across the ocean to build a civilization north of the Inland Sea. Bits and pieces were all that was left: parchments that lasted centuries, mosaics showing white cities with high towers—and ruins. The royal palace was built on the remains of one of their cities. Alanna had always wanted to know more about these people who had come before hers.
"Are they good, your ruins?" she asked eagerly. "Have you ever found anything there?"
Myles's eyes danced with amusement. "They're large, and I've found a number of things there. Would you like to ride up with me and have a look? You're in check, by the way."
"I'd love to go. D'you think it's true, that the gods were afraid the Old Ones would challenge them, so they rained fire on the Eastern Lands? There." She moved her king out of danger. She glanced at Myles in time to see an odd, thoughtful look on his face.
"I never knew you were so interested in the Old Ones—or the gods."
Alanna shrugged. "It's not something I talk about much. Duke Roger doesn't like to answer questions about the Old Ones or the gods. Well, he says we aren't old enough to understand. And the others aren't very interested."
"I don't think that's wise," Myles commented. "Our gods are much too busy in our lives for us to ignore them." He moved a piece. "Check, and mate."
Alanna was dressing for bed when Timon came for her. She changed back into her clothes rapidly and followed the servingman.
"What have ye done now?" Coram called after her. "Why does the Duke want to see ye this time?"
"How should I know?" Alanna said, turning to scowl at the soldier. "Maybe he likes my company."
Instead of taking her to Duke Gareth's office, near the King's council chambers, Timon took Alanna to the Duke of Naxen's private study, in his personal suite. Alanna was shocked to find Duke Gareth wearing a bright brocade dressing-gown.
The tall man looked at her and sighed. "I suppose you know Sir Myles wants you to ride with him to Barony Olau tomorrow?"
Alanna gulped. "He mentioned my visiting him, but I didn't know it'd be today or tomorrow, saving your Grace's presence, sir." She twined her hands nervously behind her back.
The Duke smiled thinly. "I'm not angry, if that's what's making you babble. I'm simply puzzled. I wasn't aware the two of you were so close."
Alanna shifted her weight on her feet. "We play chess, sometimes." she admitted. "And I wait on him at dinner—you gave me that duty, sir."
"So I did."
"And he knows things I don't understand. I can talk to him, sir." Alanna blushed. "I didn't mean to imply—"
The man actually grinned. "Don't put your foot in it any more than you have, lad. I'm not here to be your nanny. And I'm not displeased that you and Myles are friends. It's good for you to have an older man to talk to. If your own father had any—" He stopped short. Alanna was surprised to see him blush faintly. "That was uncalled for. Forgive me, Alan."
"I know of nothing to forgive you for, sir," she said honestly.
"All right, then. You'd better get some sleep. Myles plans an early start. I'll have Coram wake you. You'll be gone for a week. I expect you to keep up with your studies, or I'll think twice about any other outings of this sort."
"Thank you, your Grace." Alanna bowed deeply and hurried from the ducal presence. She ran back to her rooms, to find Coram waiting up for her. She told him her news, hardly able to stand still from the excitement. "And the Duke wears a red-gold brocade dressing-gown. Can you imagine?" she asked as she disappeared behind her dressing screen.
Coram chuckled. "It's things like that that remind me who ye are. Sometimes even I forget ye're not a lad."
The Song Of The Lioness Quartet #1 - Alanna - The First Adventure Page 10