Alanna curled up around the side he had kicked, sweating with pain. No one was watching her two companions; all attention was on her and the Duke. She looked up at him, boiling mad.
"You are brave, kicking a chained prisoner. They must sing heroic ballads about you on winter nights!"
Hilam grabbed her chains, yanking her to her feet. "I've heard about your tongue, Squire." He was smiling calmly; that frightened her. No one as angry as Hilam smiled, unless he was insane. "Perhaps I'll cut it out." He threw her against the rear wall and advanced on her.
Alanna struggled to her feet, never taking her eyes off him. "Behavior I'd expect from the goatherd's bastard, not a nobleman," she taunted as Micah and Keel inched toward the open door. "Perhaps your mother tricked your father?"
Hilam hit her again, knocking her to her knees. Micah and Keel bolted out the door, running for all they were worth. When Hilam turned to follow, Alanna grabbed him, wrapping her arms around his torso. The Tusaine was stopped from throwing a spell after the escaping men by the magic that kept Alanna helpless.
"Don't follow!" Hilam ordered, yanking out of Alanna's hold and slapping her. "This is the one we have to worry about!"
"Let me have him," Jemis urged. "He's been an annoyance to me for a long time. I could have killed Prince Jonathan that night if he hadn't been there."
Alanna could hear shouting in the distance. She crossed her fingers and prayed her friends would escape.
"He's been an annoyance to many for a long time," Hilam snapped, his clean-shaven face grim. "Before I let you play with him, he's going to tell me something about Tortall. He's going to tell me all Prince Jonathan's plans and all King Roald's plans. Then he will tell me things that don't interest me at all, but he'll tell them because he'll say anything to stop the pain."
"Pigs might fly," Alanna snapped. She spat in the man's face.
Hilam wiped the spit away, his lovely eyes thoughtful. "You'll take a while to break." He smiled suddenly, and her stomach sank. "That will be quite enjoyable. Only think, you'll have the doubtful fame of being the one responsible for my taking this entire valley. How does that sit with your much-loved honor, Squire Alan?"
"Perhaps your mother betrayed your father with a warthog," Alanna said thoughtfully. She would just get sick if she listened to what he was saying. "You both certainly have a warthog's manners. Jem there even has a warthog's looks."
Jem lunged for her, only to be stopped by one of the guardsmen.
"Jemis is very rash," Hilam told Alanna. "I'm not. It's going to take far more than these little barbs to pierce my armor—"
"Perhaps my sword will pierce it, then?" Jonathan asked coolly from the doorway. "Thank you, Faithful. You seem to have led us to the right place."
Micah, Keel, Gary, Sacherell, Raoul and Douglass were behind the Prince. Faithful ran between their feet to place himself between Alanna and her tormentor, hissing angrily. Hilam, unnerved by the cat's purple stare—so like Alanna's own—stepped back into Sacherell's grip.
Jonathan laid the point of his sword beside Hilam's nose. "Don't move, please, and don't try any sorcery. I'll make you swallow it." He turned to the three soldiers, who were watching Gary's and Raoul's drawn bows with keen attention. "The keys to my friend's chains. Now."
The captain tossed them to Alanna, who grinned at him before setting to work on the locks. "Jonathan, the soldiers are all right. But these two"—she pointed to Hilam and Jemis—"are King Ain's brothers."
"Jem Tanner, a king's brother?" Micah gasped.
A slow grin spread across Jon's face. "I think I know how we are going to leave this camp safely. We're taking two guests with us, two very important guests. And I'm sure we can think of a fair ransom. Don't you, Duke Hilam? I know King Ain will not think peace is not too small a price to pay, not for his brothers' lives."
KING ROALD was not pleased, but—as Myles and Jonathan had known—he could scarcely behead his own son. Instead Roald negotiated the Drell Peace, in which Tusaine vowed to relinquish all claims to the valley forever. King Ain was willing to agree to much more: he wanted his brothers back to rule his lands for him. By the end of August the peace was signed, and Alanna and her friends were able to go home.
7: Winter Lessons
ALANNA pulled her cloak tight against the wind and knocked hard on the door marked with the healer's sign. She waited, watching the last fall leaves dance in the street, until Mistress Cooper appeared.
"Hello," Alanna said shyly, letting the hood fall back from her face so George's mother could see who her late-night visitor was. "Can we talk?"
Mistress Cooper smiled, motioning Alanna inside. "It's been a long time, little one," she commented as she bolted the door. "Come into the kitchen and I'll make us some tea." She led the way, her majestic form casting a long shadow in the hallway. "I trust you're recovered from your wounds? How is your arm?"
Alanna took off her cloak and draped it in front of the kitchen fire before rotating her left arm obediently. "It's a little stiff sometimes, but it's all right now. I wasn't as badly hurt as people think."
Mistress Cooper put on the teakettle. "My son doesn't feel as you do. But perhaps he has his reasons for worrying?"
The girl blushed. "George worries about me too much. I hope he gets over it before I go away."
"So you still plan to leave us once you have your shield?" The woman moved around the room on silent feet, getting cups and a plate full of cakes. Alanna bit into one of the cakes eagerly; she had only picked at her dinner.
"Of course," she said, her mouth full. She swallowed quickly. "I have a feeling that when I tell them I'm a girl, they won't want me around."
"Could be you're not doing them justice," Mistress Cooper suggested, pouring out the tea. "George tells me you're liked and trusted."
Alanna frowned. "Not by all." Shoving Duke Roger to the back of her mind, she cradled the cup of tea in her hands.
"How is His Highness?" the woman asked, sitting down.
Stirring the tea with the tip of her finger, Alanna replied softly, "I'm not sure. He's been—very odd, lately. Ever since we returned from the Drell Valley."
"How so?"
"He… he blows hot, then cold. Sometimes I'm his best friend in the world. And sometimes he acts as if I'm poison. It doesn't make sense. He—" Alanna blushed. "He kissed me, this summer. I think he wants to do it again, except he doesn't. Sometimes he talks as if he doesn't like George, except I know that isn't true, because he comes into the city to see George when I'm occupied. He expects a lot from a person!" Alanna burst out, getting up to pace. "If I go to social events with him—and he makes me go—I have to have every hair in place. I have to have better manners than everyone else. I have to dance with all the ladies, as he does, even though no one else has to. I tell him I feel like a fool, and he tells me it's better to be a fool who's considerate than a fool who isn't. But if I really talk to a lady—or even to Gary or Raoul—for a bit, he gets angry! He says I mustn't lead the ladies on, and he accuses me of flirting with Gary and Raoul in the same breath!" Alanna sat down and gulped her tea, surprised at how the words had tumbled out of her.
"You seem rather angered with Prince Jonathan," Mistress Cooper observed.
Alanna turned deep red. "I don't know how I feel," she muttered. "I just can't figure out why he's treating me this way. But that isn't what I came about." She drew a deep breath. "Would you teach me how to dress like a girl?"
Mistress Cooper raised her eyebrows. "Now, this is odd," she said calmly. "Why such a request?"
Alanna made a face. "I don't know. I just—I see all the Queen's ladies wearing pretty things, and I've been thinking lately I like pretty things. I'm going to have to be a girl someday. Why shouldn't I start practicing now?"
If Mistress Cooper thought Alanna's sudden wish to look pretty had anything to do with Jonathan, or with George, she knew better than to say so. Instead she agreed to help Alanna with her new project, beginning that very night by taking th
e girl's measurements.
SEVERAL days later, Alanna came to Mistress Cooper's for fittings. As the older woman adjusted a hem, Alanna twisted, trying to see her back in the long mirror. "Hold still," Mistress Cooper ordered, her mouth full of pins. "You're worse than a city lad getting fitted with his first pair of long breeches."
"It doesn't look right," Alanna objected, trying to hold her body rigid while she turned her head. "It looks like Squire Alan in a girl's dress."
"That's because we've done nothing with Squire Alan's hair. Hold still!"
The dress properly fitted, Mistress Cooper fussed with the girl's flaming locks and put some cosmetics on her flinching face. "I think you're wise to start accustoming yourself to woman's gear," she commented as she brushed dark color over Alanna's eyelids. "Although you've a lot to learn."
"If I'd known it was going to be this much fuss, I never would've asked," Alanna muttered. Her friend laughed. "It's just... I needed an adventure. I've been pretty restless lately."
"Life in the palace is too tame for you?" Mistress Cooper asked sympathetically.
"Not too tame, precisely," Alanna objected. "I just need to go somewhere. I need to get away from—certain people." She didn't want to say that Jonathan had kissed her again only the night before. She didn't even want to remember it, because when she did she also remembered the strange and frightening excitement she had felt when he held her. Now she sighed, confused.
"I need time to think about things."
"I see," Mistress Cooper replied. "Well, stand up, child. Let me look at you."
Alanna stood, patting her pinned-up hair and tugging her skirt. Mistress Cooper had a very odd look on her face.
"Is something wrong?" Alanna asked nervously.
The older woman made her face the mirror. Alanna swallowed. She was looking at a lady.
"I'm beautiful," she whispered in awe.
Mistress Cooper laughed at this. "You'll pass," she said, pushing Alanna into the kitchen. "You're not as beautiful as Lady Delia, say, or the new lady at Court, Cythera of Elden."
Alanna sighed. "Nobody's as beautiful as the Lady Cythera," she said drily. She moved to sit down.
"Not that way!" Mistress Cooper cried in alarm. "You'll rumple your skirts! Sweep them out—like this—and sit with them spread around you. And keep your feet together."
Alanna tried this. It took several attempts before she got it right. "It's going to be as hard to learn to be a girl as it was to learn to be a boy."
"Harder," the woman said, putting the tea on. "Most girls don't have to unlearn being a boy. And now you have two sets of Court manners to master."
"But I already know Court manners," Alanna protested, getting the cups down.
"Do you know the different kinds of curtsy?" Alanna shook her head. "How to write invitations?" Alanna shook her head. "How do you accept an offering of flowers from a young knight, or a married man?"
"As if I'd be getting flowers from anybody!" Alanna snorted. She rummaged in the cupboards. "Any cakes left?"
"I baked some fresh—"
"Great Merciful Mother!" Alanna gasped. She could hear horses in the courtyard: visitors! Her hand flew to the ember-stone and her pregnancy charm, both now revealed by the low neckline of her dress. Turning, she ran for the door leading to the rest of the house.
Mistress Cooper caught her. "What has gotten into you?"
The kitchen door opened. "Mother, see who I finally brought to meet you!" George called. He turned to someone still outside. "Come on in, then—she's here."
"Stand straight," Mistress Cooper told Alanna. "Face him. You'll have to do it sometime."
Alanna drew a breath and turned around. George was still looking outside. "The man will take care of your horse; that's what he's there for," he told his companion. He looked back at his mother. "I'm sorry. I didn't know you had—"
The King of Thieves stopped talking abruptly. His eyes widened. Carefully he looked Alanna over, inch by inch, while the girl turned a deep red. "It's not polite to stare," she said tartly.
"George, you're blocking the way." Someone behind the thief laughed. Alanna turned pale. She knew that voice. "Have you changed your mind? You don't want me to meet your mother after all?" Prince Jonathan, dressed in the plain shirt and breeches he always wore into the city, edged into the kitchen behind the thief.
Mistress Cooper moved forward, smiling. "And so you're Prince Jonathan, or is it Johnny today?"
"I'm always Johnny in the city," Jonathan admitted.
Alanna put her hands on her hips, scowling. "And do you mention the fact in front of every strange young lady you meet?" she demanded.
Jonathan looked at her, a small frown crossing his face. "Forgive me, gentle lady. I didn't see..." His voice trailed away as he stared. Finally he whispered, "You—you're wearing a dress. You look—" He blushed, swallowed and changed the subject. "Where did you get the stone around your neck? I haven't seen it before."
"Close the door," Mistress Cooper ordered him. "You're letting the cold in. Lass, we'll need two more cups, I think."
George gripped Alanna's arm as she moved past him. "So you're a girl, after all."
"I thought you knew that," Alanna snapped.
She looked at Jonathan. "You don't seem surprised."
He grinned. "Oh, I am, a little. I knew you were up to something, though. You've been awfully mysterious lately. And remember I caught you two days ago piling your hair on top of your head and looking at yourself in the mirror."
"Some people think they're pretty observant since they became heroes of the war," Alanna said sniffing.
"Maybe I do," Jonathan replied amiably. "But what is that stone?"
Alanna looked at the ember-stone, fingering it. "I got it from—from a Lady I met once."
Jonathan frowned. "Why would a lady give you a charm? It looks valuable, whatever it is; and it's magic for certain."
Alanna shrugged. "If it's magic, it's not magic I can use. And she gave it to me—well, it's a long story, and I really don't want to tell it right now. I don't understand it myself." She sat down, and Mistress Cooper handed her the teapot.
"Pour," the woman instructed. "You two can take off your hats, at least. Don't you know when you're being served by a lady?"
IT WAS NOT the last time Alanna wore a dress. Wearing a black wig, she went into the city (usually in Mistress Cooper's company), getting used to her skirts and learning about the things most girls her age took for granted. They had the most fun in the marketplace, where they often shopped for additions to the wardrobe Alanna kept in a locked chest at the foot of her bed. Snow came in mid-November, falling for days and forming immense drifts. The people watched and prayed for a break in the weather. It finally came, and the snow ceased to fall, leaving in its place bitter cold that refused to break. Huntsmen called it "Wolf Winter," the time when wolves, finding little else to hunt, turned on men. Alanna, loathing the cold, bundled up and tried her best to ignore it.
In early December the first reports of wolves came from the villages around the Royal Forest. The King sent hunt after hunt to slay the man-killers, while other fiefs in the north of Tortall reported the same problem. Coram wrote that he had moved the families of Fief Trebond into the castle to keep them safe. There was certainly room enough, he added in his letter, but it was annoying to have so many children underfoot.
By February most of the killers were slain or in hiding, except one. He was called Demon Grey. He had been wounded at least three times—a huntsman's arrow had even taken one of his eyes recently—but nothing seemed to stop him for long, for he continued to prey on the villages of the Royal Forest. When at last he entered a woodsman's hut, taking away a baby girl, the King ordered every man in the palace who could carry a spear out for the hunt. Duke Roger came, splendid in ermine-trimmed green velvet. Duke Gareth was there, his bad leg still a little stiff. Even Myles was present, warm in brown velvet and fur and looking uncomfortable. The King himself led the hunt.
Alanna was even more uncomfortable than Myles. Moonlight had cast a shoe; Alanna couldn't ride her. Instead she was mounted on a prickly chestnut with a hard mouth, a fidgety, anxious fellow who obviously preferred his nice warm stall. Alanna didn't blame him. She dressed to survive the weather, with several layers of wool clothing and fleece-lined leather over it all. When she checked herself in the mirror, she was several sizes larger.
"We're going to hunt, not sleep out all night," Jonathan said, laughing when he saw her.
Alanna blushed. "I get cold."
"I don't think you can move with all those layers on," he told her as they waited in the courtyard for his father to arrive.
"Oh?" Leaning from the saddle in a swift movement, Alanna scooped up a handful of snow and lobbed it into her prince's face. "See?" She grinned as she trotted past Jonathan. "I'm warm and mobile."
She caught up with Gary and Raoul, riding with them for a while. She saw little of her large friends these days; the King always had duties for them. The three laughed and joked until the Huntsman-in-Charge blew the Discovery up ahead. Then the knights rode on while Alanna stayed back, knowing she wouldn't be needed. She didn't mind if someone else got the glory in a hunt of this size. Too often she felt sorry for the animal, outnumbered by so many armed and trained knights. (Not that she ever could feel sorry for a child-killing wolf.)
The discovery was a wolf. The King brought it down himself. But it was not Demon Grey. Alanna watched every movement between the trees, wishing she had brought Faithful. It had seemed silly in the morning to bring a cat on a wolf hunt, but now she missed her companion's sharp ears and nose.
The hunt moved on, bagging another wolf and a mean old boar. Slowly the hunters spread out over the Royal Forest, until occasionally Alanna followed it by sound alone. When it swept around her, she would fall in with the others, then the hunters would ride on. She wasn't worried. She was never so far away that a blast on the horn hanging at her waist wouldn't bring someone immediately, and there were usually other horsemen around. Besides, Demon Grey attacked children and old people, not warriors.
Tortall 1 - Song Of The Lioness #2 - In The Hand of the Goddess Page 9