Lioness Rampant (Song of the Lioness)

by Tamora Pierce

  Thayet shrugged. “Look at me, rattling on when you just woke up.” Firmly, she tucked blankets around Alanna. “Try to sleep some more.” She left, carrying the tray.

  Sleep was the last thing Alanna wanted. She’d had a week of it. With an effort she threw off her blankets and stood. Leaning against a bedpost for support, she took inventory: twisted leg—stiff but painless; assorted bruises—fine; gash on her chest and bitten lip—cleanly healed; eyes—teary but working; hands—she didn’t want to think about her hands. Not bad, considering.

  She dressed in garments that could be pulled on. Buttons and buckles were more than she could handle. She tucked her feet into slippers and clumsily ran a brush through her hair. Keeping a watch for well-meaning persons who might shoo her back to her room, she escaped to the stables.

  The stableboy ran when he saw her, which was convenient. There are times in every rider’s life when it is necessary to apologize to a horse, but Alanna preferred not to have witnesses. It was too embarrassing. Moonlight tried to stay aloof as her knight-mistress entered her stall. Alanna offered an apple stolen from the common room, stroking the mare and whispering compliments. Soon Moonlight was nudging and nuzzling, plainly checking Alanna’s hooves, withers, and flanks. The salve on Alanna’s bandages made the mare sneeze.

  “I wish Liam forgave this easily,” sighed Alanna. She looked up to see Faithful sitting on the gate. “Are you angry too?”

  I know why you went. Moonlight and the others were worried, the cat said. I’ve been staying here since the Dragon woke and found you gone. Horses are calmer people. They also don’t throw things at cats. He climbed onto her shoulder, draping himself around Alanna’s neck.

  “Poor Faithful. He didn’t really throw things, did he?”

  Only when he saw me.

  Someone coughed. Coram had been grooming Anvil. Now he leaned against the bay’s stall, watching.

  “Are you going to yell at me, too?” Alanna asked warily.

  “I should, I expect. I thought I raised ye to treat blizzards with more respect.”

  “I did. If you hadn’t taught me how to dress, how to survive, I wouldn’t be here now.” Alanna wanted so much for him to say it was all right. She couldn’t bear it if she lost Coram and Liam both.

  “Surely ye’re not tellin’ me it was a simple matter of layerin’ yer clothes and usin’ snowshoes.” There was a mocking gleam in his eye.

  “No. I used my Gift. Coram, I didn’t have a choice. If I’d walked out of here on a sunny day, Chitral—the being that holds the pass—would’ve dumped another storm right on my head. If there was a safe way to get the Jewel, I would’ve followed it gladly.” To her shame, Alanna felt tears dripping down her cheeks. “Please don’t be angry with me.”

  Coram walked over and put his arms around her. “There, now, Lioness,” he whispered, holding Alanna tightly. “It’s just hard to see ye all grown up and doin’ mighty things.” He wiped Alanna’s eyes with his handkerchief. “Though I don’t know why I’m surprised, since ye always told me ye would.” He put the handkerchief to her nose. “Blow,” he said firmly. She obeyed, just as she had when she was five. “That’s my girl.”

  Buri, Thayet, and Coram came to share Alanna’s dinner, setting their own meals up on tables so they could eat dinner together. Since the inn’s healer had examined and rebandaged her hands, Alanna could use her own knife and fork. That alone lifted her spirits—being fed made her feel helpless. Once the maids cleaned up, they roasted chestnuts in the hearth and told stories until everyone was yawning. Thayet was gathering up her beadwork when Alanna said, “If it’s all right, I’d like to go the day after tomorrow.”

  “Are you crazy?” Buri demanded. “You just got up! You said yourself you won’t be able to grip anything but a fork or spoon for a week!”

  Alanna shrugged. “I’d just like to set out. I’ll be all right.” Meeting Coram’s eyes, she added, “Moonlight won’t let me fall.”

  Shaking her head, Thayet sighed. “We’ll see how you feel tomorrow.”

  Buri stayed when the other two went out. “I want you to know that it’s an honor to ride with you, wherever,” the girl said shyly. “I just hope someday you’ll tell me what happened. It must’ve been awful, the shape you’re in.” She grinned.

  “The innkeeper won’t take payment, did Thayet tell you? The healer won’t, either. The grooms fight over who works on our horses, especially yours. The maids cut up the napkin you used for lunch, so they can each have a bit.”

  “Buri, that’s crazy!” Alanna protested.

  “Ask them,” Buri said impishly. “They say you parted the snows and walked up there to do battle with the God of the Roof for his Jewel.”

  “All this will happen to you someday, once you go out and start performing great deeds,” Alanna threatened as the girl opened the door. Buri winked and left. “What nonsense!” Alanna said to Faithful.

  The inn has filled up over the last three days, was the cat’s lazy reply. The innkeeper raised his prices. He expects a very good year—several very good years, in fact. Word gets around fast. He yawned and tucked his nose beneath his tail.

  Muttering about human folly, Alanna tossed the bedclothes aside and went downstairs. Since her friends had been with her until late, only a few people remained in the common room, most of them drinkers who were oblivious to anything. The innkeeper and a maidservant were cleaning up. Liam sat before the fire in a low chair, feet crossed before him, frowning.

  “I thought Shang warriors were too dignified to sulk.” Alanna hooked a stool over so she could sit in front of him.

  “Go away, Lady Alanna,” he sighed, reaching for a tankard and draining it. The innkeeper came with another tankard and a pitcher, pouring mulled cider for them both before making himself scarce.

  Baffled and hurt, Alanna pinched an earlobe to keep from crying. When she had herself under control again, she rasped, “What’s wrong with you? Are you offended because I didn’t take your manly advice? D’you think I did something you couldn’t have? Is your pride hurt?” She looked at her bandaged hands; they were trembling.

  A massive hand gripped her chin, turning her face so he could stare into her eyes. “Put yourself in my boots.” His voice was soft, his face tight. “I sat here wondering if you’d live while all around me folk talked about those who died of the cold. Moonlight tried to break down the stable door. The hostlers had to drug her. Coram—I never want to see a man that drunk again. Thayet and Buri were fine. Why shouldn’t they be fine? You witched them. Just like you witched me.”

  That’s it, Alanna realized. She had known how he felt about magic, and she had let Faithful spell him anyway. Liam would never trust her again. “Are we finished, then?” she whispered.

  He let her go. She continued to watch him, waiting. “I don’t know, kitten.”

  At the use of her nickname she felt her chin tremble and her eyes fill. “I am sorry. I know it doesn’t do any good, but I am. If you’d wakened, you’d’ve stopped me.”

  Liam nodded. His eyes faded from emerald to a blue-gray she’d never seen before. “Seems there’s nothing we can do, right? I can’t help the way I feel. Not about the Gift. And you can’t help but use it, nor should you. A tool is meant to be used.” After a moment he swallowed and added, “I’m sorry, too.” His voice was cracking. “You probably saw I had my things moved to another room.”

  “Can we be friends, still?”

  “I promise it.” He couldn’t keep the relief from his voice, which hurt Alanna more than anything he’d actually said. She made her excuses and went upstairs to cry over Liam Ironarm one more time.

  Two days later they set out. Alanna couldn’t shake the sense that she had to go home, and her companions had caught the feeling from her. Most of the inn’s staff appeared sorry to say good-bye, although some—like the stableboy—hid their eyes in the Doi gesture of fear and respect when they passed. Alanna tossed a gold noble to the boy, wanting to make up for the fright
her sleep-spell had given him. He dropped it with a yelp, refusing to touch it until a maidservant had picked it up.

  On the road, Alanna stopped for a last glance at Chitral Pass. The snow was nearly gone after the spate of spring temperatures that had followed her adventure. Green showed on the rocky walls leading up into the surrounding mountains. A party of trappers was headed up into Chitral as another company descended from Lumuhu Pass. Alanna wondered if Chitral watched her and waved a farewell in case he did.

  That night they stopped at an inn they’d used on the way north. Where before they had been treated no differently from other wayfarers, now they were honored guests. The news of Alanna’s feat and her possession of the Jewel had spread rapidly, and the inn’s staff made it plain they considered no service to be too small for them to give Alanna and her friends. The landlord refused payment at first but learned that the Shang Dragon could be very persistent. The company received the same treatment from the staff of the next inn, where they spent their second night on the southern road.

  As their third day’s ride drew to a close, Alanna thought wistfully of a camp under the stars. It would be chilly, like any other mountain night, but they would have privacy. If the next inn was like the last two, privacy would be in short supply. Burdened as she was with mending hands, Alanna didn’t want to mention it. The others would have to do her work if they camped.

  Buri halted when they saw the lights of a town ahead. “I’ll meet the rest of you in the morning,” she announced. “I’d rather freeze to death.” She looked guiltily at Alanna. “Sorry, Lioness. I forgot you almost did freeze to—”

  “Enough, Buri,” Alanna growled.

  “I have to stay with Buri so she can protect me,” announced Thayet. “I’m tired of sleeping indoors anyway.”

  The men looked uncomfortable, and Faithful yowled his disgust with overly attentive maids. Alanna sighed in relief. “Let’s find a camping spot.”

  They camped during the remainder of the ride to Port Udayapur, filling their bellies with game, wild greens, and oatcakes. Alanna performed any magic—such as mending her tattered hands—out of Liam’s sight.

  By the time they reached the seaport, Alanna had shed her bandages, and her friends were comfortable around her again. She sometimes felt a pang of sadness when she looked at the Dragon, but she also knew their friendship would last far longer than their romance.

  Once they were settled at one of Port Udayapur’s inns, the travelers met in Alanna’s room to discuss their next step. No one was surprised when Alanna said, “I still can’t shake the feeling Coram and I are needed at home. Neither of us seems able to make contact with anyone. But I have this sense of trouble there. I’m thinking of hiring a ship.”

  “I thought you didn’t like them.” Liam sounded as if he didn’t care one way or another.

  Alanna grimaced. “I don’t. Please, I’d like all of you to come with us. Actually, I’d prefer it. But you may have other plans.”

  Buri and Thayet exchanged looks. “We don’t,” Thayet said. “I still want to go to Tortall.” Buri nodded her agreement.

  Alanna smiled. “Good.” She picked up Faithful, not wanting Liam to see how anxious she was. Things were so bad between them …

  “The innkeeper says a Tortallan galley’s in the harbor.” The Dragon’s voice was quiet. “I don’t know if we can book passage—she’s a diplomatic courier. But I can ask.”

  Alanna grinned. He’d said “we.” “Would you? Maybe if you use my name—Trebond and Olau—they’ll agree.”

  Liam nodded and went out. The others followed, Coram to take their snow gear to the market and sell it now that they no longer needed such things, Thayet and Buri to see the sights. Alanna stayed in her room to nap.

  She was roused from her sleep by a knock on the door. When she opened it, one of the maidservants dropped in a curtsey. “Excuse me, miss or lady,” she began nervously. “The gentleman here insisted that he see you.” She indicated the very large man standing behind her.

  The man stood with his back to the hall’s torches, which meant Alanna was unable to see his face clearly. He had no trouble seeing her, however. A familiar voice said, “Praise Mithros, it is you!” and Alanna was seized up in an enthusiastic hug. Now she could see that his hair and mustache were black, the same color as his wickedly dancing eyes, and that his cheeks were tan and ruddy.

  “Raoul?” she whispered, not sure if she believed it. He grinned, and she returned the hug with one every bit as fierce. “Goldenlake, you sly fox!” She pounded his back in delight as he carried her into her room and kicked the door shut. “Look at you! Look at you!” He was as tall as ever. When he put her down, she had to tilt her head to see him. “Sit, so I don’t hurt myself looking up at you.” He obeyed briefly, only to jump up to hug her again. It was five minutes or more before either of them had calmed down enough to make rational conversation. Faithful climbed into Raoul’s lap to deliver his own welcome while Alanna poured fruit juice for them both.

  Seeing him was almost as good as coming home. During her palace days Alanna’s closest friends were all older than she was: Raoul, Gary, Jonathan, and sometimes Alex—Alexander of Tirragen. The older boys were squires to Alanna’s page and knights to her squire. They’d taught her palace ways and let her join them in adventures and scrapes. She had introduced all but Alex to George, and they had advised her and looked after her.

  “What are you doing here?” she finally remembered to ask. “Last I heard, you were riding desert patrols.” Seeing his dark tan and the burnoose draped over his shoulders, she added, “I see the desert agreed with you. Did you like the Bazhir?”

  He grinned. “They adopted me. Not your people, the Bloody Hawk. The Sandrunners.” He’d named a tribe far to the south of Alanna’s. “I like the Bazhir a lot. All they ask a fellow is to ride and fight and do his share of the work—no paying compliments to people you don’t like or anything like that.”

  Alanna grinned. Both Squire Alan and Sir Raoul were notorious for their dislike of social functions. “So what brings you here now?” she wanted to know. “Is that courier vessel yours? Don’t tell me you’ve turned diplomat.” She sat on the bed as Raoul’s grin faded.

  Raoul looked at the cup in his hands. “I’m no ambassador yet. When Myles got your letter from Jirokan, the one where you said you might come here after the Roof, he told Jon, and Jon sent me to bring you home. He’s got messengers all along the Great Road, in case you’d changed your mind and decided to return that way.”

  Faithful sat beside Alanna, who was now uneasy. “I didn’t know Jon had the authority to do such things,” she said nervously. “I thought only the king could dispatch the diplomatic ships.”

  “That’s right. Jon—” He stopped, looking unhappy. “Look, Alan—No, that’s not right. Alanna—”

  “King Roald is dead?” she whispered.

  Raoul nodded. “Let me tell it in the right order. I don’t want to skip anything.” Alanna nodded, feeling stunned. “See, her Majesty died around the March new moon. No one was surprised, not really. She wasn’t very strong, after the Sweating Sickness—you remember. Then Roger tried to kill her, with that image of his. After you left, Thom destroyed the image so she wouldn’t be hurt by it, but the damage was done. It was only a matter of time. Then, with the winter so bad, and everything else …” He sighed. “Myles and Thom said you were in Berat right about when she passed on.”

  “I wrote them from there. Black God, give her rest,” Alanna murmured. She’d never thought of the court without Queen Lianne, even when she tried to envision the hazy “someday” when Jon would be king.

  Raoul gave Alanna his handkerchief and continued. “The king never got over it; you know how they were about each other.” Alanna half smiled; the royal couple’s devotion was plain to anyone with eyes. “It was three weeks later, something like that. Near the beginning of April. He went hunting and got separated from the rest of the party. He was dead when they found him, an
accident. It looked like he tried to jump—Remember that gorge, the narrow one about half a league above Willow Falls?”

  “Of course.” She’d jumped Moonlight over that gorge many times. It was very deep, and the jump required skill and excellent reflexes. She whispered, “So Jon’s king.”

  “Not officially. The coronation’s set for the day of the July full moon. He’s been acting as king ever since her Majesty died, though. The king just wasn’t interested.”

  “Jon must be heartbroken.”

  “He is, but he’s never had a chance to get away by himself to mourn. Not with things the way they are.” When Alanna looked baffled, Raoul started to pale. “You don’t know, do you?”

  Alanna suddenly felt that something—something more—was seriously wrong. “Know what, Raoul?”

  “You’ve had no word from Tortall this year? Nothing?”

  “The hill roads were almost impassable when Coram and I rode for Berat.” What is wrong with him? she wondered. Raoul’s hands were clenched so tightly in his lap that the knuckles were white. “They were still bad in the south because of the winter rains. No messengers were coming through. And Berat’s too far from the sea to get the news from the ships.”

  “Your Gift, though—?”

  “I didn’t want to contact anyone with it. I was … busy,” she admitted, blushing as she thought of Liam. “What difference does my being in touch or not make? By April we were in Sarain. No messengers could’ve found us there.”

  “This was before April.” Raoul’s voice was tight. “Remember All Hallow? George told us you were with him in Port Caynn.” Alanna’s blush deepened. “Thom was doing experiments—that’s what he told everyone.”

  “He borrowed my Gift.” Her stomach sank. She sensed the worst was coming, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear it.

  “We didn’t know,” Raoul said disjointedly. “He kept it secret till late in February. It probably finished her Majesty … You remember Delia of Eldorne?”