The Song Of The Lioness Quartet - In The Hand Of The Goddess Part 20

"He'll be powerful protection for Jon. You can go adventurin' without another thought." Alanna nodded. George watched her for a moment before adding, "Was he always so proud?"

Alanna raised miserable eyes to her friend. "I don't know," she admitted. "I don't think so. He was different when we went home to bury our father. I could see then he was turning hard. I suppose that as powerful as he is, he has every right to be proud. Not everyone can harness so much magic. I never tried; I was afraid to."

"A wise kind of fear," George pointed out. "Besides, what would you be-a fine warrior and a great sorcerer?"

"It's not that," Alanna protested, realizing George thought she might be a little jealous. "It's that he seems so lonely. And he doesn't even realize it."

George raised his eyebrows. "Do I believe my ears? Alanna the Heartless talkin' for love instead of against it?"

"Don't tease, George. He's my brother, I love him."

"He knows that," George said, hugging her around the shoulders. "And I know I for one envy him. Now, eat up. We've a long ride home."

THIS time they did not stop at Trebond. They rode past Trebond Way, Alanna stopping only for a moment to look toward her home. More and more the palace felt like home to her, and Trebond was only a place on the map.

It was sunset the day after they pa.s.sed Trebond, and they still had a few leagues to go before reaching the next wayhouse. It was George who sensed trouble, pulling his bay up short. His nostrils flared, as if he were sniffing the wind.

"Unless my city-bred nose betrays me-" He broke off with a cry of pain: an ugly black arrow sprouted from his collar bone. Men were pouring out of the trees, surrounding them. "Ride on!" cried George between gritted teeth.

Moonlight reared, flailing with her hooves at the two ruffians who tried to grab her reins. George yanked a dagger from its sheath and hurled it into a man's throat. "Ride!" he yelled as four more swarmed down upon them.

"No!" Alanna cried fiercely. She rode Moonlight straight at a man who was putting an arrow to his bow. The mare trampled him ruthlessly as Alanna drew Lightning, slas.h.i.+ng at a third attacker.

George drew his own sword to kill the man who was trying to pull him from his saddle. His face was pale, and Alanna remembered with horror that the first messenger to Thom had been slain with poisoned arrows. With a yell of fury she cut down two men who were trying to herd her away from George. Wheeling Moonlight, she saw George fling his second dagger into an attacker's shoulder. George pulled his bay to a halt, his face white in the gathering darkness. "Never mind me," he gasped, "the arrow's not poisoned. Find out from that one what you can!" He pointed to the man he had just wounded, the only attacker still standing. Alanna cut the killer off as he tried to run, kicking him down before she dismounted. Furious, she leveled her sword at the man's throat. He stared at her, trying to inch away.

"Hold still!" Alanna yelled, her voice cracking with rage. This animal and his friends had hurt George! "Who sent you? Who!"

"You weren't to be hurt," the ruffian babbled, his eyes wide with terror. "'I want the boy alive,' we was told, and him never sayin' you was a killer, and the man, too! 'They'll be easy game. Jest bring the boy an' kill the man an' there's gold in it for you.' That's what we was told-"

"Who told you?" Alanna roared. The man opened his mouth and tried to speak.

He made little choking noises as large beads of sweat rolled off his face. Suddenly he turned pale and screamed, clawing at invisible hands on his throat. His eyes rolled up and he collapsed-dead. Quickly Alanna fumbled for the ember-stone under her clothing. She gripped it, and instantly saw traces of orange fire vanis.h.i.+ng from the man's body.

"Sorcery," she whispered. She turned to look at George. Her friend was swaying in his saddle. There was no time to waste. Alanna grabbed a length of rope from her saddlebags and tied George to his horse's back. Mounting Moonlight, she gave the man her brandy flask while she examined his wound. The shaft had pa.s.sed through the muscle of George's shoulder; the arrowhead stood clear of his back. Steeling herself, Alanna cut the arrow feathers away and pulled the shaft through the wound. The thief fainted against her as she worked, and she could only be thankful. Leaning George forward on his horse, Alanna took the other animal's reins and set off into the night.

It seemed like forever came and went before they reached the wayhouse. Once there, Alanna snapped orders to the hostlers, watching anxiously as they drew George off his horse's back and carried him inside. She brushed aside the innwife's offer to send for a healer, explaining briefly that she was a healer herself. A room was quickly prepared for them, and a maid fetched brandy, boiling water and clean linen for bandages. Alanna worked to clean and bind up the wound, putting her most powerful healing magic on it. Then, exhausted by the fight and the magic, she watched George late into the night. She didn't like his color. He'd lost so much blood. . . .

"Don't die on me," she whispered when the clock struck midnight and he still had not moved. "It's only a little shoulder wound. G.o.ddess, George-don't die on me."

His eyes flickered open and he smiled. "I didn't know you cared," he whispered. "And why insult me? I won't die for a wee nick like this; I've had worse in my day."

Alanna wiped her wet cheeks. "Of course I care, you unprincipled pickpocket!" she whispered. "Of course I care."

FAITHFUL woke Alanna shortly after dawn on her eighteenth birthday. Wake up and get dressed, the cat told her. You don't want the surprise they've planned to be a surprise for them as well as for you. Jonathan says to hurry!

Alanna was tucking her s.h.i.+rt into her breeches when the Prince rapped on her door. "Are you decent, Squire?" he demanded.

Alanna yanked the door open. "I'm always decent, overlord," she replied. Then she saw that Gary, Raoul and Alex were with him. "Isn't it a little early for this?" she asked plaintively.

They filed into her room, each carrying a bulky package.

"That's all right, grouch," Gary said, thumping her shoulder. "Happy birthday."

The young men piled their packages onto the bed, then turned to look at Jonathan. He glared back at them. "I thought Raoul was going to tell Alan."

"You talk better than I do," Raoul said.

"What they're trying not to tell you," Gary said patiently, "is that we discussed it, and we decided our hero-to-be should be properly outfitted." He gestured to the packages on the bed. "The gifts are from all of us, and Their Majesties, and my father, uh-Duke Baird, Dougla.s.s, Geoffrey, Sacherell-did I forget anyone?"

"I don't think so," Alex said.

"Myles said he was d.a.m.ned if he would get up at this hour, but if you went down to the stables, you'd find something from him," Raoul added.

Jonathan handed Alanna the largest, heaviest package. "Go on," he urged when she simply stared at it. "It's for you."

The package contained the lightest mail s.h.i.+rt Alanna had ever handled, washed with gold. The other packages held a gold-washed helmet, a belt made of gold wire picked out with amethysts, soft kid riding gloves, a gold-trimmed sheath for Lightning and a matching dagger, and gold-washed mail leggings to match the s.h.i.+rt. Alanna opened all of the gifts silently. The smallest package, from her "Cousin George," contained a black opal ring set in pale gold.

She looked at them, awed and frightened by this show of affection. "I-I don't know what to say."

"Don't say anything," Jonathan advised. "Go take a look at Moonlight."

Myles's gift was a complete outfitting for the mare, made of well-worked leather trimmed with gold. Moonlight voiced her pleasure with a high-pitched whinny, while Faithful sat in a special cup for him attached to the saddle, purring with contentment. Alanna had to cry with happiness, but she hid her face in Moonlight's mane. No one noticed.

No one would accept her thanks, either. The other young men ordered her to be quiet, or, if she had to express appreciation, to do so by teaching them the words to the bawdy songs she had learned from the men of Fort Drell.

"Why are you so confused?" Jonathan asked her late that night. "Can't you see we all love you and want you to succeed-even if you insist on leaving us?"

"They'll hate me more than ever when they find out the truth," Alanna said miserably.

"Nonsense. And haven't you thought that some of them may have guessed by now?"

Alanna looked at her friend and lover. "Myles," she whispered. "I'll bet he knows."

Jonathan decided not to say anything about the very odd conversation he had had with Myles the day after the Tusaine kidnapped Alanna. "Why not ask him?" he replied instead.

Alanna was thinking about this when she remembered something else. "Jonathan, I have to have two knights to instruct me in the Code of Chivalry while I take the purifying bath, before the Ordeal. What am I going to do?"

"I suggest you tell Cousin Gary." Jonathan yawned, falling onto his bed. "He'll think it's a wonderful joke. And I think we can instruct you in the Code after you bathe."

Alanna grinned, lying down beside him. "You just don't want Gary to see me bare."

"You're right, I don't! Do you?" Jonathan asked suspiciously, looking her in the eyes. When Alanna only giggled, Jonathan repeated, "Do you?"

"You're very jealous for someone who isn't serious about me." She grinned.

Jonathan made her look at him. "I am serious, in my way," he said quietly. "But if I talked of love to you, you'd run off."