The Song Of The Lioness Quartet - In The Hand Of The Goddess Part 7

"Then we've very little time, and we're not prepared." Myles shook his s.h.a.ggy head. "Gareth and I tried to convince Roald that Hilam would do this. If we were dealing only with King Ain, there'd be no trouble. He just wants to be left in his pleasure gardens with his wives. But Hilam-"

"Has notions?" Alanna suggested.

MYLES' information had an immediate effect on the palace. Every high-ranking n.o.bleman was summoned to the War Chamber to confer all the next day and late into the night. Messengers and carrier pigeons went out from the castle in droves as the halls buzzed with gossip. Alanna could only wait. Jonathan was included in the discussions, but his squire was not.

She was reading in her rooms late the next night when the Prince returned at last. He shook his head when she gestured toward a chair. "I'm for bed," he said. "I just wanted you to know it's war. Father's sent out the Call to Muster. The initial force-that's us-rides in five days."

Alanna's heart drummed uncomfortably. Like it or not, she would be in her first battle before she turned sixteen. "Who's commanding?" she asked.

"Uncle Gareth," was the reply. "Get your sleep. You'll need it."

AFTER several days of gathering arms and supplies and outfitting men from nearby towns and villages, the initial force was ready. Three days after the Call to Muster went out, the force a.s.sembled in military formation on the wide gra.s.s-covered hill between the palace and the Temple District, awaiting review by the King and Duke Gareth. Alanna, stationed just behind Jonathan, surveyed the ranks of men when Duke Gareth wasn't looking. We've done pretty well for not being prepared, she was thinking with pride, when a horse's whinny split the spring air.

Duke Gareth's chestnut, a big, good-natured animal, was pawing the air and rolling his eyes as he screamed. The puzzled Duke was fighting to get the gelding under control when his saddle slipped to the side. Gareth of Naxen fell heavily, dangerously close to his horse's thras.h.i.+ng hooves.

"Hold your formation!" Jonathan roared as a dozen men started forward. King Roald already had the chestnut's reins in his hand, and his servants were at the fallen man's side. Jon planted himself solidly in front of Gary, who was going to ride to his father anyway. "I said, hold formation!"

The big knight glared at his cousin in helpless fury; for a second Alanna was afraid he might hit Jon. The Prince ignored the threat, adding softly, "What can you do for him that isn't already being done? We're an army, Sir Gareth; let's try and act like one!"

For a moment the tension between them held. Then Duke Gareth's son nodded grimly and returned to his place in the ranks of knights.

Duke Baird, chief of the palace healers, was already beside Gary's father. Duke Gareth's face was white, and he was biting his lip in obvious pain. Alanna let her hands tighten on her reins until Moonlight fidgeted nervously. She could see the strange angle of Duke Gareth's left leg. When she heard shortly afterward that the Duke's leg was broken in three places and that the King would be appointing a new commander-in-chief, her feeling of doom grew. It was all too neat; so neat that she decided to miss the announcement of the new commander and pay a visit to the stables.

Handing Moonlight an apple, she whistled a brief tune. There was a noise in the hayloft, and her old friend Stefan climbed down the ladder, carrying a blanket.

"Thought ye'd be by," the hostler grunted. "Ye've a real nose fer trouble, ain't ye?"

Alanna grinned stiffly at George's man. "What makes you think I didn't come to cosset my horse?"

"Then why whistle me up?" the potbellied hostler wanted to know. "Except to chat, which ye do now an' then. Except now ye're wonderin' how Duke Gareth's beast, what's gentler even than yer own, happened t' throw his Grace this mornin'."

"Well, yes," Alanna admitted.

Stefan opened the folded blanket. "Mayhap I'm wrong. An' then again, mayhap this's why." He showed her a large p.r.i.c.kly burr stuck firmly in the blanket's weave. Alanna worked it loose with difficulty. "They's a cruel scratch in th' poor beast's back where it was," Stefan went on. "An' who cinched his Grace's saddle so loose? They be so many new folk here for th' army, I don't see all as I should."

"Then none of the regular hostlers saddled Duke Gareth's horse?"

Stefan shook his head. "'Twas a newcomer. An' mayhap he was that afeared for his life when Duke Gareth was throwed, an' mayhap not. He's gone."

Alanna mulled this over, handing the blanket back to Stefan. "Thanks for keeping this for me," she said finally.

The hostler shrugged. "I knew ye'd be askin'," he said frankly. "Best be careful, though. Us of th' Rogue knows what happens to them as asks too many questions. By the bye-have ye heard who leads in Duke Gareth's place?"

Alanna shook her head.

"His Grace, th' Duke of Conte." Stefan chewed on a straw, his pale blue eyes fixed on Alanna. "Interestin', havin' a sorcerer-general, eh?"

"Very," Alanna said dryly, ignoring the sinking feeling in her stomach. She turned to go.

"Squire Alan," Stefan added, "ye might be lookin' in th' Lesser Library when ye go back. Ye've got a visitor."

Alanna hurried into the palace, the burr p.r.i.c.king her hand. She was surprised to find the Lesser Library occupied by a hooded monk. Getting the news from Stefan, she had expected to find someone very different.

"Excuse me," she began.

The "monk" drew back his hood and held his fingers to his lips, grinning mischievously. With an exasperated noise Alanna slammed the door and locked it behind her.

"Are you out of your mind?" she asked George in a harsh whisper. "Some of my Lord Provost's men do know what you look like!"

"Upset for my safety?" the thief chuckled. "I'm touched."

"You're touched in the head," Alanna snapped. "Anyway, since you're here, why are you here?"

"I thought you mightn't get the chance to come down to the city before you rode out, and I wanted a word with you. But you were wanting to ask me somethin'."

Alanna showed him the burr. "Stefan found this in Duke Gareth's saddle blanket. He says a new man saddled the Duke's horse, then vanished."

"And you suspect foul play," George prodded.

"Of course I do. But it just doesn't make sense. Why should Tusaine go to the trouble of stopping Duke Gareth from leading the army? That won't keep us from marching the day after tomorrow."

George shook his head. "You're thinkin' like a warrior. Think like a plotter. There might be reasons closer to home as to why Duke Gareth fell from his beast."

"Closer to home?" Alanna asked.

"Who benefits?" George wanted to know. "And stop thinkin' of fightin': start thinkin' of power. Who gains the most power from his Grace's 'accident'?"

Alanna, about to retort that no one gained, remembered the man King Roald had appointed to Duke Gareth's place. Suddenly she swayed, feeling ill.

"Not a commander you'll be trustin' in the field, is he?" the thief asked softly.

Alanna was trembling. "I have to think about this."

George nodded. "Think on it all you may please," he said. "And watch where he places Jonathan and those loyal to Jonathan." He smoothed a hand over her coppery hair. "Would that I didn't have to stay here and keep my own in line. I mislike sendin' you there with no one to help, but there's nothin' for it. I'd be a dead Rogue if I turned my back on my folk for as long as you'll be gone. A week or two, maybe. But not a month and more."

Alanna smiled at him, wis.h.i.+ng he could go with her. Things were always clearer when George was around. "I'll be all right," she said with false a.s.surance. "Faithful will be with me, and if things get bad I'll go to Myles. He's smart enough for three of us."

George smiled down at her, his hazel eyes still worried. "That he is. 'Twill have to do. Watch for more accidents."

"I don't think he wants to hurt me," Alanna demurred. "Just learn my secret."

"I believe he wants you out of the way before he goes further with his plans."

Alanna had to laugh. "What threat could I possibly be to him? No, I'm not as suspicious as you are, George. It must come from your line of work."

Sensing she wanted to change the subject, George shrugged. "Mayhap when Jon is king I'll be givin' up my work."