Alanna of Trebond lurked in the shadows, unseen to all but the expert eye. She was a quiet, mysterious girl, that was the way she liked it. But her natural thirst to do good had led her astray. She only realized now, many, many years too late that she could never go back and redo it. If she had never come to the palace, it might not have happened, everyone she cared for might not have been dead. But they were, and it was late, much too late to redo it.

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, or the setting, those are Tamora Pierce's.

Author's Note: I know, I have about a million stories in progress right now, but when I get an idea, I start it, and that's the way it goes.

Dedicated To: Tortallanrider for being a great reviewer and an inspiration to write this. Please check out her stuff too.

Chapter One

Three Years Ago:

Fifteen-year-old violet eyed Squire, Alan of Trebond sat on his bed, deep in thought. He had a secret, and one that he couldn't keep forever, but he couldn't think about that now. Right now he had more pressing matters.

A knock on the wooden door to his left brought him from his thoughts. Quickly, scrambling to his feet, and nearly falling over in the process, he made his way to the door and pulled it open.

Prince Jonathan of Conté smiled at him from the other side of the door. "Hello, Alanna," he said softly, pressing his way into the room past his unwilling squire.

Her guise shattered, Alanna snapped the door shut and rounded on her knight-master. "Of all the times to come and bother me, you had to choose now, Jonathan of Conté, didn't you? Now?"

Jon ran a hand through his thick black hair, his sapphire eyes shining with unshed tears. "I didn't think you'd want to be alone. I'm sorry, Alanna. I thought you'd want someone to stay with you. I miss him too you know."

That's when her whole face and will shattered. Alanna let out a choked sob, and then flung herself against Jon's chest, wrapping her arms around his back like a little child. But what was she to do? Her best friend besides the Prince himself was dead, and it was all her fault!

"Ssh." Jon put his arms around her shoulders and whispered softly in her ear, resting his chin on her head. At first Alanna found it hard to lean on him, she didn't get the feeling that he really cared. But then she felt warm tears begin to fall on her head, and knew that he was despairing the death of their friend as much as she.

The images flashed back to her, horrible and bloody. . .

"Run!" George bellowed over the crowd. But Alanna couldn't leave him. She shoved her way through the crowd, pushing past all the people gathered to watch.

"Be quiet!" The Lord Provost snarled. He pushed George's head down, nodding to executioner. "Let it be known, that George Cooper dies a thief. And not just a thief, but the King of Thieves. Let it be known that he dies a criminal."

Then the sword had come down.

She felt herself choke a sob as his head rolled, and blood sprayed everywhere. Then the Lord had dropped the body, and George's lifeless body crumpled onto the stage. Horror washed over her in a great bloody cloak.

"NO!"

"NO!" Alanna shoved back from Jon, pushing her back against the stone wall. Sweat covered her face, and her whole body was heaving as she breathed as though she had just run a thousand mile race. "NO!" Her throat hurt as she screamed, but she couldn't seem to stop herself. Then the images came over her again. . .

George Cooper was seated atop his horse, and he and Alanna were riding down the country-side, talking merrily. It was one of Alanna's days off, and she had come into the town with Gary and Raoul. But the two knights had quickly made their own plans at the Dancing Dove, and Alanna had followed George into the meadows for a ride.

"Ye kno'," he said, "I wish ev'ry momen' in life could be like this." He waved a hand, indicating the green meadow and the blue sky above. "And ye." He added. "Ye don' look like ye did tha' firs' day I saw ye."

Alanna offered an awkward smile. She didn't like where this was going. "I know I don't. I'm older now, and now I'm Squire Alan."

"Nah, I don' mean that." George smiled. "I meant ye look like Alanna now, not a Page or a Squire."

Alanna blushed. But he was still wrong. She couldn't look like Alanna, or she would be caught. "Well, maybe I do, but we should be going back. Gary and Raoul can't drink forever."

George gave her a lopsided grin. "Sure they can." But he turned his horse back to town nevertheless.

When they had arrived in town, there had been general pandemonium. But somehow it seemed different from all those days with their usual chaos of townlife. That's when Alanna saw. Riding down the center of the street, carving a path with two sets of guards, was the Lord Provost, seated on a black stallion.

George swore, and turned his horse down a side street. Alanna kept riding forward, her eyes locked on the Lord Provost. Then his eyes turned and locked on hers, and he had turned through the crowd, right for her.

He pulled his stallion to halt before her. "Squire Alan?" he questioned. "What are you doing in the town?"

"I came with Sirs Gareth of Naxen the Younger and Raoul of Goldenlake." Alanna shifted nervously in Moonlight's saddle, running the reins anxiously through her fingers. Her horse sensed her discomfort and tossed her head, her silver mane flying.

"And who was that I just saw you with?" Lord Provost nodded towards the alley through which George had vanished.

"Just a friend from town." Alanna sighed mentally, thankful she had thought of something so fast.

"I see." He signaled for his men to look down the alley.

The suspense killed Alanna as she waited nervously for word from Lord Provost's guards. At last they returned, George struggling between them. Her heart caught in her throat as she watched him struggle. But when their eyes met, he mouthed 'go'.

Alanna shook her head ever so slightly, telling him that she wasn't leaving him for anything. But all around her she was scared. The buildings seemed to lean in on either side, and Moonlight thrashed now, feeling the discomfort of her rider.

The Lord Provost hopped off his stallion. "George Cooper." He smiled. "At last I have caught you. And that is odd, because you always elude us. What made it possible that we could catch you?" Without waiting for an answer, he had signaled for his guards to take George to the palace.

The next day at dawn had been the execution.

"Alanna, calm down." Jon's voice was soft, but stifled with his own tears.

"NO!" Alanna crumpled into a little heap on the floor. Tears ran freely down both her cheeks, and her shirt was soaking through. Why did she always have to cry in front of Jon?

Jon sat down next to her, and leaned against her, putting his arms around her head. He kissed her hair softly and pulled her towards him. "We all miss him. Nothing can erase our pain. But we've got to go ahead and move on!"

"No, no, no!" Alanna sobbed. She sniffed, leaning against his shirt. "You know that the Lord Provost c-could never e-ever c-catch George! You know there was something else behind his murder. And murder it was. We have to find out Jon. Please, help me. Please." Alanna pulled back from him, and met his eyes. She pleaded him with her violet eyes sparkling from tears.

Jon stared at her for a long moment. Then he leaned in close, whispering in her ear, his face so close that his breathe tickled her ear. "I promise we'll find out who's behind George's death. I'll always be here for you, Alanna."

Jon put his arms around her, and the two best friends sat there on the floor, torn to bits by George's death, and both seeking comfort in the others arms. But little did either know that the death of a simple thief, even though he was their friend, would change more than they could ever imagine, and not in a good way.

That's the end of the first chapter, hope you liked it. Please review!