Disclaimer – Song of the Lioness belongs respectively to Tamora Pierce
CHAPTER ELEVEN
From the journal of Jonathan of Conté:
February 12th
It's been three days since we arrived in this small town of Malak. We are still well inside Tortall's borders, but of great distance from Corus and the west. I suspect that we are actually much closer to Fief Goldenlake; I remember this route from when I visited with my father two years back. It's quiet here, and the local people do not bother us.
I bought this journal book only yesterday. The girl who was selling it was very kind. She also provided us with bandage cloth and healing swabs for Alanna, as well as washing our clothing for us. Aula spent most of the first night cleaning and dressing up Alanna's wounds, as well as forcing the girl to sleep and rest.
This is the first time I've written in a journal. The idea didn't come to me until yesterday, when I realised I had no one and nothing in which to express my thoughts. Who knows if I will come out alive at the end? Perhaps these pages of parchment will survive, as a record of even a glimpse of my life. Immortality is not a gift bestowed upon us, and our existence is in danger at this very moment.
In the meantime, I've had the opportunity to plan out what we'll be doing. All three of them—Danae, Aula and Alanna—are under my care. And the road ahead of us remains unclear. I can only pray and hope that we'll get out Tortall alive. How could we have not seen this coming? The murder of that man; it was intended. For by killing a leading figurehead of the Rebellion, a war on our hands was inevitable.
Who murdered him? Was it an act by someone from the council?
Until I receive enough information about things, I have to get my sister, Aula and Alanna out of Tortall and away from the danger. Raiden is in good hands. I must remember to get into contact with him once we settle out of the border. In this same vein, I wonder what befell Thom of Trebond. Was he kidnapped? I refuse to think anything other than his survival. I need to find out where he is.
Merciful Mother. May he not be with the same fate as his sister.
It's painful. Painful to watch a young girl struggle to make sense of her bearings, after she has lost her memories. Uncle Baird once told me that losing one's memories couldn't be cured by the Gift. Would Alanna eventually remember? It seems impossible at this moment; especially since places and people of home, wouldn't be around to act as instigators to help her remember.
But her safety must come first. I can only hope it won't be too late when we have the time to work on such a delicate problem. She's fragile right now, and she is slowly trusting Aula, learning to be comfortable around her. Will she learn to trust me, as well? Especially, when she discovers the lie I've told her?
She asked me for her name, those few afternoons ago.
It was on the tip of my tongue. Ready to tell that vulnerable girl the name that just might break the wall separating herself from her memories. But it was not her name I gave her. It was not the name of a young lady who had spent a summer with our family, brightening our days and inspiring me to want to overcome that fear I held.
I gave her the name of a frightened girl, who was fleeing her home country, unaware of her identity, or the people who would now be her only guidance. I gave her the name I prayed would protect her from those who could link her to the Conté family.
I named her Alaine. A name to link her to herself, her memories, no matter how far apart they were. I want her to have something that is essentially part of herself, even if it isn't complete. It was a farce. But farces were what were going to keep us all alive and out of Tortall. She deserves this at least. And this is all I can do for her now.