Title: And One Go Alone Author: Norah-hunt

Summary: After the last great rising, it is not Merriman that is destined to go alone. High magic has other plans for Will Stanton, last of the Old Ones. And it is the will of the gods which Will is transported into the world of Tortall, in which Alanna of Trebond masquerades as a boy, and Roger the Duke of Conte plots to overthrow the throne. Yes, the Dark has been banished from our world, but its small wings still have some control and power in the distant places of the universe, outside of our time. It's a Dark Is Rising/Song Of The Lioness Crossover, so please humour me and read it. :p

Disclaimer: I do not own Will or Alanna or any other characters, places, ideas and concepts mentioned in this story.

A/N: Once again I'm sorry that I've been so inconsistent with this. I've been monstrously busy and sometimes I just totally forget about it. However, I will strive to finish it, even if it does take a rather long time. Be patient. And you might want to reread it all, in case you've forgotten what's going on. :P

Thanks.


From the night after Alanna's now legendary duel, the Tortallan and Tusainian relations did nothing but deteriorate. Angry voices rose during negotiations as each side bristled over some comment made by the other. Parties were no longer a social occasion; they turned into tense shouting matches, with knights on either side issuing challenges that went beyond friendly competition.

Finally, after two weeks of heated discussion it seemed there was no hope of peace between the two kingdoms. The embassy left hastily, their departure heralded with little pomp and grandeur. They were jeered by the Tortallan common folk as they slipped through the city streets and word began to sweep across the country like wildfire.

It was war.

This announcement brought an immediate and profound difference to those who lived in the Palace. All lessons for the squires were postponed until further notice: the squires would be riding out to war, while the pages stayed at the Palace.

Messenger pigeons were constantly coming and going as Tortall was called to arms. Nearby towns swelled with men as they answered the Call to Muster. Camps were set up where soldiers were outfitted, trained, and where supplies were gathered. Knights also returned from their country estates, dressed in shining plated battle armour.

A week after Ambassador Mikal's hurried departure, Tortall had mobilized its armies and readied itself for war. That week was especially hectic for Will. Although he didn't have any classes, it seemed to him that he was always running one errand or another. Being personal squire to the man that was to inherit one of the most influential titles in all of Tortall was certainly a busy task.

Will was also occupied by his wonderings over what the Dark might gain through this war. He didn't like that Duke Roger would have such a large say in Tortall's battle strategies. As a squire, Will was not privy to the councils in which the battle plans were drawn. Only the information deemed relevant to him would he be told of. Given the time, Will would have cloaked his presence and spied upon the councils. However, in the flurry of preparation, he received no such opportunity.

Although Will had the sword he bought from Merriman, he did not have any armour. He spent one of his afternoons crammed in an already full armoury, waiting to be equipped. The armoury was dank, and smelled of leather, grease and sweat. After being fitted with a chain mail tunic, steel helmet, gauntlets, and shin guards, the Old One was relieved to be away. As a squire, Will could not wear full battle armour. Instead he would wear mail and a thick leather jerkin bearing the crest of his knight master, Gareth of Naxen. It was much lighter than the plate armour, Will discovered, and for that he was grateful.


Dressed in his newly fitted armour, Will sat mounted upon Emma, who fidgeted restlessly. In front of him Gary and Jon sat upon their horses as well. Both were conversing earnestly with Duke Gareth, who had summoned the initial force to assemble on the wide, sloping hill that separated the Palace from the temple district of the city. Duke Gareth was to command the initial force and they would leave soon, heading for the long fought over Valley of Drell.

Alanna was with Moonlight next to the Old One. Will turned to his fellow squire and grinned. "Not bad for only a week's time to prepare, eh?"

Alanna returned his smile and looked back out at the ranks of five thousand men standing in perfect military formation.

"Yes, that's true," she replied proudly, then suddenly her face hardened solemnly and Alanna's violet eyes turned inward as if searching for something only she could find.

"Is this your first time going to war?" She asked suddenly.

Will opened his mouth to respond when suddenly a disturbance from in front of them caused both squires to glance ahead.

Duke Gareth's horse, a large, normally good-natured chestnut was pawing the air and rolling his eyes as he screamed a high-pitched whinny. The Duke struggled to calm his panicked mount, gripping his reins hard and leaning forward to whisper soothing words in its ear. Suddenly the large chestnut pranced spiritedly forward, becoming even more agitated. The Duke's saddle slid to the side and he fell heavily, dangerously close to the thrashing hooves of the still frightened horse.

In a flash, Jon had dismounted and grabbed the reins of his uncle's horse.

"Hold your formation!" he roared as a dozen men scurried forward to help.

They stepped quickly back into place, while Gary practically flew off his horse in an attempt to reach is father. The big knight bent over and scooped up the Duke who had managed to avoid being crushed by his horse's flailing hooves.

"Send for a healer!" he shouted as the Duke groaned and reached for his leg.

Duke Baird, the chief healer, was soon at the side of Duke Gareth, whose face was white with pain. Will watched grimly, feeling that their commander's untimely accident was really no accident at all. He twisted around in Emma's saddle searching for a glimpse of a stealthily retreating figure, the one responsible for spooking the Duke's horse. Unease trickled through the Old One as he turned back to find Duke Baird rising from Duke Gareth's side.

A slight commotion was caused by the arrival of King Roald. He had learned of the incident and had come to investigate. Duke Baird, Jonathon, and the King quickly slipped over to the side, out of earshot from Will. The stood conversing quietly, their serious faces expressing their concern.

Will shot a troubled glance to his friend, Alan. To his surprise, the small squire didn't return it. Instead she sat rigid on her horse, gripping the reigns so tightly that the normally docile Moonlight began to paw the ground nervously.

The Old One looked back at the conversing trio and after a moment's hesitation, willed himself to hear their words…

"Three places, you say?" King Roald asked, his brow furrowed with worry.

"I'm afraid so, Your Majesty. His femur has two fractures in it, and there's a third just below the knee." The head healer replied, "There is absolutely no way he will be fit to command before you leave."

"Yes…" murmured the King thoughtfully, "I shall have to appoint a new commander of the initial force soon."

He turned abruptly to his son, "Jonathon, we must at once hold a War Council. Tell the other lords to gather in the Palace immediately; a new commander must be found as soon as possible."


The next morning all of the Tortallan commanders were summoned to a meeting by their new commander, Duke Roger. Will and Alanna were present too as the Duke outlined his plans. Will watched warily and scrutinized the Rider's words, looking for hidden motives. He was relieved to learn that he, Gary, Alanna, and Raoul would be serving in Jonathan's personal unit. If the Dark was planning an attack, he wanted to be near his friends, ready to defend them.

Referring to an elaborate and detailed map of the Drell Valley frequently, Duke Roger outlined his strategy. The valley was a fertile basin of green fields and forest, with the river snaking lazily through it. However, at one end of the dale, the gentle slopes steepened sharply and the river gurgled frantically over a stretch of rapids. Beyond the rapids were the falls themselves: wide, tall and powerful, the white spray misting the earth in a great circle around the falls. It was at the widest part of the river that the Tusaine camp clustered on the right bank. Across from it, Fort Drell stood proud on the left bank; it would be here that the bulk of the Tortallan troops would be stationed. Lord Imrah of Legann's force would be concentrated above the fort, but directly just below the Drell Falls Prince Jonathan would be stationed.

Will listened thoughtfully as the Duke outlined his reasoning.

"At the falls we have an interesting situation," his honeyed voice was saying, "The River is wide, but shallow and a determined enemy could ford through there – despite the strong current. On a foggy night it is possible that they might slip past our sentries. However, Lord Imrah is within close reach if the need for back up arose. I will also be sending the current garrison stationed at Fort Drell."

He glanced briefly around the room, and then continued confidently.

"I feel this will provide my cousin with an excellent opportunity to ease into command. Here he shall not be in any undue danger and I thought it best that Sir Myles be stationed with him as his advisor."

Will saw Jonathan stiffen, while Sir Myles remarked dryly, "Ah yes, a knight with a rather meagre amount of battle experience…"

The Old One exchanged a glance with Alanna, who was standing rigidly behind Jonathan's chair. Duke Gareth had intended for the Prince to be stationed with him at Fort Drell, so that he might see first hand how war was waged. It appeared that Duke Roger didn't share his sentiments. As King Roald rose to speak, Will pondered this.

"We have but one thing to add," said the King formally, "Until we have thought fully through the moral issues of our holding the right bank, which was Tusaine's until our honoured father's time, you have our royal command to defend the left bank of the river only. You may not cross, in pursuit or in seeking active battle."

At his words the commanders stirred and murmured. Will's eyes narrowed as he watched Duke Roger's smug face. The King's voice flicked out like a lash.

"We fight for the left bank only. See to it."

The lords stood and bowed as King Roald made his exit. Lord Hamrath of the King's Reach sighed heavily.

"Rest up, lads," He advised as the door clicked quietly shut, "It's going to be a long summer." He turned to Duke Roger, "Your Grace?"

Duke Roger surveyed them for a moment, then, "That is all. We ride tomorrow an hour past dawn."


All of Will's preparations had been made some days ago and he found he was left with a few spare hours before it was time to retire for bed. He sought the now familiar path that led to the forest clearing where he and Faithful had conversed when he'd just arrived at the capital.

He sat on the smooth stone of the boulder, watching the sky warm from a cool blue to the richer shades of pink and red as the sun melted down lower in the sky. The first stars began to appear and Will wondered briefly if one of them belonged to his own world. Then, with a small shrug he turned his gaze away from the ethereal ceiling and fixed it upon a small clump of bushes.

He was not disappointed. There was a short pause, and then the sound of soft swearing began to drift out from behind a patch of prickly undergrowth.

"Hello, Alan," the Old One called and his red headed friend popped out from behind the bushes.

Alanna had the good grace to look embarrassed as she faced Will.

"I'm sorry," She began guiltily, "I saw you leave the Palace and I wanted to talk to you, so I followed, thinking I'd catch up quickly…"

Her voice trailed off and she looked nervously at Will. The Old One smiled and indicated with a gesture to come sit by him.

"Don't worry," He said, "I found this clearing just after I arrived here. I got lost exploring the grounds and came across it. It really is peaceful. I find it helps me sort out my thoughts." He looked sharply over at Alanna, who looked down at her booted feet.

More gently, Will asked, "Alan, why don't you trust the Duke?"

She gave a small start and glanced quickly up at him.

"Who told you that?" She hedged cautiously.

"No one," replied Will, "but then again, no one needed to. I've seen you around him and heard how you talk of him. He makes you nervous. He's handsome and charming – a court favourite for sure, yet being around him seems to set you on edge. We ride out tomorrow not just to defend the Drell River, but Prince Jonathan. Why do I get the feeling that you think that the Prince might be in danger, and its source lies closer than just across the river?"

Alanna opened her mouth to speak, then decided otherwise. She was unprepared for this frank appraisal of her feelings towards the Duke of Conté. She considered telling him that she thought him crazy, that only a fool wouldn't be enamoured with the Princes charming, talented cousin. Then., she remembered the Goddess' words to her: she must learn to trust the Old One. The hair on the nape of her neck rose as she peered around at the clearing, dappled with the lengthening shadows of the surrounding trees. Rowan trees. The trees claimed by the Goddess as her own.

Will didn't look old, not old enough to be an 'Old One', but…something clicked into place inside Alanna and that decided her. She told him of her suspicions. Of the Sweating Sickness, of the Black City, and of how Duke Roger would benefit if Jon were to suddenly have an accident. All throughout her explanation Will remained silent, his eyes wise and thoughtful. Perhaps he is Old after all, Alanna thought briefly, before dismissing the thought as silliness. Still, he did not immediately laugh, or get angry as Jon did, nor did he denounce her immediately as a traitor or just jealous.

She paused, almost breathlessly, having run out of words and anxious to hear what her friend thought of her fears. Will was silent for a moment; he rested the tips of his splayed fingers on this lips and pursed them consideringly. When he spoke, his words were not those that Alanna had expected.

"I can see why that would make you uncomfortable around the Duke," Will said mildly.

Alanna stared at him unbelievingly, "Uncomfortable? I'm never more uncomfortable than when I'm around that snake of a man. How c—"

"I share your suspicions," Will cut her off swiftly, "But I can't tell you why – not now and not soon. Eventually, I will explain everything…"

Violet eyes met those as deep and grey as a northern sea.

"Please," Will said seriously, "I need you to trust me. To trust that I will do everything I can to stop Duke Roger and what you fear, even if I can't tell you exactly what I'm doing, exactly what I think. Please, trust me."

Alanna's eyes widened, "Who are you?" She asked softly.

Will cast his eyes downward and gave a choked laugh, "I am what I was born to be."

When he looked up, Alanna read in his eyes an agelessness that frightened her. It was incongruent with her friend's light, young face. The Goddess' voice floated through her thoughts: Old One.

"I will trust you," Alanna replied, the hair on her neck rising. Their locked gazes broke and Alanna stirred, looking up at the darkening sky.

"We should back," She said softly.

"Yes," Will replied, his eyes normal again. "Let's go. We've got a long day of travelling ahead of us."

They silently made their way back to the Palace and at the hallway where their paths diverged Will placed a hand on Alanna's arm.

She turned back to him.

"Thanks," was all he said before releasing her sleeve and walking down the stone corridor that led to his own quarters.


After that followed twelve dusty days of travel eastward towards the Drell River Valley. When they finally reached their destination, Gary dropped back to ride beside his squire.

"Look, Will," He said, standing up in his stirrups and pointing, "Across the River."

Will lifted himself up as well and across the river a myriad of tents and thousands of men in Tusaine colours could be seen swarming about their main encampment. Before the Tortallan column Fort Dress rose up and beyond that a thin sliver of silver could be seen between the trees.

"The Drell River Falls," Will heard Alanna say from beside him. "Our new home."

In response, Alanna's black cat Faithful yowled from his saddle cup.

They had arrived.


A/N: Another chapter, another six months. Who knows, maybe it'll be a bit quicker next time…

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