Author's Note: Again, I invite you to check out Goldenlake, a Tamora Pierce forum. You can find a link in my profile.

Developing Problems
By: youdontneedtoknow

Chapter 14: Nighttime Visitations

A cloaked man stumbled into the Dancing Dove as the small clock that Solom kept above his bar cooed like a dove. Once, twice—the hour was two after midnight, and Solom was ready to go to bed for the night. He could smell the alcohol on the man's breath even before he sat down at the bar in front of him. He winced slightly. Getting a drunk out of the bar this late would be an irritating task, one that might even require him to rouse a few rogues from their beauty sleep.

He sighed. "What can I do for ye? This old man needs t' go abed soon."

"Solom," the man croaked. "Where's George?"

Solom peered into the man's face, trying to see past the shadow that the cloak cast. "Johnny?" he asked in disbelief. "What have ye gotten yerself into at this hour?"

"Please, Solom," he said. "I need George."

Solom shook his head. "His Majesty is out right now," he told the man. "But he shant be gone much longer."

"Thass okay then," the man slurred. "I'll wait right here."

Solom shrugged. "Suit yerself, lad, but I'll be goin' t' bed. Mind ye keep yerself away from the drink for the rest of the night—ye've had quite enough."

He didn't answer.

Solom didn't usually let drunks sleep in the bar, George knew, so he couldn't ignore the slumped figure that was resting its cloaked head on the countertop. George approached the man, gingerly tapping him on the shoulder with one hand, while the other fingered the dagger at his belt. The man moaned softly, stirring.

"Wake up," George said, now shaking him gently.

"George," the man moaned, and began to sit up.

"Yes?" George asked, helping the man to his feet. He drew a quick breath as he recognized the man, whispering, "Jonathan?"

Jonathan mumbled incoherently, rubbing his eyes. "George… how could he?"

George cursed softly. "C'mon, come up to my room," he said. "It's safer."

He led him up to his room, and helped Jonathan into a chair.

It took a few minutes and a glass of water for Jonathan to fully awaken, but when he did, George could see that the prince was the drunkest he had ever seen him.

George sighed. He turned to the desk behind him and opened a drawer, pulling out a small amulet.

"This was an expensive gift, so I'd be grateful if you'd make it up to me, since it's only got a few uses out of it before I have to get it spelled again," George said. He pressed the stone against Jonathan's forehead for a moment. Jonathan gasped and shuddered.

"Never used it for a drunk before," George said, smiling slightly, "but I suppose there's a first time for everythin'. It's used to clear a man's head and enhance his thinkin' ability. Did it work?"

Jon nodded. "I'm… I'm sorry George. I don't know what I was thinking."

George leaned back on his desk. "I know what you were thinkin'," he said. "I had a few of the same thoughts when I found out our young friend's secret only a few years back."

"George, how could he?" Jon cried. "How could he keep something like this from me? Why didn't he trust me?"

"Say 'she,' Jon, or you'll never get used to it. Alanna didn't like lyin' to you. She was plannin' on tellin' you soon," George said, crossing his broad arms. "No one at the palace knew her secret until a few weeks ago, and me and my mother were only told out of necessity."

"Who at the palace knew?" Jon asked, looking up. "Who did she trust more than me?"

George smiled wanly. "No one, Jon," he said. "Duke Baird suspected as much after you went to him about an injury of hers, and was pressurin' her to tell her secret soon." George shook his head. "Jon, this is a conversation you should be havin' with Alanna herself."

Jon pretended not to hear him. "And the treason! Mithros!" he said, holding his head in his hands as he stared at the floor. "Why on earth would Roger accuse him… her… of that? How did Alanna hurt him so bad? She didn't mean to, did she?"

George stared at him pointedly. "Why would a man so close to the throne be tryin' to eliminate those closest to the royal family?"

Jon looked up. "George, he's my cousin. Roger is a part of the royal family."

George shook his head and sighed. "Jonathan, what would a young rogue who is tryin' to become King of the Rogues do to get that position?"

"He'd challenge you. To your face," Jon said, holding George's gaze.

"Or he'd gather up support from other rogues and get my supporters away from me, try to catch me alone."

Jon looked at him. "No, George." He shook his head. "It's not like that."

"Then what is it like, Jon?"

Jonathan looked away. "I don't know. There's been a misunderstanding."

George held out a hand to Jon and pulled him to his feet.

"Don't let yourself be caught alone, Jonathan."

With George's assistance, Jonathan found himself safely back at the palace. He found his own way to the dungeons, buying the silence of the late night guard with a gold noble. The guard bowed to him sleepily and led him to Alanna's cell, unlocking it as he whispered for the prince to be quiet. Jon nodded and stepped into the cell.

"Wake up, Alanna," Jon said quietly, squinting at the figure that leaned against the wall.

"I'm already awake," Alanna whispered.

"Oh," Jon said. He scratched his head and leaned out of the cell. "Do you have a spare candle?" he asked the guard. The guard, already falling asleep, jolted back awake and jabbed a hand toward a bucket near the wall. "Thanks," Jon said, and grabbed a candle from it. He called fire to the candle and stepped back into Alanna's cell.

"Sorry," he said.

"It's fine," Alanna said.

Jon leaned up against the wall and slid down so that he was sitting next to her.

"Why didn't you ever tell me?" he asked. "After all these years, you didn't trust me?"

"Jon, I couldn't!" Alanna said. "I didn't want to tell anyone—I only told George because I had… I had a problem that I needed help with and I couldn't go to anyone in the palace about it."

"But I'm your knightmaster! Your friend! You thought I would turn my back on you?" His voice cracked.

Alanna sighed. "Jon, no. Please, it had nothing to do with you. I didn't want to put my secret on you too. What if you slipped up and said something on accident?"

"I wouldn't have," Jonathan said. "Not for something so important."

"Things happen," Alanna said. "Besides, I was going to tell you soon. Duke Baird found out and he was going to make me tell you, and everyone else, too."

"I don't like how telling me would have been out of force, and I don't like that I had to find out this way," Jon said.

"Please, Jon," Alanna said, turning to look at his face. "Jon, I just wanted to earn my shield. I didn't want to complicate things."

Jon was staring at the candle, not looking at her.

"So did you try to kill my cousin?" he asked.

"Mithros, no!" Alanna exclaimed. "He challenged me to a practice duel, Jon. He… there was an accident. It was in defense that I stabbed him. He cut me first, only…" she stopped.

"What?" Jon asked.

"You won't believe me," she said.

"Try me."

"He hurt me bad, Jon. It was a deep cut."

"You don't seem hurt," Jon said.

"The Goddess intervened," Alanna told him. "She's come to me before, and she came to me in the middle of the duel and healed me. She said that my death would throw off the kingdom's balance, and she made my wound go away." Alanna lifted her tunic—Raoul's tunic—up, revealing a long, raised scar from where Roger had slashed her with his sword. "See, there's a scar right here," she said.

Jon turned to her and examined her side by the light of the candle.

"He told me he was going to kill me," she said quietly. "He told me he was after the throne."

Jon sighed. "George said as much," he told her, now looking back at the candle clasped in his hands. Alanna could see how tight he gripped it, his knuckles white.

"There must be a misunderstanding," Jon said. "Roger wouldn't try to kill me. He's happy with his life—he likes being a sorcerer and a duke."

"Then why am I locked in this cell, Jonathan?" Alanna asked through clenched teeth.

Jon looked at her. "Maybe he was just angry that you're a girl?" he asked. "How did he find out, anyway?"

"I don't know," Alanna said angrily. "I didn't tell him!"

"Sorry," Jon said, looking away. He stood up.

"Going now?" Alanna asked.

Jon nodded. His lip trembled, and for a moment Alanna thought she saw the glisten of a tear in his eye. "Alan—Alanna, I mean… I believe you. I believe that you didn't mean to hurt Roger, and I believe that you are here just to earn your shield. I'll say as much at your trial tomorrow. But about Roger—you're wrong. He loves me, in his way. He'd never try to hurt me. He probably thought he was protecting me from you. I'll talk tomorrow and say what needs to be said. I'm sure we can clear this up."

Alanna looked at him in disbelief. "Jonathan, he told me he wanted to kill you!"

"Don't," Jonathan said. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"This was not supposed to happen."

"I know, Alex."

"She was supposed to die."

"Yes."

"You were supposed to kill her in self defense. You were supposed to tell her you knew her secret, and we would tell them that she had attempted to kill you."

"Do not think I have not planned for this."

"Your plans may go wrong again, Roger! Your magic kept people from coming to the practice courts during the duel—what if it had kept them away when you were injured and needed help? Just let me finish her off!"

"Alex, please be patient. Her death will come shortly, and you will be bothered no more by her existence."

"But what if she is not convicted?"

"She will still die, Alex, mark my words."

Roger fiddled with something small in his hands, a round crystal. The best gem cutters in Tortall must have been responsible for its creation; it resembled a diamond. The many-faceted surface caught the morning light that trickled from the dusty window of Roger's room, reflecting a small rainbow on the stone walls.

Roger smiled. "It has already been taken care of."