Disclaimer: Nothing recognisable from any part of any book written about Tortall belongs to me. If you don't recognise it, it's mine, or a if it's a person who I know who I inserted into Tortall, they belong to themself. There. Short and Sweet. But slowly Getting Longer. I'll stop now. (really, I will.)
Chapter Ten : Orphans
"And, one and two, three and four, five, six, seven next partner." Alanna whirled, concentrating so intently on the intricate steps of the new dance that she didn't realise who her next partner was until they were face to face.
"Well, Lady Alanna, it seems we meet again." were Delia's words, as her hand closed around Alanna's, tightening painfully.
"We do indeed, Lady Delia." Alanna replied, returning the squeeze - much harder. Alanna wasn't the Shang Dragon's (unofficial) apprentice for nothing, and Delia was forced to bit back a yelp of pain. "Are you enjoying playing the role of a lord? It should give you quite the inside edge in your pursuit of your conquests."
Alanna spun away again from Delia, smirking at the expression on the older girl's face. It was a well-known fact at the convent that Delia hated that she was always given the man's part of a dance in their classes, because of her height and the speed at which she picked up the steps of the dance.
Alanna, on the other hand, was always given the lady's part - a good thing, she admitted wryly to herself, since she needed all the practise she could get to master the dances. Not so much because of the intricacy - the weapon's and unarmed martial dances Liam taught her were far more complicated, and always more physically demanding than the steps and dances she learnt in her lessons at the convent - but because she found the slow formality of them so boring, it was hard to pay attention long enough to learn them.
"Nice," Tat commented as they changed partners again. Like Delia, Tat's height ensured that she was dancing the part of a lord, but unlike Delia, Tat didn't care. "We'll make a diplomat of you yet, if someone can figure out a way to get you to use that clever tongue of yours to murmur pleasantries rather than insults."
"Polite lies, you mean. Meant to stoke the already over-inflated ego of whatever pompous dignitary you happen to be speaking to."
"It happens everywhere in life, 'Lana, not just at court. You may as well get used to it." Alanna's only reply to Tat's last comment was a snort, and the older girl sighed inwardly at her young friend's naivety and idealism. Alanna could understand rudeness and violence, but the girl couldn't - or wouldn't - comprehend dishonesty. It just seemed to go against her grain.
The bell rang, and Alanna sighed in relief that this would be the last dance lesson she would have to undergo for the next week. The week of midwinter was set aside for festivities and religious ceremonies, which meant no classes in anything. She would still be training with Liam though. Nothing came in the way of that.
Walking down the hall to the dining rooms with Tat and Rhia, her thoughts turned to Thom, and the betrothal between him and her friend. Rhiannon had told her first, having had the information in a letter from her mother, Baroness Amanda. Soon after that, she had had a letter from Thom, also informing her of the betrothal, which raged on about their father's inconsiderate high-handedness, before Thom's inevitable curiosity (one of the several character traits he shared with Alanna,) got the better of him and he asked her about Rhiannon.
Alanna had obliged, sending back a letter full of information about what her friend was like, and most importantly to Alanna's mind, what Rhiannon (not to mention Alanna) thought of the betrothal.
The letter had also contained some rather scathing questions about what exactly he had done to cause her to experience the nightmares concerning him that had started bare days before his letter had arrived.
Only they hadn't been simple nightmares, Alanna knew, because they had also involved a young man she recognised as Prince Jonathon, from when she had cured him of the Sweating Sickness, although he was several years older now, and two others who Alanna had had described in enough detail by Thom to recognise as Raoul of Goldenlake and Malorie's peak, and Gareth of Naxen, all fighting incredibly tall, impossibly strange people in a back temple. Alanna had been terrified about her twin, but realised that if the event had happened in the past, than Thom must be alright, since he had sent her the letter.
Thom had sent back an somewhat embarrassed-sounding letter about how they had gone to the black city of the Bahzir, and explained that since he had been having the same nightmares, they must have been coming to her through the magical link between them, and Alanna wrote back that he was supposed to be the sensible one, and what on earth had been thinking.
She had been about to send another one after it, when Tat had pointed out that it was rather ridiculous having an argument by letter, and that if she felt so strongly about it, then why not simply contact him through the fire to make her point?
Of course, at that point Alanna decided to drop the subject, and had henceforth did not mention it.
Thom would be undergoing his exams to become a squire now, Alanna thought somewhat wistfully. She was happy as Liam's apprentice, but she had yet to win the approval of the Shang council to undergo the Shang Ordeal when Liam deemed her ready, something she often worried about. Of course, they had not rejected her, but what would happen when the next council was called and Liam brought her before them was uncertain.
***
"Thom of Trebond." Thom closed his eyes and let out a little sigh of relief, before getting up to join Geoffrey and Douglass, and the others, at the squires' table. He had been secretly afraid he would fail the tests, since while his class work was excellent, his physical abilities in the practise courts still left much to be desired.
He wouldn't officially be someone's squire until after Midwinter, when all of the current fourth-year squires had undergone their Ordeal's and were - most of them - knights.
He glanced over to Jon, who would be undergoing a period of contemplation that night, before undergoing his Ordeal the next morning. He was pale and this would be the last time Thom would see him until he came out of the chamber of the Ordeal the next morning, since he would be sleeping - or trying to - for the rest of the day, to help him keep awake that night.
As they all got up to leave the hall, Thom made his way through the crowd to Jon, and the others.
Reaching up to grab his taller friend by the shoulder, Thom looked him full in the face. "Hey." he said. "Good luck."
Jon smiled wanly. "Thanks, Thom."
***
Thom stood nervously next to his friends, waiting. The last few minutes of the hour a knight-to-be spent in the chamber seemed to stretch on endlessly as they waited, with most of court, for the priests to pull back the bolts on the iron doors and let Jon out.
Watching them, Thom saw one nod to the other, and, like mirror images, they moved forward and unbolted the doors, and Jon stumbled out of the inky blackness behind them, as they rushed forward to help him. Thom had never seen someone fresh from the chamber before, and was shocked. Jon looked as if had died in there, and the staring blankness of his brilliant eyes terrified him.
Then his eyes re-focused, and the emptiness in them decreased somewhat as he saw them all.
"I made it." he whispered hoarsely, and allowed them to help him up to his new rooms.
Later, as the crowd cheered, Thom frowned, looking for his father. Lord Alan generally shunned court life, but Thom thought he would have come for the knighting of the Heir, at least. Shrugging, he turned his attention back to Jon, who was grinning as his father, beaming with pride, fastened a shield adorned with the Conte lion to Jon's left arm. If his father chose not to come, Thom wasn't going to complain - it wasn't as if her got on with his father in any case.
***
Nervously smoothing his scarlet tunic, Thom stood in front of the throne in the war chamber. This was traditionally where squires were chosen by their knight-master's from among the knights of Tortall who chose to attend.
"Geoffrey of Meron."
Geoffrey stepped forward, and King Roald made the traditional request for one his knights to step forward and proclaim their willingness to be his knight-master. Raoul stood up, and announced that he was willing, and Geoffrey went to stand by him, Raoul handing him a pin with his personal emblem on it as he did.
The herald read out Douglass's name, and there was a stir amongst the knights sitting there as Jonathon stood up - this was who the prince intended to be his squire. Jon recited the traditional oath, and Douglass walked up to stand slightly behind his chair.
"Thom of Trebond."
Sir Myles stood up, and Thom permitted himself a small sigh of relief - a desk knight like Sir Myles wouldn't expect him to fight that well, and he would actually be useful to Sir Myles. Reaching his new knight-master, Thom took his badge from Sir Myles, and attached the blue-and-white enamelled pin to his tunic.
***
The servant bowed, and approached Sir Myles. He whispered something to the older man, whose expression became grave, bowed again, and left.
Sir Myles cleared his throat. "Squire Thom, the Duke requires you to report to his office immediately."
Thom gathered his books, and, getting up, wondered what could be so urgent that the Duke would pull him out of class rather than wait until the evening.
Knocking on the door to the Duke's study, he entered.
Sir Gareth the elder of Naxen glanced up. "Ah, Thom. Do sit down."
Thom sat.
"I have received a letter from Trebond just now, Thom. It's contents - well," he handed Thom a piece of parchment headed with the Trebond emblem. "I deeply regret that I must be the one to inform you that your father is dead."
Thom froze. "Dead?"
The Duke nodded. "Preparations are being untaken for his funeral, I understand. It is requested that you leave immediately for Trebond for the - ceremonies."
Thom nodded, his throat tight. Standing, he collected his books, bowed to duke, and left, walking faster than usual to his rooms adjoining Myles'.
Coram looked up as he shut the door behind him.
"Lad, I was told to come here. What's wrong?"
Wordlessly, Thom handed him the letter, then went to his dressing room, pulling out his saddlebags to begin packing. Coram came in, saying nothing but gave Thom's shoulder a reassuring squeeze with his firm grip, and helped him pack.
***
"A priest from the City of the Gods is making his way here as we speak, who will travel with you to perform the necessary ceremonies at you father's funeral. I am sorry for your loss, Alanna."
Alanna looked down at her hands, fighting unexpected tears for her father.
"Go now, the carriage will be here shortly."
Alanna nodded, and the First Daughter thought it was a sign more telling than words of how shocked Alanna was that she didn't protest at the thought of riding to Trebond in a carriage.
"Alanna." Tat ran up, while Rhiannon followed a slightly slower pace.
"What's wrong? When the First Daughter summoned you, and then we heard the carriage - "
"My father's dead."
Tat's eyes widened and she hugged Alanna sympathetically, thankfully saying nothing. Behind her, Maude climbed into the carriage, and Rhiannon hugged her too, quickly, before the driver handed her up into the carriage.
Liam, who was coming to Trebond with them, climbed into the saddle of his horse, tying Luna's lead rope onto Flame's (his horse) pommel.
Alanna leaned back into the seat, and the carriage rolled away.
***
" My lord. Lord Thom." startled, Thom glanced up at the servant, not yet used to being the lord of Trebond. "My lord," the man said again. "The steward wishes you to know that your sister will be arriving shortly."
Thom practically leapt out of his seat, bolting down the stairs in his excitement as he realised that this would be the first time he had seen his sister in four years.
A carriage rolled to a stop in the courtyard just as he arrived, panting hard.
The driver - a man in the livery of a servant of the priests of the black god - jumped down from his seat, and opened the door, as a man dressed in a long, black robe with a cowled hood stepped out, his eyes travelling over the crowd assembled until they came to a rest on Thom.
Maude exited the carriage next, slightly plumper but otherwise unchanged from when Thom had last seen her as a ten year old leaving Trebond for Corus.
The driver reached his hand out to hand down the young lady who stepped out last.
Wearing a black velvet dress, and a black veil that hid her face and hair, Thom didn't recognise her at first.
Scanning the courtyard as the priest had done earlier, the image of the demure noble lady disappeared the moment she laid eyes upon him, flying across the courtyard to engulf him in a hug.
Thom returned the hug, then flipped up the veil. "That you, Alanna?" he teased.
She stepped back. "Who else?"
He shrugged. "I didn't recognise you in the whole lady get-up." he said flippantly, and then brief joyful mood disappeared as quickly as it had come.
Glancing up, Thom saw a tall, green eyed man with hair the same shade as his own behind them.
Alanna looked up to, and introduced them. "Thom, this is my Shang master, Liam. Liam, this is my brother, Thom." Liam bowed, murmuring consolation for his father's death.
***
The day after the funeral, Alanna, who had been stuck in the castle for the last three days, helping her brother, and Coram and Maude, who would be staying behind to manage things when they left, decided she wanted to go riding, and announced this to Thom, who, surprisingly, said he would like to come. About to leave her room, clad in grey hose and a muted green tunic over a shirt of the same grey, she paused, and, impulsively, picked up her quiver and bow, which were beside the door.
Thom was waiting in the courtyard when she arrived, with Mage and Luna, and raised an eyebrow at her weapons, but said nothing.
Alanna mounted Luna, who's coat had faded from it's original silver and gold, and was now a pure, dazzling white with faint silver streaks in her coat, and threads of gold in her mane and tail.
"Let's go," she said, and they rode out along the lowered drawbridge, then out into the forest surrounding Trebond village.
They had been riding for quite a long time when Alanna abruptly halted Luna. She glanced across at her twin. "Did you hear that?" she whispered. "Hear what?" he replied. Alanna said nothing, up simply sat, very quietly and still, with her head cocked slightly to one side. She frowned. "I definitely heard something that time. I'm going for a closer look."
Standing up in her stirrups, she reached for a low branch, blessing her small size as she scrambled lightly through the interlocking branches of the trees in this part of the forest. She glanced down at the place where she had heard the noise coming from, and caught her breath.
Men - eight of them stood or sat directly below her, bandit's by the look of them.
Making her way quietly back to Thom and the horses, she whispered this news to him, then suggested that they leave, something Thom fervently agreed with.
Manuvering Luna so that Mage could walk beside them, Alanna froze as she heard a branch crack loudly - right under Mage's hoof!
From the shouting suddenly coming from clearing where that bandits were, she wasn't the only one who had heard, either.
"Go!" she shouted at Thom, too late.
The men ran towards them, one aiming a bow at them. The arrow, flying through the air towards Alanna, dissolved in flame as Thom directed his gift at it, and all hell broke loose as they ran towards the twins, one grabbing at Alanna's boot.
Luna, well trained warhorse that she was, reared and Alanna kicked backwards with all her might at her assailant, hitting him squarely in the mouth.
Thom slashed at an opponent, and Alanna wasn't sure whether or not his wounding the man was a matter of pure luck or of Thom finally gaining some skill with a sword.
"Matti! Go back and warn th' others!" yelled one.
Others? There were more of them?
Socking a second oppenent with enough force to knock him unconcious, Alanna pulled her bow off the clip that attached it to her quiver, and set an arrow to it as Luna reared again. Busy blasting two more bandits away from him with his gift, Thom didn't see the man come up behind him, lifting a wickedly sharp looking knife to stab him in the back.
"Thom!" Alanna shrieked, letting fly with her arrow. It flew straight, burying itself deep in the man's chest, and Alanna stared as he toppled backwards, suddenly realising that she had just killed a man.
"Alanna! Alanna, come on! We have to go!"
Suddenly aware of the danger of their position, Alanna kicked Luna into a gallop, following Mage, with her brother bent low over his neck.
Still galloping up the drawbridge to the castle, Thom gasped orders to the guards, who, alarmed, sent out scouts, pulling up the drawbridge after them.
Alanna slid out of the saddle, feeling sick, and fled.
It was Liam who found her, sitting up in the battlements with her arms curled around her knees, her face tear-stained.
She looked up as the echo of his boots on the stone faded away as he crouched down in front of her, tilting her face up to look at him.
"I killed a man, Liam."
He nodded. "I see. Kitten - think on this. You may have killed someone today, but he meant to kill you and your brother, two children outnumbered two to eight. You have done yourself no dishonour to kill a man with that kind of mind in defense of yourself and of another."
He smiled slightly, and tapped her cheek lightly.
"Don't feel too guilty, although it is right that you grieve. It is when you stop feeling anything about the lives you take that you should worry."
He stood up, and Alanna stared after him as he walked slowly away, his words penetrating the wave of guilt and gried that she had been feeling, and she got up, and walked slowly down to the courtyard behind him.
When they were both standing in the courtyard, he turned around, and smiled encouragingly at her. "Good lass." he murmered.
