One of a Kind

Disclaimer: Don't own it, so don't sue.

A/N: Nothing much to say here, really, except this'll have a couple of Thom scenes in it. Oh, and I base my characters (at least in looks) on either a real person or a few different ppl, so Shannyn looks like Jocelyn's maid in a knights tale, only shorter.

Chapter thirteen: War

That summer, not long after Prince Jonathan's nineteenth birthday, rumours of unrest on Tortall's eastern border began to spread through the city. Farmer's came to Corus to bring claims before the king of bandits attacking isolated homes and pillaging villages, but, though suspect, none of these so-called 'bandits' could be traced back to the Tusaine king or his family, so an uneasy peace was maintained, until Tusaine sent a delegation to Tortall at the request of King Roald, and the first blows were exchanged between the nobles of the two kingdoms....

The battlefront. Alanna sighed, tossing the letter into a small chest on her desk along with dozens of others. Thom - her twin, her bookish, magically inclined, completely useless at anything physical, let alone at fighting brother - was at the battlefront of the current war between Tortall and Tusaine with his knight master.

He had been conserving his magic in case it was needed for something truly important, and Alanna, who had, though somewhat reluctantly, begun to use her magic again after healing the Unicorn's near-fatal wound, would still only use her Gift sparingly and only for healing, so they were still communicating by letter rather than by fire, as Thom preferred.

She thought of his words again ... at least the king decided that Jon needed an experienced advisor along on his first battle command, so Myles and I are here with him, and to keep an eye on his Grace...

"Something wrong, Alanna?"

Shannyn was standing next to her, a slightly worried frown creasing her brow.  Alanna shook her head. "No. Just," she paused, trying to think of a way to explain her myriad of fears to her friend. "I'm a little worried about Thom, that's all."

The girl nodded, and sat down, beginning to sew up a tear in one of Alanna's shirts with deft effiency. "Oh Shannyn - did I tear another one?"

Shannyn glanced up at Alanna's apologetic tone. "Don't worry, milady - my little brothers tore their clothes far more often and with less excuse than you have." At the toll of the bell that signified an hour to midnight, she stood up abruptly. "You should go to bed, milady - it's late."

Alanna groaned. "Please don't call me "milady," Shannyn - you're one of my oldest friends, after all."

Shannyn gave one of her rare, sweet smiles. The same age as Alanna, with dark hair and eyes, and a dusky complexion that gave away the hint of carthakan blood in her, and almost as tiny as Alanna, the girl resembled a doe, with a shyness of nature to match.

"Then you should go to bed, Alanna, or fear the wrath of the Dragon."

Alanna grinned. "Thank you, Shannyn. That's more like it."

***

More injured, more dying. Thom clenched his jaw and tried to ignore the smell, and the sound of the cart come to take the fallen soldiers to their grave. The fighting in the last skirmish had been bloody, with many deaths and injuries on both sides - and Thom couldn't help but be suspicious that the Duke had called Jon to a private conference, but had been called away further down the river, leaving Jon in charge shortly before the attack - and he wasn't the only one to think it strange. However, neither he nor Myles had been there that day, and there was no way they could prove that the messenger had not come from the Baron who was commanding at the post, or that if it had not, they had been induced by Roger to claim they were.

Frustration and a desperation to be somewhere, doing something that he was good at, and could help take his mind off his suspicions had driven him to the healer's tents, and Duke Baird had been only too glad of the extra set of helping hands - especially when they were hands as powerful as Thom's.

***

There had been no attacks for the last two days, and relieved or guardsman's duty, and of those of a healer, Thom had nothing left to do but wander round the camp, finally coming full circle to Myles', his, and Jon's and Douglass's tents, set close together so that Jon could consult Myles, and so both were close to their squires.

Douglass was sitting next to the empty fireplace in the semi-circle of tents, and Thom sat down next to him. He jerked his head towards Jon's tent. "Has anything happened I should know about?"

Douglass shrugged. "Don't think so. We just got back from upriver, but nothing's happened there unless you count Raoul re-reading the latest letter from lady Tatiana for the millionth time, and writing about a million drafts of a letter back." Thom grinned. Raoul and Tat's parting had been rather passionate by anyone's standard's - and public, in front of most of the first force of knights King Roald had sent.

"Jon and Myles are his tent now, plotting something, but I have no idea what - they won't tell me a thing." Douglass continued.

Thom shrugged. "What they'll do if a Tusaine attack comes from behind the waterfall, probably. Gods I'm bored - let's go do something."

As it turned out, there was nothing much to do, so they settled for wandering in the edges of the wood, skipping rocks on a small stream that broke away from the river, as fifteen year old boys tend to do in times of boredom when body of water and rocks are handy.

The sun was just beginning to set when Douglass froze in the act of throwing a particularly good pebble. "Did you hear that?"

Thom shook his head. "No - I'll check around, though."

Thom closed his eyes, reaching into that special corner of his gift that allowed him to know people's minds. He had discovered a year or two ago that it also meant he could tell when others were near, and it proved useful now. His eyes flew open, staring at Douglass. "A party of Tusaine soldiers just crossed the river."

Douglass swore. "Let's go then."

***

Once Thom and Douglass had raised the alarm, it took what seemed like only a few moments for the entire camp to assemble in fighting order. Thom was wearing a mail shirt his sister had given him for their last birthday - you'll need it, if you're to be a knight  - and leather leggings, along with his sword, from the Trebond armoury. One of the few advantages of smallness being a family trait was that things like armour and swords that had been specially made for other members of the family could be used more easily than if it had been made for other, larger people - as it usually had.

Jon was at the head of the force, and Thom felt a prickle of unease at seeing his friend in so vulnerable a position, then realised he best worry about his own as an arrow thudded into his shield. This war has dragged on for far too long, Thom thought, sending a bolt of violet fire at his assailant and drawing his sword - he wasn't much good with it, but at least he knew which end was which, and if you swing a sharp bit of metal a group of people who're your enemies, you're bound to be able to wound someone eventually.

There was a cry, louder than the other's and Thom turned in time to see Jon slump forward in his saddle, an arrow protruding from his left shoulder. Thom felt sick. He had spelled Jon's mail, rendering it virtually unbreakable, and the only sort of arrow that could do that was one with a tip small enough to get through the links - and that sort were barbed.

With a cry to Myles, Thom used his magic to push people aside from his path, deflecting yet more arrows as he and Douglass manoeuvred Darkness, with the unconscious prince slumped across his neck, out of the crowd. The faint greenish tinge as Thom burnt up another arrow was almost enough to make him faint - they were poisoned.

***

"He'll live?"

Duke Baird nodded. "Yes, he'll live, although he'll be in no condition to fight for some time yet. As soon as he's stable enough I'm having a carriage take him back to Corus - a war zone is no place for an injured heir."

Myles nodded gravely at Baird's pronouncement, and drew Thom aside as the healer hurried off to another patient.

"Thom," he began, "when Jonathon goes back to Corus, I want you to go too. Those arrows weren't meant for just anyone, and there should be a mage there as well as Douglass and a few foot soldiers, should Duke Hilam try again."

Thom frowned. "Don't you mean King Ain?"

Myles smiled at little, in spite of the situation. "No - Duke Hilam is the king's brother, and the one who organised this, and is commanding the Tusaine army. Ain doesn't have the ambition to want to go to war over the valley - he's one of those nobles who just likes to lie around with wine on hand and a few pretty women around."

Thom nodded. "Why didn't you tell me this before?"

"I assumed you'd learnt it in one of your other classes - but I really should know enough by now to know never to assume anything. In any case, I want you with Jon - Hilam and his brother - the younger one - are too ambitious for their own good - they wouldn't baulk at the idea of killing Roald's heir if they thought they might get a big enough piece of Tortall to become part of Tusaine in the ensuing war."

Thom had no answer to this, but his thought were whirling on the trip back to their campsite.

***

Roger had, looking every bit the concerned older cousin, used his Gift to inform the king and queen of Jonathon's injury, so by the time they got back to the Corus, weary from keeping a constant watch over the prince, they were met by a company of the King's Own, and were only to happy to hand over the unconscious prince.

Once inside the palace, they were met by an almost frantic Queen Lianne, and a grave looking king, who walked beside their son to the palace infirmary. He gestured to Thom and Douglass to walk beside him questioning them quietly enough that the queen, who was on the other side of Jon's stretcher wouldn't hear him.

"Where is Sir Myles?"

Thom fielded that question. "He remained at the river until such time as you could send a replacement commander for J - for his Highness, Majesty. But he wanted me to come back with his Highness in case there was - something that required the attentions of a mage."

Roald nodded. "I understand that you both got him out of the fighting after he was hit?"

"Yes," said both of them, glancing at each other.

"Good," he said briskly. "There will be a council this afternoon at which I shall require you both to be present."

***

Alanna walked down the hall towards the First Daughter's rooms, wondering what had happened that the First Daughter wished to see her. The priestess guarding the door nodded briefly to her, then opened the door, gesturing her in.

The First Daughter, seated at her desk, glanced up as she entered. "Ah, Alanna. Do sit down, child."

Alanna sat, and Faithful jumped from his position on her shoulder to prowl around the First Daughter's desk, finally settling down in front of the First Daughter, who reached down absentmindedly to scratch his belly gently as she studied Alanna.

"Um - why did you call me here, First Daughter?" Alanna asked, hoping to get it over with, thinking whatever it was was probably bad.

The First Daughter smiled gently. "Nothing bad, Alanna." and Alanna bit the inside of her lip, cursing herself for forgetting that the First Daughter could read thoughts as easily as a book if she wished to, and if the person involved didn't block her.

"I didn't have to want to, Alanna. You were thinking very loudly. But that is not what I brought you here for."

Alanna frowned. What have I done now?

"I brought you here, because I wished to give you something. This belonged to me, when I was young. A priest of the smith god gave it to me, telling me his god had sent him a dream in which he had instructed him to make it, and then give it to me on behalf of She Who Rules Us All. I have no further use for it, but I feel that you, as another of the Goddess's chosen, would have use for it."

Reaching down, she lifted a sword from where it was resting in her lap, and handed it to Alanna.

It's black enamelled hilt was twined around with silver in a delicate vine that extended down and flowered into a wide filigree dome at the base, with a slim, deadly looking blade etched lightly with pale silver runes Alanna recognised from various temples, but couldn't read, but could only guess were some sort spell against breakage or for protection for the bearer. The hilt was made from a similar design to that on the hilt, black but for an inverted v of vines around the top.

"Thank you." she whispered. The sword fit her hand perfectly, with a weight to match.

"Use it well, Alanna. Now go, my child."

***

Alanna spun, thrusting her new sword into the empty air, paused a second, and lowered it, grinning at having completed the complicated dance without a mistake.

Re-sheathing it, she crossed to the bench where she had dropped towel and water, and took a deep draught, her grin fading as her worries returned. She had been on edge all day, without the faintest idea why, and had finally resorted to exercising to her limit, in an effort to calm herself down.

What's up with me, Faithful? She asked her cat. Communicating via her thoughts was so often her normal form of communication to her cat, it was second nature.

Why don't you ask your brother ... you've felt what he was feeling before now.

Alanna shook her head. The only way would be with fire, and that would only work if Thom was near one.

You've communicated over a distance without fire to him before now. Use your link.

Alanna stared at the cat, wondering what he meant. Then it dawned on her ... she could tell Faithful what she wanted to say by thinking at him, and when they had healed the prince, Thom had called out to her - why shouldn't she be able to think at Thom.

She stared at Faithful. Can I do it?

Nothing to lose by trying, is there?

Why can't you ever give me a strait answer?

Because I'm a cat ... I'm meant to be mysterious.

Muttering about the kitten's insufferable haughtiness, she sat down, closing her eyes for concentration. Reaching for the link, she bit her lip nervously.

Thom? Thom, can you hear me?

***

Thom was sitting at the council table with his head bowed and eyes closed, as around him, the king's council debated their response to the threat on Jon's life.

Thom? Thom, can you hear me?

His head jerked up, eyes flying open. That voice ... he had been sure it was Alanna, so clear in his ears that he'd thought for a second that somehow she was there and standing next to him.

Thom?

He frowned, reaching for his magic. What sort of spell was this? The link between his and Alanna's magic's seemed to be, well - vibrating. Was this the source?

Thom?

This time he felt it come through the link to him. Tentatively - Alanna?

Thom! What's happening?

I have no idea ... did you do this?

Yes, Faithful told me how. Has something happened where you are? I've been on edge all day but I don't know why. Does it have something to do with you?

Thom frowned. If the link could be used to speak into each other's thoughts, why couldn't Alanna have been feeling what he felt?

It might be. Jon - Jon was injured at Drell, and I've been worried. That's probably it. I'm in at a council meeting now.

Why?

I saw it.

I'd better go then - his Grace isn't there, is he?

No, thank Mithros. I wouldn't want him to know about this.

And then, as suddenly as she had been there, she was gone.

"Squire Thom?"

He jumped. "Yes, your Majesty?"

"The healers wish to know if you have an arrow left, to identify the poison with.

Taking a deep breath to calm his nerves, Thom reached into the small bag he carried, pulling out the wrapped arrow he had saved if it was needed, and placed it on the council table.

The council was dismissed shortly after that, and as he walked out, Thom wished more than ever for midwinter, when Alanna would, he hoped, be arriving at court, and there with him.

A/N: The next chapter's going to be Alanna's arrival at court, but never fear, she shall not be falling in love with anyone for quite a while yet. I have some idea of her going to Drell and the war there in chapters yet to come, as the Dragon's apprentice, but I'm not sure how our heroine should save the day exactly - any ideas? Review and tell me what you think, pleeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaase?

Aranel