Disclaimer: Still not mine.
Chapter Twenty: Judgement and Freedom
Alanna winced, clapping her hands over her ears as screams echoed down the dank hall.
"Can't somebody shut her up?" Demanded Thom. The guard shrugged.
"Sorry, m'lord – she's been like that since we put her in there."
He rolled his eyes. "How in Mithros' name am I supposed to work with that racket going on?"
He looked over at Alanna, who shrugged. "Delia always was a drama queen."
"Hmmm." Was all he said.
Roger scowled at them through the bars in the door of his cell – actually an apartment fitted with bars and locks – as they came near. "So," he sneered. "It's the boy mage and the little spy come to make sure I haven't escaped, is it?"
Thom shrugged. "More or less." He closed his eyes, placing a hand on the door and reaching out the other for Alanna, the physical contact reinforcing the link between their Gifts. A more experienced mage could have done it with less power, but Thom had been mostly self-taught from the books in the palace' s magical library – somewhat limited in recent years due to Roger's influence – and as such he preferred to have Alanna there to lean on magically.
The door pulsed briefly with purple fire, threads of it flowing away through the mortar to resecure the spell the king had had them lay when Roger was first thrown into captivity, ensuring that he couldn't escape through use of either his Gift or more ordinary means.
Thom opened his eyes again. "Open the door."
The guard nodded curtly, unbuckling the heavy ring of keys he wore at his waist to unlock the door, allowing all three to step through. Roger stepped back slightly, but held his head high.
Thom nodded at the guard. "Hold him."
The guard – a burly fellow who reminded Alanna of Coram – stepped forward, seizing Roger by the arms. Thom stepped forward, reaching out to touch the metal bands around the former duke's wrists, and Alanna shuddered. This was why the king had chosen them to do this task – even apart, either of them had a Gift stronger than the former duke's – though relatively untrained. Together, they had the power to not only hold a spell around Roger's prison strong enough to hold him in should he be able to try his Gift against it, but also to place a spell in the bands that had been welded around his wrists and neck to bind his Gift. It basically worked by entangling their own Gifts around his, and it horrified Alanna to be constantly aware of Roger's Gift pushing against her own, testing it for weakness's that would not only break the spell, but her in the process.
The former duke snarled in pain and defiance, and Alanna fought to keep her hands by her side, resisting a temptation that was almost instinctive to bring them up into a guard.
Thom stepped back again. "We're done."
Despite herself, Alanna sighed with relief. Roger's eyes flashed at her and she turned and walked perhaps a little faster than strictly necessary to the door.
***
Jon looked over at her. "Are you alright?"
Alanna sighed. "I'm a little tired. Helping Thom keep Roger under control is taking a lot out of me."
More than you care to admit, I'll wager.
He looked down at his hands, where they rested on the stone of the balcony ledge. "I'm sorry – when I think back, it seems so obvious that it was Roger's hand behind so much that happened, and I must have made it so hard for you, trusting him like that – stupid to have."
She smiled sadly, shrugging. "You have to trust someone – why not your family. He's a very good actor."
He brushed her cheek, and suddenly it seemed hard to breathe. "Jon," she began. She swallowed, and tried again. "Jon – there's no need for you to act anymore – no one's watching us …"
"I wasn't acting." Alanna looked up at him, startled as much by his words as by the husky tone of his voice. He brushed his hand against her cheek again, lifting her chin. "May I?"
She swallowed. "What?"
"Kiss you."
She shrugged. "If you like."
He leaned forward, brushing her lips lightly. Surprising herself as much as him, Alanna responded, her arms seeming to come up and wrap themselves around his neck of their own free will.
Jon pulled back, eyes wide. "And here I was thinking you were going to hit me."
Alanna laughed, a trifle nervously, only then realising just how close they were. She blushed, the colour visible only as a slight darkening of her pale skin. "We probably should go back inside before someone sees us."
He sighed. "Suppose so. Or," he looked down. "We could go for a walk in the gardens …"
Alanna made a sound somewhere between a laugh and a cough. "Well that's just filled with implications, isn't it, my lord Prince?"
Now it was Jon's turn to blush. "Sorry – I didn't mean to."
She raised an eyebrow. "Well – if you promise to be a gentleman and stand on your chivalry, I'm sure it wouldn't do that much harm."
He grinned, releasing her to offer his arm. "Then shall we?"
She smiled archly. "Of course."
It wasn't uncommon for the gardens to be used for secret trysts among young men and women – nobles and commoners alike. There was, after all, something to be said for dark bushes and flowery arbours. However, the paths were all well lit, and Alanna and Jon stayed well within the boundaries of them, Jon following Alanna's lead.
Jon murmured something, and Alanna looked up. "What?"
"I used to play here as a little boy, when court functions got to be too much."
She grinned. "Nothing's changed then?"
"Not really. There's a crack here." He said, lifting here gently. Alanna looked up, and he kissed her again. She smiled, turning to kneel and run her hands gently over stone, and sure enough, there it was.
She raised her eyebrows. "You remembered that from what, fifteen years ago? I'm impressed."
"I have a good memory."
The bell tower tolled, announcing midnight. Alanna looked up at it from where she still knelt on the path. "It's getting late – I should get back to my rooms."
Jon looked crestfallen. "It's not that late."
She smiled up at him, holding out a hand for him to help her up. "Nonetheless, I have to get up early, remember?"
He rolled his eyes. "Alright. May I walk you back to your rooms?"
Alanna raised a single coppery eyebrow.
HE held up his left hand, crossing his right over his heart. "Just to the door – I wouldn't want to besmirch your reputation."
Alanna smiled, taking his hand, then dropped it, blushing, and together they walked together back to her rooms, not touching – not quite.
They reached her rooms and Jon took her hand, brushing it lightly with his lips, but instead of releasing it, he used it to pull her closer to gently kiss her lips. Alanna pulled back, smiling. "I really should go to bed."
He nodded. "I'll see you tomorrow."
"Goodnight, Jon." She murmured, opening the door. Closing it, she slid down against her grinning foolishly.
"Have a good time?" She looked up in surprise at Shannyn.
"The best."
***
Liam looked up in surprise as Alanna all but bounced down the stairs to the practise courts. "You're up early."
She smiled. "I got a lot of sleep last night." In truth, she hadn't, and when she had, her dreams had prevented it from being truly restful, but she had found them anything but unpleasant.
Liam looked up at her. "I think we'll just work at unarmed today."
Alanna nodded, and they began.
***
Liam dropped onto a nearby bench. "Well," he said. "That settles it, then."
Alanna looked over at him. "What?"
"I didn't think you were ready for it this summer, but I want to take you to the annual meeting of the Shang next summer."
"And?" she prompted, curious.
He sighed. "I want you to face the Ordeal then. I think you'll be ready then."
This was unexpected. "But – I haven't trained for long enough – have I?"
He looked down. "You are, quite honestly, the most gifted student I have ever taught the ways of Shang. You're naturally talented, very quick, strong, and agile. That, combined with the fact that you had previous training before I took you on, and that you're already teaching alongside with me – teaching final year Tortallan squires – makes me think – know – that you're ready for this."
She swallowed, but Liam hadn't finished yet. "The only thing is that you must have the confidence for it. You are, naturally confident in your fighting abilities, but you must not allow yourself to be cowed by the idea of facing the Ordeal of Shang – I believe you can do it, but you must believe that, too."
She nodded. "If you think I'm ready –"
He looked up again. "I know you're ready. Trust me, Alanna."
She nodded. "Alright."
He smiled. "Good lass." He stood up. "Ah, here come the pages. Could you get the staffs?"
She shrugged. "Sure."
***
Liam had decided to work with staffs across the entire range – including third and fourth year squires. Alanna walked along the row of squires, checking posture and generally supervising. Thom turned around. "Why hello, sister dear."
"Hello Thom."
"Have a good time last night?"
"Yes –"
Thom made a face. "I saw you with Jon. You looked … rather cosy."
Alanna blushed. "We were talking."
"Mmmm." He said. "You didn't really think you could put it past me, did you?"
"Put what past you?"
"Your blatantly-obvious-to-anyone-with-eyes relationship with Jon."
"What relationship?" She asked, casually picking up a staff and attacking him slowly. He blocked, intent more on the conversation than on sparring.
"That little scene out on the balcony. I'm hoping that's a relationship, cause if it isn't …"
"You'll put frogs in Jon's bed?"
He scowled. "Anyone who messes with my little sister deserves more than frogs in their bed."
She laughed. "Protecting me, Thom? I don't need it, I'll have you know."
He slammed her staff aside. "Just because you can fight doesn't mean you know everything there is to know about the world. I've known Jon a lot longer than you have, Alanna."
She sighed. "I'm aware of the many affairs he's had, Thom. It's kind of hard to keep something like that secret about any noble, let alone the Crown Prince."
He looked up. "I just don't want you getting hurt."
Alanna's lips tightened. "I can manage my own affairs, Thom."
"So I shouldn't be worried about you?"
"Worry all you want. Just don't interfere when it's not your business."
"I think it's my business when it concerns my sister and best friend." He muttered.
She sighed. "Fine. Do whatever you want if anything happens. But interfere without any reason other than this absurd over-protectiveness and you'll be the one with much worse than frogs in your bed."
***
"Alanna!"
She spun, skirts swirling around her, and blushed. "Hello Jon."
He smiled back, if a little tightly. "I've just been to see father. He's – he's set the date for the trial as two days hence." He gripped her hand tightly.
Oh, Jon." She sighed, hugging him. "Are you alright? He is your cousin, after all –"
His mouth tightened. "He killed my mother."
Alanna was silent. He looked at down at her. "What are you doing tomorrow?"
She looked up, surprised. "Oh, nothing really. There're no lessons, so after my workout with Liam, I'm not sure what I'll be doing."
He nodded, raising her hand to hip lips. "Would you like to come riding?"
She made a face. "That depends. Where to?"
"Port Cayn."
She coughed. "That's quite a way from here."
"Please? I could use the distraction."
She smiled, wrinkling her nose at him. "Fine."
"Thank you. Shall I come to your apartments to get you?"
"Yes."
"Ahem." They both turned at the sound of Thom, leaning against a wall nearby. He raised an eyebrow. "This is what you call nothing?" He mocked gently.
Alanna blushed. "Shut up."
"Rhiannon's looking for you. I think she wants to go shopping."
"I'd better go and find her then."
"Yes." He said, standing up straight to walk closer to Jon as she picked up her skirts, walking away, then suddenly stopped, and spun on her heel. She fixed a hard stare on Thom. "Play nice. Both of you."
***
Jon lifted her down from Luna's saddle, an irritating but necessary part of riding sidesaddle, whispering in her ear. "Welcome to Port Cayn."
She looked around. "It's changed."
He looked surprised. "You've been here before?"
"Once. When I officially became Liam's apprentice – there was a Shang meeting here. I didn't get to see much of the town."
He nodded. "Well, I'll have to show you around."
She looked over at him, a half-smile playing over her lips. "I take it you've been here a few times."
He rolled his eyes. "More than a few. When I was younger, not long after the beginning of their reign, my parents liked to hold a summer court here once a month – they said it allowed the common people to come and see them without having to travel so far, but I never really saw how a less hours out of a trip that could take days – weeks, even – would be significantly shortened by a few hours."
"One of the things you intend to change when you become king?"
He stared at her, startled. "How in Mithros' name did you know that?"
She smiled. "You get this distant look in your eyes whenever you're thinking about the future. And you're such a – a – Royal. There's no other way to put it. Someone else might try and fight their future, but you – you don't just accept having to one day lead all those people, you embrace it."
He shrugged. "I can't. I tried – sort of – when I was younger, but if I have to be king, I might as well do it well. I'm not saying sometimes I don't wish that's not what will eventually happen, but I can't change it –"
She smiled. "You never feel trapped by it?"
He looked down at her, squinting against the afternoon sun behind her. "Less often than I used to."
She shrugged. "I suppose having your life mapped out as a king-in-waiting is different to having your life mapped out as a lady. I mean – for me the life everyone expected me to lead was sitting quietly while I embroidered something for the latest brat my husband had got on me. Whereas you get – well, somewhat more freedom as to your life than I was given."
He raised an eyebrow. "I didn't hear any mention of becoming the only female noble Gifted Shang in recent history – if not ever – in those plans."
She smiled archly. "I never said my plans for me matched those everyone around me had for me."
He laughed. "Do you ever do what people expect you to do?"
"Which people? Thom, Shannyn, Rhia and Tat might be able to tell what I'd do in the face of some situations, but by no means all."
"Which makes it all the more interesting when you surprise them."
She grinned. "Exactly."
***
Alanna shuddered as she and Thom made their way to Roger's prison again. The last few days with Jon, she had managed – mostly – to forget about his cousin, while learning about an entirely different side to Jon, one she'd never seen before.
He looked up at them from where he was seated as they entered. "They tell me I'm to be judged today."
Thom reached for the bands around Roger's wrists, padlocking the heavy chains into the heavy steel loops designed for just that purpose. Their presence was an unpleasant experience for both of them, but necessary – only they could modify the spells that surrounded the former duke to allow him out of the prison to the courtroom where he would be judged.
The guards – there were two this time, led him out; Alanna and Thom following close behind.
***
Jon looked at Alanna from his vantage point by his father on the platform, seated beside Thom. She looked paler than usual, though the frail redhead's complexion was usually a pale milk colour, making it hard to tell.
King Roald stood. "Roger of Conte, you have been accused of Regicide in one case – the murder of our most beloved queen – and attempted Regicide in two cases – against us, your Sovereign, and our son, your cousin. This also holds the charge of treason against your country and ruler. Added to this is the murder of your fellow noble and conspirator, one Ralon of Malven. How do you plead?"
Roger lifted his chin. "Not guilty, your Majesty."
The king continued. "Delia of Eldorne. You have been accused of being an accomplice to treason, allying yourself against us with Roger of Conte. How do you plead?"
Delia's face had lost none of it's haughtiness, though she looked strangely plain without her cosmetics, and her voice was horse from her constant screaming during her imprisonment. "Not guilty, your Majesty."
He looked at Alex. "Alexander of Tirragen, you are likewise accused of being an accomplice to treason, allying yourself against us with Roger of Conte. How do you plead?"
"Not guilty, your Majesty."
The king's face was grim, and lined like an old man since the death of Jon's mother. "Call the first witness."
A herald beside him looked at the rolled parchment in his hand. "Myles of Olau."
Sir Myles rose, and walked to the witness box. The king looked at him. "What is your evidence for this case?"
Sir Myles cleared his throat. "I was witness to a secret meeting, which I and others were informed of by the lady Alanna of Trebond, who was working as a double agent for his Highness – " Here he nodded at Jon. "– at which Roger of Conte spoke openly of using his Gift to cause the death of the late queen, and at which he murdered Ralon of Malven. He also spoke openly of his intent to cause the death of King Roald and Prince Jonathan."
The king nodded. "Is that all?"
Sir Myles inclined his head. "Yes, your Majesty."
"Call the next witness."
The herald once again read from his list, and this time it was Duke Gareth who
came forward, to speak of the meeting he had been witness to.
Thom was called, his extra evidence causing several gasps from those assembled, and then, last of all, Alanna.
The king regarded her. "Lady Alanna. As both our son and all previous witnesses have told us, you worked as a double agent on behalf of our son. Is this true?"
She nodded. "Yes, your Majesty."
He leaned forward slightly. "And why was that?"
She lifted her chin. "My brother informed me of much of what he suspected and knew about the duke whilst he was at the palace these last several years. When I came here, and became friends with his Highness, the duke approached me with a suggestion that I exploit my friendship with the Prince as a spy for him. He offered to reward me –" at the king's nod, she continued. "He offered to reward me with a position in his inner circle once he became king. I pretended to accept and work as his agent. When I was given news of this meeting, I informed my brother and his Highness, and my brother used the link between our Gifts to track me to where the meeting was taking place, and lead the other witnesses to it. I saw the duke kill Ralon of Malven, and heard him speak openly of those things now brought against him."
The king nodded. "Very well. Call Roger of Conte to the stand."
Roger stood there, holding himself as if he were the king and Roald the man on trial. He denied it all, of course, but when he had left the stand the king himself rose, declaring his presence amongst those who witnessed the meeting, and that there was no way to discount the evidence of his own eyes. Then he declared his sentence, and, if it were possible, Alanna went even paler.
"Roger of Conte – you shall be beheaded, and your body burnt, it's ashes scattered to the wind. Delia of Eldorne and Alexander of Tirragen, you shall both be hung, and your bodies burnt, their ashes scattered to the wind. This shall take place at dawn on the morrow."
Alanna was so white Jon worried she might faint.
"Court dismissed."
He hurried through the crowd to her side, ignoring the murmurs that followed in his wake, taking her hands. "Are you alright?"
She looked up at him. "That's horrible. I know it's no more than he deserves – no more than any of them do, but – tomorrow I'll have to lead him to his execution."
Jon wrapped his arms around her. "Thom," he said, looking at the squire over Alanna's head. "Does the other person have to be Alanna?"
The young man looked thoughtful. "Not necessarily. It'd be harder, of course, but if the other person were a strong mage, it wouldn't be to hard for one night. Mithros, I could perform it on my own if I had the training. Unfortunately, I don't."
"Could I do it?"
Thom raised his eyebrows, shoving his hands in his pockets in a very undignified manner. "I suppose so – it's pretty horrible, though." His gaze fell to Alanna, then back up to Jon's face, understanding dawning in his eyes. "But if you're willing …"
Jon nodded. "I'm willing."
***
The crowd gathered on and below Traitor's Hill, murmuring in suppressed excitement.
Alanna looked around. "This is disgusting. All these people come to watch them die."
Jon squeezed her hand reassuringly. "It's alright."
She shook her head. "No, it's not. I know they're traitors Jon, but for people to come to their execution as if it was some sort of entertainment is disgusting."
He looked down at her, frowning. "I'm not saying it's morally correct, Alanna. I'm just saying that's what most people are like. And it does discourage treachery, if you want to look at it from my father's point of view."
"So you accept it?" She demanded.
He shrugged. "What else can I do? I don't like the idea of people viewing death as some sort of entertainment any more than you do, but I can't stop it."
She looked at him accusingly. "Yes you could."
He sighed. "I'm not king yet, Alanna. If I had a choice, I would have chosen to have it done privately, if only to save you this."
"Oh, so you' d do it for me, but not because you think it's what you should do."
He closed his eyes briefly, rubbing his forehead. "You're being difficult. Of course I think that's what should be done, I was just saying that I don't like to see you distressed like this."
She looked down.
"Are you still mad at me?"
She sighed. "No."
"Then why won't you look at up me?"
"I'll do it battle but I don't want to view a man having his head cut off."
"Oh."
"Tell me when it's over."
He didn't need to – the ecstatic cries of the crowd told her as each of the traitors died.
When it was over, and the bodies heaped onto the bonfire, a wind leapt up, trailing the ashes into swirling eddies in the air, chasing people home. Ironically, given the execution of one of the Royals, the next day was the end of mourning, and the court blazed with colour once again.
