That was a mouthful! I'm sorry this is so long but I wanted to get that
part finished from the book. I have copied a lot from the book so I have to
probably put out a disclaimer again. What you recognise belongs to Tamora
Pierce and not me.
At Dinner..
Thom was sitting next to Duke Roger when Alanna noticed something was wrong with the Queen. She was pale and trembling.
She remembered what she saw in the Chamber. She touched the ember stone at her throat and saw what she expected to see, the Queen was glowing an orange colour that Alanna had seen many times before. Roger, she thought.
She clenched her teeth in anger and realised that she had to act now. Geoffrey, who was sitting next to her noticed the look she had on her face, he had seen the determination and anger on his face often enough it was easy for him to recognise.
He was just about to ask her what was wrong when she stood up and excused herself. I wonder what's wrong with him, he thought.
Alanna hurried to her room where she found Faithful. You're taking a risk. If he finds you, he'll kill you! Faithful told her while she searched for the lock picks that George had given her.
"Then we mustn't get caught!"
We?
"Yes, we. You're coming to be guard."
She broke into the Duke of Conté's rooms. She knew she wouldn't find anything in the main rooms he'd have the physical evidence that she needed in another, private room. She saw the door and blasted the lock open.
Looking round the workbenches she found many books, some she knew, some she had heard of. There were many crystals of all different sizes and colours. Some she refused to touch.
She heard the soft splashing of water and turned looking round the room for the source. There was a fountain at the back of the room. The water came out of the wall and splashed over rocks with flowering moss on them. Curious as to why the fountain was there she went over and looked at it.
Looking closely she saw a wax doll and a bundle of something wrapped in a silvery cloth. After much hesitation she picked both of them up and carried them over to a workbench to get a closer look.
The doll was a perfect model of the Queen; the doll was even wearing a replica of her favourite gown. The doll had been in the water for a long time: the features on the face had almost disappeared and the colour was washed from the gown. Alanna knew this spell: the sorcerer made an image of their victim and placed it in running water, the person represented by the doll wasted away quickly or slowly, fading into death. Roger had used the finest wax that money could buy, and Alanna suspected that he had taken the doll out of the water ever so often to make the Queens illness and eventual death seem natural.
She put the doll aside, trembling and then looked at the bundle. Lifting the bundle less carefully this time, she saw the tear in the side too late. Another tiny doll fell out of the bundle and struck the table. Alanna yelled, her side suddenly felt like one massive bruise. Biting her fist to stop herself from making anymore noise, she picked the image up. It was of course an image of her. She examined the bundle more closely. The tear was long and thin, nearly invisible against the fine-woven silk. Her hands throbbed; she remembered how they had felt the morning of her Ordeal as if she was trying to tear a hole in tightly woven cloth. Drawing her dagger, she cut the string that held the bundle closed and carefully opened it up on the table's surface. Figures that bore eerie resemblances to the King, Duke Gareth, Myles, the Lord Provost and even Jonathan lay revealed before her eyes.
Jonathan sat up straighter and looked around him as though he was just seeing everything clearly. Everything seemed sharper, not just the room and people but thoughts. His fell on Roger and it finally struck him. He's trying to kill me! He's trying to kill my mother! And Father! He slumped back down in his chair and looked around himself frantically. Calm down! It's not going to help if you go into frenzy and make yourself ill or he might find out you know and kill you as soon as he gets a chance. How will that help? So calm down, a sensibly part of him told the other parts. He took some deep breaths and sat up straight again. He was still pale but he thought he was ready to act normally again.
"Jon, what's wrong?" Gary asked concerned.
"Nothing, nothing's wrong. Why would anything be wrong?"
"You were just acting a little strange that's all."
"Oh, well nothing's wrong with me. Where's 'Lanna gone?" he asked looking over at her empty seat and changing the subject.
"Don't know, she's gone somewhere, to neaten her hair maybe?" Jon laughed.
"Yeah, maybe. I get the feeling she's getting herself in trouble again."
"She always is, what difference is it going to make this time?"
"No punishment work!"
"Exactly!" the two of them laughed, Jon a little uneasily.
What are you going to do now? You've broken all those silly rules of chivalry to get this far. What next? Faithful enquired.
"Roger can't be allowed to go on this way. When he comes back tonight, he'll know I took them. So, if my friends and I are to survive his finding out, I'd better do something about Roger of Conté right now."
Alanna returned to the banquet hall, the veil and it's contents in her hand. She stopped to ask Myles and Jon, she asked them to join her before the King's table.
"Why?" Jon asked.
"Because, I've got proof." She looked over at Thom who was exchanging stories with Raoul and Gary, and caught his eye. Thom excused himself and came and stood next to her. She took a deep breath and walked up to the long table infront of the two thrones, bowing low to the King and Queen. Only when she felt Myles, Thom and Jonathan at her back, did she begin to speak.
Great Mother, help me with this, she pleaded silently when Roald acknowledged her. I don't know if this is how you wanted me to do this, but it's the only way I know.
"Majesty," she said clearly, making sure everyone could hear her voice, "I have done a dishonourable thing." The great hall was suddenly quiet. Alanna drew a deep breath and went on. "I broke into a man's chambers tonight. I knew this was dishonourable, and I did it anyway. What I did was wrong. What I thought to find-what I did find- was far worse."
She placed the veil and the images inside it on the table before the King. Lianne cried out in horror, shrinking away from the little dolls made to represent her, her husband, her son and her brother. The King and Duke Gareth were pale; the Provost, peering round his neighbour's shoulder, turned red with fury. Thom reached out curiously for a moment before remembering it would not be a good idea to handle those images. There was no reading the emotions either Jonathan or Myles was feeling-perhaps it was just as well.
Alanna looked at Roger. The sorcerer could see what she had put before his uncle; he was gripping the arms of his chair with his white-knuckled hands. Their eyes met.
"Shall I tell them where I found these, Your Grace?" she challenged loudly. "Shall I tell them about the little fountain in your private work room where the Queen's image lay under running water, wasting away little by little? Shall I-"
"Liar!" Roger snarled. "Majesty, Sir Alan has long been jealous of my influence with you and my cousin Jonathan. He now seeks to dishonour me in your eyes by showing you these dolls he created and accusing me of casting such spells!"
"For what reason?" Alanna asked King Roald. "Why would I wish the Queen harm? She is the mother of my Prince and my friend. She has been kind to me. I do not gain by harming her, just as I do not gain form veiling the sight of those who could stop me from stealing a throne that is not mine!"
"Liar!" Roger cried, standing to point an accusing finger at her. "Do you deny that you have the skill to place such a spell? Do you deny that you have the knowledge, when I taught image-magic to you myself? You planned to kill their Majesties, so that when Jonathan became King, you would be the most powerful knight in the realm."
"That is very interesting." Myles looked at Roger, his gentle eyes hard. "Carry that thinking a step further and suppose the death of Prince Jonathan. Who would gain? I submit, Roger that you would gain as the next King of Tortall."
"It's a plot against me!" Roger cried, looking around him. "Myles tries to turn you all against me while this young man gives false evidence!" He stopped waiting for the King to say something. The only sound was in the banquet hall was the Queen weeping softly into Duke Gareth's shoulder. Roger looked for a friendly face and found none. His mouth tightened. " I demand my rights. I demand trial by combat, myself against my accuser." He pointed to Alanna. "If I lie, Sir Alan will win by the will of the gods. But I say I will win, because I am innocent!"
The silence grew as everyone waited for King Roald's decision. The King picked up the image of himself, turning it over in his fingers. "You may have the combat," he said.
"As the accused, I may choose the time," Roger said quickly. "Let it be now, before Sir Alan's lies spread and poison people's minds against me."
Alanna felt chilly and very old. She would have known that Roger would want to fight now, while she was still weary and sore from the Ordeal. She looked at her bandaged hands.
"This time or any other is of no matter to me," she said, her voice bored. "I believe Duke Roger to be plotting against the lives of my Prince and my friends. The sooner they will be safe."
"In one hour," ruled the King. "We meet in the Great Throne Room."
At Dinner..
Thom was sitting next to Duke Roger when Alanna noticed something was wrong with the Queen. She was pale and trembling.
She remembered what she saw in the Chamber. She touched the ember stone at her throat and saw what she expected to see, the Queen was glowing an orange colour that Alanna had seen many times before. Roger, she thought.
She clenched her teeth in anger and realised that she had to act now. Geoffrey, who was sitting next to her noticed the look she had on her face, he had seen the determination and anger on his face often enough it was easy for him to recognise.
He was just about to ask her what was wrong when she stood up and excused herself. I wonder what's wrong with him, he thought.
Alanna hurried to her room where she found Faithful. You're taking a risk. If he finds you, he'll kill you! Faithful told her while she searched for the lock picks that George had given her.
"Then we mustn't get caught!"
We?
"Yes, we. You're coming to be guard."
She broke into the Duke of Conté's rooms. She knew she wouldn't find anything in the main rooms he'd have the physical evidence that she needed in another, private room. She saw the door and blasted the lock open.
Looking round the workbenches she found many books, some she knew, some she had heard of. There were many crystals of all different sizes and colours. Some she refused to touch.
She heard the soft splashing of water and turned looking round the room for the source. There was a fountain at the back of the room. The water came out of the wall and splashed over rocks with flowering moss on them. Curious as to why the fountain was there she went over and looked at it.
Looking closely she saw a wax doll and a bundle of something wrapped in a silvery cloth. After much hesitation she picked both of them up and carried them over to a workbench to get a closer look.
The doll was a perfect model of the Queen; the doll was even wearing a replica of her favourite gown. The doll had been in the water for a long time: the features on the face had almost disappeared and the colour was washed from the gown. Alanna knew this spell: the sorcerer made an image of their victim and placed it in running water, the person represented by the doll wasted away quickly or slowly, fading into death. Roger had used the finest wax that money could buy, and Alanna suspected that he had taken the doll out of the water ever so often to make the Queens illness and eventual death seem natural.
She put the doll aside, trembling and then looked at the bundle. Lifting the bundle less carefully this time, she saw the tear in the side too late. Another tiny doll fell out of the bundle and struck the table. Alanna yelled, her side suddenly felt like one massive bruise. Biting her fist to stop herself from making anymore noise, she picked the image up. It was of course an image of her. She examined the bundle more closely. The tear was long and thin, nearly invisible against the fine-woven silk. Her hands throbbed; she remembered how they had felt the morning of her Ordeal as if she was trying to tear a hole in tightly woven cloth. Drawing her dagger, she cut the string that held the bundle closed and carefully opened it up on the table's surface. Figures that bore eerie resemblances to the King, Duke Gareth, Myles, the Lord Provost and even Jonathan lay revealed before her eyes.
Jonathan sat up straighter and looked around him as though he was just seeing everything clearly. Everything seemed sharper, not just the room and people but thoughts. His fell on Roger and it finally struck him. He's trying to kill me! He's trying to kill my mother! And Father! He slumped back down in his chair and looked around himself frantically. Calm down! It's not going to help if you go into frenzy and make yourself ill or he might find out you know and kill you as soon as he gets a chance. How will that help? So calm down, a sensibly part of him told the other parts. He took some deep breaths and sat up straight again. He was still pale but he thought he was ready to act normally again.
"Jon, what's wrong?" Gary asked concerned.
"Nothing, nothing's wrong. Why would anything be wrong?"
"You were just acting a little strange that's all."
"Oh, well nothing's wrong with me. Where's 'Lanna gone?" he asked looking over at her empty seat and changing the subject.
"Don't know, she's gone somewhere, to neaten her hair maybe?" Jon laughed.
"Yeah, maybe. I get the feeling she's getting herself in trouble again."
"She always is, what difference is it going to make this time?"
"No punishment work!"
"Exactly!" the two of them laughed, Jon a little uneasily.
What are you going to do now? You've broken all those silly rules of chivalry to get this far. What next? Faithful enquired.
"Roger can't be allowed to go on this way. When he comes back tonight, he'll know I took them. So, if my friends and I are to survive his finding out, I'd better do something about Roger of Conté right now."
Alanna returned to the banquet hall, the veil and it's contents in her hand. She stopped to ask Myles and Jon, she asked them to join her before the King's table.
"Why?" Jon asked.
"Because, I've got proof." She looked over at Thom who was exchanging stories with Raoul and Gary, and caught his eye. Thom excused himself and came and stood next to her. She took a deep breath and walked up to the long table infront of the two thrones, bowing low to the King and Queen. Only when she felt Myles, Thom and Jonathan at her back, did she begin to speak.
Great Mother, help me with this, she pleaded silently when Roald acknowledged her. I don't know if this is how you wanted me to do this, but it's the only way I know.
"Majesty," she said clearly, making sure everyone could hear her voice, "I have done a dishonourable thing." The great hall was suddenly quiet. Alanna drew a deep breath and went on. "I broke into a man's chambers tonight. I knew this was dishonourable, and I did it anyway. What I did was wrong. What I thought to find-what I did find- was far worse."
She placed the veil and the images inside it on the table before the King. Lianne cried out in horror, shrinking away from the little dolls made to represent her, her husband, her son and her brother. The King and Duke Gareth were pale; the Provost, peering round his neighbour's shoulder, turned red with fury. Thom reached out curiously for a moment before remembering it would not be a good idea to handle those images. There was no reading the emotions either Jonathan or Myles was feeling-perhaps it was just as well.
Alanna looked at Roger. The sorcerer could see what she had put before his uncle; he was gripping the arms of his chair with his white-knuckled hands. Their eyes met.
"Shall I tell them where I found these, Your Grace?" she challenged loudly. "Shall I tell them about the little fountain in your private work room where the Queen's image lay under running water, wasting away little by little? Shall I-"
"Liar!" Roger snarled. "Majesty, Sir Alan has long been jealous of my influence with you and my cousin Jonathan. He now seeks to dishonour me in your eyes by showing you these dolls he created and accusing me of casting such spells!"
"For what reason?" Alanna asked King Roald. "Why would I wish the Queen harm? She is the mother of my Prince and my friend. She has been kind to me. I do not gain by harming her, just as I do not gain form veiling the sight of those who could stop me from stealing a throne that is not mine!"
"Liar!" Roger cried, standing to point an accusing finger at her. "Do you deny that you have the skill to place such a spell? Do you deny that you have the knowledge, when I taught image-magic to you myself? You planned to kill their Majesties, so that when Jonathan became King, you would be the most powerful knight in the realm."
"That is very interesting." Myles looked at Roger, his gentle eyes hard. "Carry that thinking a step further and suppose the death of Prince Jonathan. Who would gain? I submit, Roger that you would gain as the next King of Tortall."
"It's a plot against me!" Roger cried, looking around him. "Myles tries to turn you all against me while this young man gives false evidence!" He stopped waiting for the King to say something. The only sound was in the banquet hall was the Queen weeping softly into Duke Gareth's shoulder. Roger looked for a friendly face and found none. His mouth tightened. " I demand my rights. I demand trial by combat, myself against my accuser." He pointed to Alanna. "If I lie, Sir Alan will win by the will of the gods. But I say I will win, because I am innocent!"
The silence grew as everyone waited for King Roald's decision. The King picked up the image of himself, turning it over in his fingers. "You may have the combat," he said.
"As the accused, I may choose the time," Roger said quickly. "Let it be now, before Sir Alan's lies spread and poison people's minds against me."
Alanna felt chilly and very old. She would have known that Roger would want to fight now, while she was still weary and sore from the Ordeal. She looked at her bandaged hands.
"This time or any other is of no matter to me," she said, her voice bored. "I believe Duke Roger to be plotting against the lives of my Prince and my friends. The sooner they will be safe."
"In one hour," ruled the King. "We meet in the Great Throne Room."