George sat Gary, Jon, and Raoul down on stools. Alanna he pushed onto his bed, where she perched on its edge and peered at Jon.
"You don't look so good, my Prince," she advised.
He laughed hoarsely. "I never mada should'a drinken you 5 glasses!" He hiccupped and swayed. Raoul smiled ironically.
Smiling grimly, George put a steady hand on Jon's shoulder and nudged him. Jon took a breath and tried again.
"I never should have made you drink so much," he said slowly, grimacing with effort.
Alanna frowned for a moment, then broke out into a huge grin. "I don't mind a little bit, Jon." They smiled at each other. Gary coughed.
"I'm alla for goin' t' drink mores at the downstairs!" he declared. Raoul clapped him on the shoulder and stood. George leapt for the door.
"Now lads, normally I wouldn't object t' you bein' in this condition. I'm all for partyin', but I have bad news from Tusaine and--"
Raoul pushed him to the side. "Move over," he growled. George winced. Raoul, who was the strongest of the group, was normally very easygoing. He wasn't sure, however, what the big knight was like under the influence of spirits. Hastily he moved to the side.
"I'm advisin' you to sober up!" George called to Gary and Raoul as they descended the stairs. "There's trouble brewin'!" Gary brushed him off with a wave of his hand.
"Soooo…Georgio…What's this troubles you says?" Jon drawled.
George turned red with rage. "Tusaine is armed for war! Don't you care! You too damned drunk to realize that you need to be sober on this night! You're father, your uncle, and your cousin will be most displeased! Curse you, Jon. If I was a knight…Well they should be arming for war! You will all be needed!"
The Prince yawned and stretched. "Gods, George, yer too annoying."
The thief strode forward angrily and slapped Jon. Alanna jumped up, drawing Lightning as she did so.
"You dare touch my friend, Prince, and knight-master!" She cried, pressing Lightning's tip to George's throat before he could react. Frantically he raised his hands in defeat.
"Alanna…you don't understand!" He stammered. "Tusaine is preparing to attack. All four of your have to go back to the palace!"
"Don't tell us what to do, thief," spat Alanna, shaking in drunken fury. After several moments she lowered her sword and the three stood in silence.
A quiet knock that was heard only by George sounded on the King of Thieves door. He licked his lips and glanced at his companions before opening it.
A buxom, brunette woman walked in, smirking.
" 'Lo, George," she purred. "Who're those brawny, handsome lads downstairs. Right riotous drunk, they are."
"Ladonna," George nodded to her in acknowledgement. "Those boys are my friends. These two here are their companions. May I present Johnny and Alan."
Alanna and Jon chuckled and elbowed each other.
"Maybe they should go," suggested Ladonna hesitantly.
George looked from Ladonna to Alanna and finally nodded.
"Time to go, lads." He ushered Alanna and Jon out the door. Alanna frowned, finally realizing Ladonna's purpose there. As they were leaving, George thrust a piece of paper into Jon's fist and whispered into his ear, "Get back to the palace, now!" He shut the door.
In the common room Jon and Alanna found their large friends, and ordered a mug of ale before they left. Finally all four of them tottered into the stable yard to fetch their horses.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
King Roald, Duke Roger, and Duke Gareth paced the throne room, undecided and livid with rage.
"Tell me once more what happened," Roald demanded of Gareth calmly. The Duke took a breath and tugged on his lip.
"They had been drinking far too much…Even Alan of Trebond. As soon as I saw them, I immediately reprimanded them and sent them to their rooms. But somehow they never made it. They--"
"We know they didn't make it there! We checked!" snapped Roger. "We checked and checked and checked! And now four of our fighters are gone when we need them."
"We can't march without them!" insisted Gareth.
They argued for ten more minutes before Jon, Gary, Raoul, and Alanna burst into the throne room.
"Hello Father. We was on the horses to the city."
Roald gripped the arm of his seat with a white knuckled fist. "Who is 'we'"
"Me, Alanna, Gary, Raoul, and Alex. Yes."
"Who's Alanna?" Roger said slyly.
"Alanna?" Jon repeated, clearly confused. "Who's Alanna?"
"It does not matter. Jonathan, I am very disappointed in you. You let me down greatly. You let our people down greatly. I thought more of you," Roald said in disgust and anguish.
"Now, Roald, let's be fair," Gareth argued. "The boys had a just cause for celebration."
"And now they are unfit for battle! I never thought they could become so horrendously drunk!"
"You've been worse. I've seen you--"
"Silence! Jonathan, how much of this do you understand?"
Jon straightened his shoulders. "Every teensy word, father."
"Good. Raoul, you'll be in charge of a group of knights. Jon, Gary, Alan, you will be at the northern reaches of the camp. Now…be gone. I need to think."
As the group raced to their rooms, Jon opened the crumpled piece of paper from George. It showed the Tusaine companies of foot soldiers and legions. It finally hit him; they were going to war.
(A/n: ok that's all I can spit out right now. I hope you don't think that the 4 are less drunk. They are still very drunk, its just hard to portray them that way. Yes…very drunk. HICCUP *blushes*. Them, not me. Nope)
