A note to my readers: I'm sorry I haven't updated many of my stories in a while. Every so often, I go into a stage where I just won't bring myself to write. I think I'm out of that now. And as to my unfinished stories…I just can't write them. I can't write the stories that don't really appeal to me. Sorry. So here's my latest attempt, and 'lo! I just may be able to write it! *cringes in disgust* It's even possibly A/G…ew. Ack! *washes mouth out, changes mind, and dips the traitorous fingers in acid.* there. All clean. Ok, here 'goes.

Quick prologue:

Alanna of Trebond, alias Alan, studied at the royal capital of Tortall to be a knight. Her best friends were Prince Jonathan, Raoul of Goldenlake, Gareth the younger of Naxen, and sometimes Alex of Tirragen. During her years as a page, she fought off the sweating sickness, learned swordplay, and ridded the Black City of the Ysandir. Also, she became friends with Myles of Olau and the Lord Provost. During those times, she and her friends aided the Provost in searches for the thieves of the city. Finally, when Alanna was 13, the Lord Provost and his men succeeded in catching George Cooper. For one year the councils ordered him to be locked in prison until they decided what to do with him. Now, as Alanna entered her years as squire to Jonathan, the King of Thieves' much anticipated trial loomed ahead.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

"Alan?" Jonathan's voice rang clearly through the training yards. "Alan!" His squire was practicing swordplay. She looked up. "Come here please!"

Alanna walked over to him. "Yes, Jon?" She stripped off her gloves and sheathed lightning.

"I have to go to one of my father's meetings tonight. The Tusaine ambassador and his wife are coming in a fortnight. I was wondering…" he dug into his belt purse and drew out a small piece of parchment. "…Would you take this to my Lord Provost? It concerns George Cooper's trial. They've a date set, finally."

Alanna shrugged. "Alright, I'll take it now. What time will you be returning tonight?" She took the paper from him.

"Not till late tonight, but--" the bell rang. "Gods, I have to go. Just see that m Lord gets that." He signaled to the paper in Alanna's hands and hurried towards the palace.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Alanna made her way confidently through the dim prison level of the palace, Faithful trotting behind her. It was underground and off to the side. Very few people were allowed down there. Finally she came to the Provost's office door.

"My lord?" she knocked, and the door opened.

"Ah, Alan, come in, boy," the Provost said gruffly. "What're ye needin' then?"

Still standing in the doorway, she drew out Jonathan's note and held it out to him. He made no move to take it.

"What is it?" the man asked, sharp blue eyes locked on her amethyst ones.

"A note from the Prince," she supplied, used to these doings.

Slowly, the Provost reached out for it, and scanned it quickly. He swore under his breath. "Three weeks?!" he whispered, so Alanna could barely hear him. He lifted his stare to Alanna's face, and offering no explanation, strode quickly away, towards the stairs to the main palace. "Stay away from th' prisoners!" He called over his shoulder, and was gone.

Awkwardly, Alanna stood about for a minute or two, unsure of what to do. Finally Faithful leapt onto her shoulder.

Why are you just standing here? he demanded. Go talk to the prisoners!

"He just told me not to, Faithful," Alanna said distractedly, her feet already carrying her towards the prison cells. As she passed them, the prisoners called out to her. She set her face grimly and ignored them. At last she came to the final cell. It was quite small, with no windows. The walls were made of thick, sturdy wood on three sides and the fourth, front wall was comprised of steel bars. A man sat idly on a small cot inside, watching her closely.

"So, Alan of Trebond decides to visit me at last," the man drawled. Alanna's hand went instinctively towards Lightning's hilt

"Are you George Cooper?" she demanded.

"Depends," he said.

"It makes no difference to me," Alanna said defensively. "I just wanted to take a look at you. I wondered how you caused all this racket. Now that I've seen you, I still wonder." It was true; George's brown hair was greasy, his skin pale from a year spent in the cell, his once-lively hazel eyes dull. He only looked to be about 22.

"Why do you care of my affairs?" George asked suspiciously.

Alanna shrugged. "Oh, nothing, really," she said lightly, inspecting Lightning's crystal-studded hilt. "I only wanted to see the infamous thief-king. Mayhap I came to the wrong cell."

The man sprang up. "You dare bait a jailed man.." he growled. Alanna chuckled.

"Do not threaten me, George Cooper. You're an interesting fellow. Tell me about yourself, and maybe I can get you a nice meal." Alanna waited, arms crossed. George looked at her steadily, unmoving.

"Alright," he began, drawing a breath. "My mother only knew my father for a few short months. By th' time I was born, he was out of my life. Mother's a respectable woman, mind you…"

Finally, he concluded his story with how a rival thief had lured he, the King of Rogues, into the Provost's waiting clutches. His story finished, he turned his face from Alanna, breathing deeply.

"Alanna!? There you are!" Jon ran up behind her, placing a hand on her shoulder. George immediately turned around, staring at the two nobles intently.

"What did ye say?" George whispered carefully. Jonathan drew himself up.

"I will not associate myself with your likes, George Cooper."

George smiled. "I believe you just called the lad…Alanna."

Jonathan's fist clenched. "I call him that sometimes, in jest. He's very small, as you may have noticed. I tease him about being girl-sized."

Alanna nodded mutely, arms hanging at her sides. Jon cleared his throat.

"Come, Alan. Myles was looking for you."

"In a moment," Alanna said quietly. "I have to fix my shoe."

Slowly, Jon shrugged and started to walk away. Once he was gone, Alanna walked closer to George's cell.

"I want more than a good meal, Alanna of Trebond," the thief whispered. "I want out. If they're goin' t' hang me, I'll tell everyone."