Chapter Two



Kel swung herself off Peachblossom, whipped off his tack and rubbed him down at express speed. She was due to see Lord Wyldon at the sixth bell and she'd spent far too long at tilting practice. With nothing to show for it, either... at least, nothing if you didn't count bruises.

I may not be on probation anymore, she thought, but Joren and his crowd haven't lightened up one bit. I know it wasn't my fault I fell off after the race... but who'll believe me?

"I'll get Joren for knocking you off Peachblossom!" came a shout in her ear. Kel looked at Neal. He was too good at sneaking up on people! Well, one person would believe me, she amended ruefully.

Shutting her door behind her, Kel threw herself on her bed with a sigh. She had just had a very unpleasant interview with Lord Wyldon, who - for some reason! - objected to her 'continual and unrepentant lateness'. Kel, while conceding the neat description, forbore to point out that it was he who kept telling her to practise tilting, archery and fencing in her free time and the only free time she could carve out was - what a surprise! - before meals, lessons or prayers. Anyway, Kel thought with a grin, he wouldn't have cause to complain for the next three weeks. If she were late, he'd given her the punishment work.

"How did it go?" asked Neal, dropping into the chair by her bed and - for once! - leaving the door open.

"Not too bad." said Kel. "Only three weeks in the armoury."

Neal whistled. "He hates you even more than me! I thought he might stop it this year. I mean, it's easy to see why he hates me. But you work the hardest of us all!"

"Mm. But Neal, you seem to forget that I'm a girl. I threaten his nice, neat little world. Anyway, how's your father? And is the Queen any better?"

"Oh, Father's fine. But the Queen is worse. Father can't figure out what's causing it. She's just weak. So weak that the smallest thing could kill her. Like getting a bit excited, or one of her children cutting a knee, or a spidren attack. So Father's keeping her very quiet, in bed, no public appearances, only the blandest occurrences being told, Jonathan and the children seeing her a lot but no loud voices. That sort of thing."

"That's awful! Do you think... no. Is there any other news?"

"Are you sure you want the news? I knew it! Well, Numair and... Daine... they're going to try and treat with the spidrens."

"With the spidrens? Are they crazy? They're mindless killers! They...they'd have their arms off soon as look at them! It's madness!"

"Your pronouns need a little work, my dear," drawled Neal in his best scholarly-elegant manner. "I thought you'd react like that. It's the Knight Commander of the King's Own's idea. I must say, it does seem rather a risk... but that's why Numair's involved. Daine's to talk to them, with her wild magic she'll do better than anyone else, and Numair's to blast them if it goes wrong. But, you'll be interested to hear, the pages are to provide extra protection. Under the command of the Stump, Hakim Fahrar of the King's Own and," he smiled proprietorially, "Sir Lady Alanna of Pirates Swoop."



Kel leapt off her bed with a whoop of joy.

"Wow! When do we start!?"

It was cold in the stableyard, especially before dawn. Kel saddled Peachblossom with expert efficiency and led him out, escaping the sly looks and punches that Joren's gang would mete out if she were there at the same time as them. The pages had been ordered at supper the night before to be ready to go at dawn; Kel had come out with half-an-hour to spare purely in order that she might be ready before Joren. Then, looking along towards the palace, she saw Alanna, the King's Champion, come out. Gasping, Kel ran back into the stable. From there, she tethered Peachblossom to a post and leant against the wall. She wasn't quite sure why she didn't want to meet the Lioness, only that she was scared. Then she remembered what Neal had said a couple of days ago, that Queen Thayet was an old friend of Alanna's. She also remembered the stories about Duke Roger of Conté, one of Alanna's old enemies. That he had placed image magic on the previous Queen, Lianne, which had worn her away with weakness. And then Kel knew that she had to talk to the Lioness.



She stepped out of the stable, untying Peachblossom. As she had hoped, Alanna greeted the page as she went past. It gave Kel the opening she needed.

"Um, sir.. Ma'am... your ladyship... um..."

Alanna turned around and grinned at her. "It'll be your problem in a few years!" she warned. "Try Alanna."

Kel blinked. She could never do that! "Um, could I talk to you? About... well..."

"The Queen," Alanna's grin had vanished and her eyes were hard as flint. "Duke Roger is dead, Keladry. I slew him myself," She suppressed a shudder, remembering their last duel. "I slew him... twice."

"But he rose once!" cried Kel eagerly. Alanna cut her off.

"He was risen once. By... by a young sorcerer with more pride than self control..."

"Your brother," whispered Kel, her eyes like saucers. " Your brother Thom."

Alanna's heart twisted. She nodded, set her teeth and carried on. "But Thom is... dead, and few now have power like his. I have the same raw Gift, but nothing like his training. A knight is a warrior first and foremost, Keladry. Remember that always."

Kel nodded slowly, thinking. "But do you suspect foul play?"

Alanna managed to summon a small smile. "The King's Champion, my dear, always suspects foul play." She hurried off to saddle her Darkmoon.



Kel sighed and mounted Peachblossom. Her doubts were almost gone.



Alanna would have envied her her peace of mind. She was thinking about the council meeting the night before, at which Jonathan had raised the very same question. He had told them of his decision that the only palace mages powerful enough to get through the protective spells that he and Alanna had put on Thayet were himself and Alanna together and Numair Salmalín.

"Numair!" Alanna remembered exclaiming "That's absurd! He's one of my best friends! He's totally loyal to the crown!"

Jonathan had silenced her with a hand on hers. "Alanna, I remember saying exactly the same of Roger." He paused, saw eyes open wide and heads nod. "At the oasis after the Black City. I laughed at your suspicions then, and you were right. Can't you give mine a chance?"

"But... Numair..."

"But... Roger..."

Alanna had laughed sheepishly. "You win, Jon. All the same..."

"It might be a natural illness. It might be from a sorcerer we don't know. But it might just as well be Numair. Please, Alanna! Don't let us quarrel!"

"No, Jon. I'm your vassal - always. I'll never forget that again."

At dawn, the whole company of pages were assembled in the yard. Kel looked at the procession, pleased. Alanna and a tall Bazhir - "Hakim Fahrar" whispered Neal, noticing where her eyes were resting - were at the front, followed by Daine and Numair on a horse and pony swung about with equipment, then the fourth-year pages, thirds, seconds - including Kel and Neal - and last, the first-years looking very uncomfortable. The Stump was trotting up and down the ranks, looking for a horse out of line, a too-long stirrup or a loose saddle in the chattering hordes. Finally he nodded once and took his place at the head.

"Pages," cried the Bazhir, raising his sword. " Move out!"

The two long ranks of pages began to ride, slowly out of the stableyard, slowly onto the road. Kel shivered a little with excitement. Neal leant back in his saddle, one elegantly lazy hand on the reins; but Kel saw through his show. He too was glad and a little nervous as they rode into the grey dawn.