Chapter Eleven



Not even Quinden laughed. Frozen to their seats with embarrassment, only Neal of all the pages dared to whisper.

"I'll ask Master Oakbridge tomorrow, what is the etiquette when your teacher bursts into tears in the middle of a lesson. And if it makes any difference when said teacher is the most powerful mage in the country."

"You dare - Nealan! You just dare!"

What Neal would have replied is lost, for at that moment Numair Salmalín got to his feet. Tired he seemed and old, as if his grief weighed more than the world which Hercules had borne for so short a time.

"I apologise profusely, pages" he said, his very voice a shadow. "Now, if you have any more questions, please do not hesitate to ask them."

During the two or three questions that came before the hour bell, Numair recovered himself a little. But all through the day nobody gossipped about Alanna the Lioness - the tall mage's grief had touched them all.

Alanna's chamber was busy, thronged with healers and priests, reminding Myles irresistibly of that scene so many years ago when it was Jonathan on that bed and Alanna - or 'Alan' as she was known then - in charge. Now the roles were reversed -- it was Alanna dying and Jonathan preparing to take a last chance,.

Eleni walked in from the small connecting chamber, pale but composed, and the priests and under-healers left the room. Only Eleni remained. The woman knelt by the Lady Knight's head, placing her hands lightly upon the unconscious Champion's face. She sank into meditation as if it were a sea of violets, soft, enfolding calm. Looking deep inside herself, she lifted up the strong core of her Gift. Carefully she carried it, mental hands gentle, to her stepdaughter and inside: the trace of white fire left in life-drained Alanna flowed into the tall white pillar of Eleni's life-force.



The women joined, two lives, two memories, two personalities flowing into one. How different were the twain, now one! Oh Alanna, lucky knight! Value your friends, see what they have done for you!

Alanna was the weaker of the two after her draining, and Eleni tried to sort everything out before the woman strengthened. However, her task was made difficult by her awareness of Alanna's memories. Trying to wade through the eyebrow-raising revelations about her son as a friend, lover and husband - especially that! - was horribly hard, but the iron self-control of Myles' wife saved her. Quickly she divided the life force into two equal parts, stoking each with a handful of her Gift. The next task was harder and she had to wait until her Alanna-self was stronger.

It's tiring being Two and One, she thought to the other half of Herself. Shall we separate?

Yes, agreed the Alanna-part.

Together, they went through their memories, each taking their own. Each found that some were unforgettable, instantly recognisable: for both, holding their babies in their arms for the first time; for Eleni, feeling the raw power in twelve-year-old Page 'Alan' of Trebond; for Alanna, being adopted into the Bazhir Bloody Hawk and by Myles. Each found that some could have come from either, and they had to sort out whose was whose - for if, when the two were again separate, one had part of the other... they would be linked, with the whole-self link that no human body can bear for long.

After memories came soul and after soul, essence, life, Gift, mind, thoughts, emotions. When each life force was surrounded with the separate lives and minds of the two, each picked up their lives with light mental hands. Slowly they drew their hands back into their bodies. Then up, out of meditation they swam.



Standing outside the chamber, Myles, George, the King and Duke Baird had shuffled their feet and avoided each other's eyes. After ten forevers, they had given up and gone into the healing room.

The fright they had got had nearly given Eleni four other patients. Because, but for the fact that one was on the bed and the other on the floor, the two women looked like twins. Although not voicing their suspicions, each had suspected the same: that they had grown too similar. That Eleni would be unable to break the link. For three hours they had watched the eerie pair, lying and kneeling so still, barely breathing. Then, with a sudden jolt, the women had looked their old selves - though Alanna's always-plain features had been softened a little and Eleni's slim figure had been slightly thickened. Not that any of the men noticed these trifling differences, the ways in which the two would now always look like sisters! For at that moment, Alanna opened her eyes, sat up, yawned and stretched.

"Hello, everyone! I'm so sleepy..."

"Sleep, Alanna," said Jonathan, crossing to her bed. "But first, thank you. I knew in those terrible days how Father must have felt so long ago. You didn't save only Thayet... you saved me as well."

"Isn't that my job, Jon?" murmured the King's Champion with a smile.

"When will you be up, Alanna?" asked Numair. He was standing over her, looking down with a face like the happy summer sun. On her other side sat Daine, as contented and happy as a cat who had stolen the cream.

"No more than a week away, I think," replied Alanna. "At least, I sincerely hope so. I do think Baird could make a bit of an effort and heal me a bit faster! The longer I lie here doing nothing, the longer it'll take me to get properly fit again. My muscles have turned to water! I'm sure I couldn't even lift my sword, even now!"

"Well, you won't be going away for a bit, anyway. I'm glad you'll be up in less than a fortnight. I can't tell you how glad I am! We are, I mean."

"Numair, what in Crooked God's name are you going on about?"

He looked pained. Daine stood up and crossed to him. "What am I talking about? My dear! I just wanted to tell you..." he looked fondly down at Daine "...that this lovely girl has at last consented to be my wife."



"Daine! Numair! Congratulations!" yelled Alanna joyfully. "And the wedding's in a fortnight?"

"You've got it! Daine said last week, when I asked her, that she would marry me at last. She said that I'd been pestering her for so long she thought I mustn't mind that she was too young, after all!" The hour bell clanged - the fourth bell.

"Mithros, Mynoss and Shakith! I've got a class now!" exclaimed the most powerful mage in Tortall and galloped away.

Daine waited until the door had closed behind her lover before she leaned closer to her friend.

"Actually, that's not the only reason," she said softly. "Not my only reason, anyway..." Her hand slid from the knight's coverlet to rest meaningfully upon her stomach.

Alanna sat immediately bolt upright in bed - a proceeding utterly forbidden, of course, by the Chief Healer! - with a mixture of shock and glee. "Daine! You're barely more than eighteen! Really?"

"I'm fairly sure. But you're the first person I've told."

"Not even Numair?"

"Numair! Are you crazy? He won't know till long after we're married. I don't want to be fussed over, or it to be broadcast all over the palace!"

"A wise precaution... though aren't you just a little hard on him?"

"I'm not blaming him, but he's hardly adept at keeping a secret! Look at what happened in Carthak!"

"You're probably right. You know him better than I."

Conversation languished for a while after that, until Daine said thoughtfully,

"I hope Baird lets you come to the wedding!"

Alanna snorted. "That mouse of a healer! He won't, far too much excitement, but I wouldn't miss it for the world! Rest assured, my dear, whatever he says I shall be there. By the way, is it a secret that you're getting married?"

"Not at all, but don't let the other slip. Not to anyone!"

At that moment, Duke Baird walked in.

"Hello, Daine!" he said. "Alanna, you need to rest."

"All right, sir," replied Alanna, unusually meek. "But you will let me go to Daine's wedding in two weeks, won't you!"

Challenged thus, the duke could hardly refuse. But what he could do, he did, to wit, chasing Daine out of the room and ordering Alanna to go to sleep. She smiled as she drifted off, conceding the small battle as just payment for the important one.