Okay, I've rather skipped this for awhile, but here goes.

1. Nothing belongs to me. Nothing. Rien. Nichts. Nada.

2. Thank you very much to my reviewers. Responses coming up...

Reava: thanks a lot for your reviews and the good advice (the fic's now changing its name more times than Royal Mail!), and there is some D/N fluff, as well as some more romance coming up - well, there's rather more angsty than fluffy romance, but don't despair!

Clarylissa: thank you, here you are!

No Comment: thanks awfully for the batch of really good, well-thought out and above all (!) Nice reviews. Hope the rest is up to standard. (I was rather keen on "not too bad... only three weeks in the armoury" myself!)

Thank you again to you all!



Chapter Twelve



On that Thursday evening of Daine's visit to the knight, the group in Neal's bedroom hardly merited its name of 'study'. 'Screaming with joy' would have been more accurate, because the news of the Lioness' remarkable recovery had reached them by supper time. The wide grin on each face and marked lack of writing on the parchments before them spoke for themselves; Neal alone was glum. At last the direct Faleron, tired of the monosyllabic replies and mile from crown to chin, rushed in where nobody had dared to tread.

"Neal, what in the name of all the Realms is the matter?"

"Oh... nothing."

Kel looked at Faleron. "You can't get away with that. We aren't stupid: we're your friends. We can tell you're upset. Stop lying - what's the matter?"

"Nothing, I tell you! I... well... I suppose... oh well, if you have to know, she's marrying him."

After a moment to work out the owners of the scrambled pronouns - no very onerous task, since Neal's besottion was common knowledge - most of the pages burst out laughing. Kel's heart, though, ached. She could imagine Neal's pain, she knew how much he felt for the wildmage; but she also knew that the object of his affections was deeply in love with the black-robe sorcerer.

"Neal... it'll make no difference to her. Not about you... she's always been committed to him... " was the only crumb of comfort she could find. Cold indeed! But Roald smiled encouragement at her and her heart quickened. Blessing the Yamanis, she kept her face fairly impassive.

Merric also seemed to specialise in ice. "Why don't you just chirk up a bit? There are plenty of young ladies at Court just dying to meet a tall dark stranger!"

"Oh yes. And they're really going to stay interested with a page! Especially the freak who chose to start five years later than any sane boy in the realm, especially with the half-wizard, half-warrior who can't settle to anything, especially with this tongue!"

"SHUT UP!" yelled Kel, suddenly sickened. "You chose to start late! You chose to leave your mage's training! You choose to answer back! Stop complaining to us about your choices! Go back and train, if that's what you want! Or settle to this, become a knight. Everyone loves a handsome young knight!"

All her friends stared at her. She blushed deeply, but gave them look for look. She wasn't ashamed...

"Yes. Well..." remarked Roald, winded in thought if not in body. "Yes..."

Surprisingly, this didn't spark a discussion. Silence continued.

"Did you know, we're going to protect the second attempt at spidren talks the day after tomorrow?" remarked Cleon, grinning with delight at having found a subject to which to change.

"Talks." stated Neal. "Led by whom?"

"Neal." said Kel, keeping her voice cool, low and steady. "Cheer up. Or shut up. We're not particularly bothered either way.

"Has it really only been two weeks since the first talks, Merric? It feels as if it were much, much longer."

"No, it's been two weeks right enough... um, please can you help me with this awful algebra?"

So the talking, working and assisting went on, just as it had before... only Neal remained aloof. He sat on the corner of his bed and worked in sulky silence. His friends ignored him.

The day of the talks soon dawned, bright and fair. The pages and Numair were getting ready to leave but Daine slipped off, up to visit Alanna as she had taken to doing in the morning.

"Hello, Daine! Come and sit down!"

Daine did as she was told with a grin. "It's the talks today, the second attempt at them, did you know?"

"Spidrens? Of course it is! Splendid! The best of luck... and don't be offended at Wyldon. He can't help being a so-and-so. Don't let him get to you, and don't give him an opening in you can help it."

"Oh, I don't plan to! Though it might be a little hard..."

"Daine, you need to see a healer sometime soon, you know."

"Yes, but when? And whom should it be? I don't know any healing women."

"Ask Baird. He knows all the healers in the realm, I do believe!"

Daine laughed and took her leave. She'd spent too much time there already. The search for a healing woman would have to be done some other day.

They rode for three long hours. Kel talked to the Prince, to Merric, to Seaver, to Faleron and to Cleon, but nobody talked to Neal. He was still sulking from Kel's plain speaking. She, for her part, felt horribly guilty about him, though all their friends assured her that she had done the right thing.

Again, the pages were paired. Kel was less lucky this time. She was paired with Zahir. The tall, cruel Bazhir lost no time in pinching, poking, punching, pushing her. She stood still, stoically enduring.

Stone, she whispered to herself, chanting it. Stone. No response. No feeling. Stone. Minding nothing. I'll last when he's long gone. He can't do anything. It'll all be the same a hundred years hence. I am stone. Stone. Stone...

A particularly hard push sent her stumbling out of line. It was just her luck that Wyldon was coming up the line at that moment, inspecting the otherwise-immaculately lined up pages.

"Page Keladry!" he shouted. "You stepped out of line! Have you an explanation?"

Explanations are excuses, Kel reminded herself. One takes what comes to one. "No, sir."

"Did you step out of line, Page Keladry? If not, what happened?"

"I slipped, sir."

"Ah. Take more care for the moment. Report to me at the noon bell, on the day on which we get back."

"Yes, sir."

He moved on. Kel, facing inwards, saw the spidrens enter. So did many others, all of whom shivered, gulped or yelped. Daine stepped forward.

"We come again, honoured sirs. Have you thought over our propositions from the last, unsuccessful talks?"

"We have." replied the Scanran who had been the spokesman before, still rolling his 'r's. "First, though, we wish to apologise for the unfortunate interruption to the last talks. Those who caused it have been severely punished."

Daine bowed. Glad it's not much later on! she thought. "I thank you for your concern. What is your answer to the terms we proposed?"

The talks went on all day with no interruptions. By the end of the day, the spidrens had agreed to stay in a small area in the north, in the Grimhold mountains near Scanra. Fief Trebond was given the charge of keeping them inside their area - Daine grinned at the thought of telling Alanna that!

They camped that night and Daine ironed out small misunderstandings in the morning. By the time they left, Kel was black-and-blue from Zahir's cruel pinches and Neal was still holding himself aloof.