Chapter 7: Turned


Alanna of Pirate's Swoop and Olau looked out of the window in apprehension. From her vantage point she could see five men in shabby clothing approaching the gates of the keep at Buzzard Rocks. One of the men, tall with a brown beard and long unkempt hair, held a white flag aloft in the steady breeze.

Against her advice, Lord Riben, baron of Buzzard Rocks, had agreed to meet with a group of the raiders to try and facilitate a truce. Normally, Alanna would have been in favor of negotiation, but the mysterious circumstances surrounding these raider attacks settled uneasily in her mind. The battle surrounding the township had been raging for days when the Champion had arrived with her reinforcements, and although the fighting had since slightly turned in their favor since her arrival, the raiders had shown no real signs of weakness. They seemed to suffer no extraordinary losses, and whatever magical dampeners they'd imposed to prevent communication by Gift were still holding strong. This sudden entreat for peace set Alanna's nerves on edge. Why now? she wondered as she watched the gates swing open and allow the enemy inside the keep's walls. Why on earth would they be so willing to negotiate now?


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Despite being Commander in Chief of the Queen's Riders, Buriram Tourakam had no great affinity for days-long horseback rides. They made her cranky.

Three days of riding through dense forest had made her entire company cranky, as a matter of fact. None of the Riders craved battle, but they were more than ready to sacrifice life and limb for Tortall when the need was there. According to the King's limited reports, the situation surrounding Fief Malven was desperate, and all were anxious to go to the aid of those trapped within the city.

As the top of the tower at Malven finally became visible above the treetops, Buri breathed a sigh of mixed relief and dread. The closer they got to the city, the unmistakable noises of warfare became distinguishable from the wind rushing noisily through the thick foliage of the forest. Metal clanged against metal, and human cries of anger and pain rang through the air.


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At Lord Riben's urging, Alanna had agreed to be present during the truce talks with the raiders. Still very disapproving of the baron's decision to allow the enemy inside his fief in the first place, the Lioness refused to sit at the conference table with the raiders, choosing instead to lean menacingly against the fireplace of the baron's study, glaring at the men, her hand curled around the handle of her sword.

The brown haired man who held the white flag tightly in his grubby fingers eyed the lady knight warily before turning his muddy eyes to Lord Riben's round face.

We ain't much the talkin' kind, m'lord, he began in a grating voice. But we do bring sompin' veeery interestin' to the table fer ya.

Riben leaned forward in his chair, his honest eagerness to defend his people betraying itself in his kind blue eyes. Alanna sighed. Here was a man whose heart would always get in the way of his battle tactics. Not necessarily a character flaw, but definitely something to be watchful of considering his status as military leader of Buzzard Rocks.

The Lioness moved to stand behind the baron and placed a hand on his shoulder. These men were unarmed, yes, and a host of the Own stood just outside the study as backup, but there was just something in the air that made Alanna gently pull Riben out of the reach of these foul folk.

The muddy-eyed raider glared at the Lioness as he stood. Fer that matter, Lady Knight, we ave sompin that'll interest you as well. At his words, the remaining four men rose to their feet as well. Alanna's hand went immediately to her sword and she stepped protectively in front of the baron.

Take your seats, good sirs. she hissed. All five men smiled.



Immediately, five sour-looking mouths opened and greenish-yellow smoke billowed out. Instinct taking over, Alanna promptly opened the door to the hall and thrust Riben through it to safety. The knights of the King's Own burst into the room, and became engulfed in the smoke as they tried in vain to knock the raiders to the floor.

Still gripping the white flag, the muddy-eyed raider grabbed Alanna's wrist and pushed her up against a wall. Gleefully looking into her furious violet eyes, he grinned widely, showing off broken yellow teeth.

M'lady Uusoae will be most honored to ave ya as one of er own, Lioness. he said.

Alanna's eyes widened as her increasingly foggy brain began to connect the sickly colored smoke to the goddess' name.

Great Mother, she thought in a panic, It's Chaos magic! Realizing she had to get this information back to Corus, a sudden burst of adrenaline filled her and she burst from her attacker's hold.

Alanna bolted through the door and was halfway down the corridor to the keep's foyer when Sir Timothy of Yarrow, a lieutenant of the King's Own, ran from the smoke-filled study to catch up to her and grab her roughly by the arm. He whipped her around to face him, and when his Chaos filled eyes met hers, Alanna understood why the raiders' ranks never seemed to diminish. Mithros, they're turning our own people against us!

With all her strength, she wrenched free and kicked Timothy in the groin. Hard. Dirty play, yes, but a lady knight does what she must.

A moan from behind her drew her attention and she turned in time to see Lord Riben's formerly cheerful face twisted into a countenance of agony as bile-like smoke poured into his nose and mouth. Torn between a fight she knew she couldn't win, and the knowledge that she was the only one who stood a chance of getting out of Buzzard's Rocks untainted, Alanna's logic prevailed and she took off running down the corridor towards the exit into the courtyard.

She continued running to the stables where her horse, Darkmoon, was nervously thrashing about in his stall. He calmed enough for his mistress to mount him, and then horse and rider bolted for the still-open gates of the keep.

Raiders stood in messy battle formations about the walls of the keep, and Alanna urged Darkmoon even faster as he wove between the attackers, narrowly avoiding a thousand arrows aimed their way. The horse's gold mane and tail flashed in the too-bright sunlight as he shot down the road away from Buzzard Rocks towards the capital, an uncharacteristically shaken Lioness clinging to his back.


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As Buri and her company of Riders emerged from the forest into the clearing-turned-battlefield that surrounded Malven, she was briefly heartened to recognize that the first and second divisions of the Own were already present, and fighting furiously. Letting loose an ear-shattering K'miri war cry, Buri drew her long, slender sword and signaled her units to charge. Her eyes scanned the battlefield for a sight of Raoul as her horse galloped towards it, and when she saw his familiar muscular shape silhouetted against the frenzy of the fight, her heart leapt to her throat in spite of herself.

She was about to go to him, about to strike down the man his blade was aimed at until she realized with a start that Raoul's opponent wore the red and white characteristic of the Fief Malven militia. She halted her steed and looked carefully at the throng surrounding her. Everywhere she saw a knight of the Own, he was locked in battle against a Malven or a member of the Queen's Riders. Confused and beginning to panic, Buri made to raise her sword again to signal to her ranks to pull back and make for the tower where they could make sense of the situation.

Strong hands suddenly took hold of her legs and Buri was hauled bodily from her pony and pinned roughly to the ground. Her eyes filled with tears as Raoul of Goldenlake's face appeared above her. He smiled cruelly at her sadness and confusion, and bent his head to kiss her. Sparkling yellow and green fire flowed like water from his lips he ground his mouth painfully against hers. Buri's eyes went wide and tears spilled down her face as her body convulsed with pain as Chaos filled her heart and mind.


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Hand in hand, Daine and Numair moved silently through the woods toward the gates of Port Legann. The fact that the raiders were nowhere in sight made the pair very nervous as they approached their destination.

Once at the entrance of the port, the watchmen let them in and they made their way to the rooms of Lord Imrah, the baron of Legann.

Master Numair! the baron said in his gravelly voice as he answered the door of his library to the mage's knock. You have been gone for over a day! We thought you'd met with some ill fortune.

So I have, Numair answered gravely, walking into the oak-paneled room and dropping into an armchair wearily. But some favorable fortune has found me as well. he winked discreetly at Daine who blushed prettily and extended a hand in greeting to Imrah.

My Lord Imrah, may I present my student, Veralidaine Sarrasri. the baron's pudgy hand grasped Daine's in a too-tight handshake and then released it awkwardly after a few jerky pumps. Daine's immediate unease of this man was only furthered when she felt the cat laying at the fireplace's hearth bristle at Imrah's presence.

The baron motioned at the armchair next to Numair's and Daine sat, choosing to briefly ignore the men's conversation to open her mind to the cat on the hearthstones.

Hello sister, she extended respectfully to the animal. May I ask if you are well?

The cat immediately rose and leapt into Daine's lap to rub her glossy head against the girl's willing hand. Well enough. she answered. You don't think you could persuade that fat two-legger to feed me more meat, could you?

Daine smiled in spite of herself and stroked the feline's furry ears. I'll see what I can do. What do you think of the fat two-legger, little one? she asked. Is he kind to you?

No. came the reply. He's mean to the kittens the cook keeps in the kitchen, and he never pets me anymore. Lately he smells of blood.

Blood? asked Daine.

Yes. He smells of blood.

Daine cuddled the cat closer in her lap and continued to stroke her ears and she turned her attention to the exchange between Numair and the baron.

So the barrier is truly dissolved, you say? asked Imrah, his bloodshot eyes wide in surprise. How long before the immortals descend upon us?

We've but a day, if that much time. answered the mage, leaning forward in his seat. You see then, my lord why it is imperative that Daine and I set out for Corus at once. Communication by magic is still impossible and we must inform the King of this new treachery.

Of course. the baron's eyes flickered to the cat in Daine's lap in distaste and then fastened back on Numair. I'll have the hostlers ready two horses for you immediately.

Rising from their seats, the man and the girl took their leave of Imrah and went to Numair's temporary rooms to collect his things and to refresh themselves before heading back to the roads.

Once alone, Daine shared the cat's thoughts on Imrah with Numair.

He rubbed his eyes wearily before he voiced his response to the young woman's news. Believe me, sweet. I'm not discounting either of your impressions of Lord Imrah, but he has been a loyal servant to the crown for all his time as baron of Legann.

Daine sighed and sat tiredly on the edge of Numair's bed. Your right, of course. But I just can't shake this feeling I have. People never smell anything that doesn't physically exist. And Imrah's cat said that he smells of blood. I don't like it, Numair. Something is very wrong about this whole situation. Something is brewing and I don't care to wait around and let it blow up.

Numair took a break from packing his numerous scrolls and books to come sit by his young love and put an arm about her shoulders.

I trust your judgment more than anyone's, he said, his fingers twining comfortingly with hers. We'll make sense of this. We just have to get to the palace in enough time to avert the disaster the immortals are sure to bring.


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The guard at the entrance to the Royal Palace ran from his post to greet the familiar horse that galloped up to the gates. Darkmoon cantered to the doors of the palace and an exhausted Alanna dropped to the ground from the saddle. The door opened and King Jonathan, Queen Thayet, Onua, and Sarge all hurriedly emerged to see what was happening. Alanna lay motionless in the dust until Sarge cautiously lifted her in his enormous arms. As he shifted her, the deep gash in the Lioness' side was revealed to her shocked friends.