A/N: Ok, here is yet another chappy for you....I must say, I'm very pleased with the amount of reviews I'm getting!! Thank you so much, you're too kind! Don't think that you can suddenly stop reviewing now though. If the reviews stop, then I stop. Got that clear? Good. Now we can move on to the chapter....
One last thing. I got a hint saying that the tension between Alanna and Numair is OOC and I totally agree. This chapter is going to be the last chapter that contains any of it. I had to do it once or twice because I felt it added to the story and because their personalities remind of ones that would clash. With that answered, I hope you understand why I put Alanna/Numair tension in this chappy....
Disclaimer: I've gotten lazy about these. You know the drill. I don't own any of this yada yada yada and so on and so fourth....*yawns* Ok, that was boring so we'll move on now.
I now present to you what you came here for. Drum roll please! *drum roll sounds* I give you, chapter 7 of Gallan Return!
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Last View:
Daine and Numair entered the fort, only to immediately hear the sound of rushed foot steps. They both looked around expectantly, but saw nothing. It wasn't until they heard a familiar, annoyed voice that they knew they'd been caught by more than just the guard. Alanna came rushing to them from behind the shadows after having run down from the watch tower. She gasped for breath from having run. She cleared her throat. "Where were you two?!" She asked, her eyes alive with a dangerous fire, the purple color glowing.
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Daine's mind was rushing with confusion at the sound of Alanna's frantic voice. They had been caught and she knew it. There seemed to be no way out of this, at least no way that Daine could think of fast enough. They would need a good explanation to explain this, and they needed it now. How could anyone find a way to explain leaving for a walk sometime around midday and then returning in the late hours of the night? The worst part was, it hadn't just been herself out for a walk. She had gone along with Numair into the woods into the late hours of the night, unchaperoned and alone. To even the most nieve person, this would seem like a love affair in every way. There was no hiding it. -I can't exactly say that it isn't what's going on because it is,- Daine reminded herself with some amusement. If the court thought that Daine and Numair were more than just student and teacher, then they would be right.
Luckily for both Daine and Numair, who did not by any means want their secret revealed, Numair was able to work out a solution right on the spot. " I'm sorry if we've worried you, Alanna. Daine and I decided to have a lesson somewhere private where things are quiet and we just, well, fell asleep," Numair made his excuse plainly. If Daine hadn't known what had really happened and what Numair was trying to hide, she would have believed him. He was very convincing. She could have kissed him for his own genius. It was their own poor luck though, that this particular lady knight was a hard one to convince.
Alanna raised an eye brow at the two, not at all forgetting about her previous suspicions. The situation she had just discovered was not in their favor either. What Numair said sounded truthful, but she got the distinct feeling that neither were as innocent as they were pretending to be. "Numair Salmalin, what were you thinking getting yourself into another mess of gossip?!" Alanna voiced both her anger and her feelings of being unconvinced. In any case, she planned to give him an ear full, Daine too as soon as she had finished with him. "And not so long after the last time, too!" Alanna spat, not ever breaking eye contact with the mage. She didn't bother looking at Daine, but on instinct, she new the girl's face was a deep shade of crimson. "If you couldn't have thought of your own reputation, then the least you could have done was thought of Daine's!" Alanna knew her words were harsh, but it was something he had to hear, Daine as well. Even if they weren't secret lovers as she suspected, they had put themselves in a very convincing position, one that the court would not ignore. By tomorrow, the whole fort will have heard of it.
Alanna's last statement struck a chord in Numair's heart. He knew Alanna was right, but her harsh words enraged him all the same. He felt anger boil up inside of him. He squeezed his hands shut into fists at his side until his knuckles turned white. "Now see here, Alanna! May Mithros curse the day when I can't be trusted to accompany Daine on a short walk without the court throwing us into a bed!" Numair hissed back, his anger rising all the further. He felt Daine's hand rest on his shoulder, trying to calm him down.
"That's nothing but folly, Numair and you know it!" Alanna replied, dumbfounded by his words. "It was no short walk! You left around midday and you've returned just in time for the midnight bell!"
"I already told you, Alanna! We fell asleep!" Numair argued back, not willing to let this drop. He would save Daine from gossip if it was the last thing he did. He feared he was too late though, and it was his own fault.
"I know that, and you know that, but the court doesn't! They've put you two in bed since you first became friends! You of all people should know that and should avoid giving them any sort of reason to jump to such conclusions!" Alanna was losing her temper, and she knew it. At this point she didn't care. What Numair had done was unreasonable, and the consequences for his foolishness would come in the morning, she knew.
"I don't care what the god's cursed court thinks!" Numair yelled in his final defense. He sighed heavily and raised his hands to his face to try to push back the anger and contain himself.
"That's being fair selfish, Numair Salmalin! You very well may not care about a reputation you lost long ago, but what about Daine? In his case, you're responsible for both of your good names!" Alanna said angrily. One looks in his eyes told her that she'd gone too far. Though her anger didn't subside in the slightest bit, she knew from his sad eyes that she'd hurt her friend deeply.
"How can you even begin say that I don't care about her?" he didn't even try to hide the hurt from his voice. She'd struck a painful chord in his heart. Though Alanna didn't know it, he often thought of himself as a monster for keeping Daine to himself and not letting someone of her own age have her as she so deserved.
"Sometimes its hard to see that you do," Alanna had only dug her hole deeper.
"Will you two stop it?" Daine spoke up finally, stress and worry evident in her voice. "For your information, Alanna, I don't care what the court thinks because no matter what I do, they'll still think it. What you said about Numair isn't at all true and you know it!"
Alanna stared at her feet, wondering what to say. When she'd first come down to them, she'd been filled with anger. Now, she felt filled with shame at what she'd said to her friends. Though most of it was true, she'd been too harsh. "Numair, Daine, I'm sorry I was harsh, but you have to understand that I only said those things because I care," Alanna did her best to rectify her actions. "I love you both as my friends and it hurts me to hear what the nobles at court say about you. When I saw you two coming back from the forest at this hour, I knew that it was only a matter of time before the entire fort knew about it and soon the whole court."
"Don't you think we know that and that we can handle it? We've only been gossiped about for the whole time we've known each other!" Numair said this with a slight grin. Alanna was pleased to see that his anger seemed to have faded away. It seemed that Daine knew best how to calm her lanky friend. -But is he just her friend?- Alanna questioned herself. Rubbing away such thoughts for the time being, Alanna allowed her mind to return to the present.
"You do some fair foolish things at times," Alanna pointed out quickly. Numair sighed and nodded, not at all denying that she was right.
"I'll agree with that any day," Daine added with a slight laugh, lightening the tense mood. At her side, she could feel Numair let out a breath he had been holding in, letting his body relax. She was glad their little spat hadn't gone any farther than need be. She hated it when her friends fought. She always ended up in the middle of things, and it was far from pretty.
"I don't deny it," Numair reached up an arm to scratch the top of his head, ruffling his hair into a mess. A grin was planted on his face that said he forgave Alanna, and that was better than words to the knight.
"We'd best be getting to bed, Numair," Daine prompted edging her head toward their sleeping quarters. She yawned to emphasis her point and to pull herself out of this awkward moment with Alanna.
"Very true, my Magelet," he said in response, mimicking her yawn.
"I suppose I should be heading off to bed as well," Alanna chimed in. "I'll see the two of you at breakfast. I'm assuming that Jon will be wanting you back at the palace soon, so a messenger will likely come to summon you."
"And I couldn't be more thankful," Daine replied, sighing. Alanna looked at her quizzically.
"At some point or another, you've been to just about every major fort in Tortall, Daine, and this is by far the best. Why are you in such a hurry to leave it?" Alanna asked with some amusement. She always found her young friend's train of though to be an excellent source of entertainment.
"That may be true, but I'll still feel all the better as soon as I'm back at my rooms at the palace and can breath freely. Staying at a fort, even one so nice as this reminds me of war." Daine answered her friend's question.
"Yes, I for one agree with that," Numair added.
"I suppose you're right, Daine," Alanna said, thinking on the young woman's words. "War's taken its toll on me and I'm fair sure its that last thing I even want to think about now that its over." There was a brief moment of silence in which none of the trio spoke. Just the word war brought back painful memories of the battles fought not all that long ago. With war came pain and many things that anyone involved wanted very dearly to forget, but likely never would. " Well, as I was saying, I'd best be off to bed," Alanna said quickly, breaking the awkward silence. "I'm expected to be up with the sun and its getting fair late, and I need my sleep. I'll see you two in the morning." With that said, Alanna turned and left the two standing by the fort's side door. For a moment, they just stood there, not really sure what to do.
"We'd best do the same, Magelet," Numair said quietly.
"All right," Daine replied.
Without another word to one another, Daine and Numair headed off to the Healer's Wing where they had first slept, both silently wishing that very little would come of their night's escapade. Perhaps in the morning they would receive news as to when they could return home. Daine hoped so, for she missed the palace. Not that Legann was uncomfortable to her, she just preferred familiar surroundings.
Yawning one last time and muttering to Numair to have a good night, Daine slid into her cot, pulling her single blanket over herself and ruffling her pillow until it was comfortable. She closed her eyes and sent herself into a dream filled sleep.
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(A/N: This next scene takes place in Galla, specifically in its capital at the palace in Jerkins.....)
"Feron!" roared the voice of King Jarlath of Jerkins, Galla. He was rather flustered at the moment, and that emotion came out clearly in his harsh tone. Of course that was the tone he often used with his servants and almost everyone else. It was how he'd been raised and it was what he'd become.
" Y-yes, Your Highness?" the servant whom Jarlath had summoned for came racing to his King. Drops of sweat were forming on his face. Jarlath always had a way of making everyone around him feel intimidated. The man always wore a frown, his eyes blazing with fire.
"What time of day is it?" Jarlath's voice was rough and annoyed. He looked Feron directly in the eye, driving the man further into confusion.
"Just around midday, Majesty," Feron replied meekly, knowing full well what the King's question meant.
"And what happens everyday at this time that did not happen today?" Jarlath's eyes bore into Feron's asking a silent challenge. He smiled in amusement, watching the servant's body tremble with fear. It pleased him that his servants knew he was to be feared, that he wouldn't hesitate to punish them harshly for any wrongs committed.
"I-I don't know, Majesty," Feron's eyes now darted down to look at the floor. He hung his head low in shame. This was the third time this week he'd failed the King, and Jarlath wasn't likely going to be pleased about it.
"The news, you fool! The news!" Jarlath spat, letting all withheld anger spill out. He rose from his chair that he sat in, moving away from the desk.
"Oh, yes, the news!" Feron said, eyes lighting up in recognition. "Forgive me, Your Highness, for so foolishly forgetting my duties," Feron silently prayed that Jarlath wouldn't lose his temper any more than he already had. Feron had learned through the years that it was not wise to bet a single copper on any unfortunate fellow who did wind up on the King of Galla's bad side.
"Well?!" Jarlath spat, not at all letting his harsh tone decrease. "Where is it?!"
"Right here, Majesty," Feron said, fishing into his tunic for the documents. He'd gone and collected them before his morning meal and had placed them within his tunic for safe keeping. He was known for losing things, and the last time he'd lost the King's mail, Jarlath had had him flogged. That was not an experience Feron was keen on repeating. Feron handed the letters over to the King, who snatched them from him eagerly. Feron knew what particular letter he was so eager to find. It was a response from Carthak. Several weeks ago, Jarlath had gotten in contact with Emperor Kaddar Siraj of Carhak and proposed that his son, Prince Aidan of Jerkins, Galla, be betrothed to Emperor Kaddar's niece, Lady Amira of Siraj. It would mean making a treaty with Carthak, one of the two main neighboring countries who hadn't made alliances with Galla. The remaining powerful neighboring country was that of Tortall.
Jarlath fumbled through the large stack of letters until he found one with the royal Carthaki seal, a growling hyena, on it. He quickly tore through the wax, not even bothering to reach into his desk for his gold letter opener. There was no time for such delicacies. No, this was important information that Jarlath had waited weeks for. The letter was soon open, and his eyes darted from left to right as he frantically read its contents.
To Whom It May Concern,
I, Emperor Kaddar Siraj of Carthak, regret to inform you that I must decline your betrothal proposal for my niece. There is already a marriage lined up for her to a Tortallan noble. I hope that you do not take offense to this, for I am still willing to consider peace negotiations with Galla.
-Emperor Kaddar Siraj of Carthak
Jarlath crumbled the letter up in anger, eyes blazing. "How dare he?!" he pounded his fist down on his desk. Feron flinched at the King's reaction. It could mean only one thing, Aidan's betrothal wasn't going to happen. The King had been trying to get his son betrothed to a noble of a powerful nation for years, and had so far been unsuccessful. Most surrounding countries thought Galla to be weak, and thus useless to be connected to through marriage. "How dare that-that child, decline my proposal?!" the King's voice roared throughout all the halls and rooms within ear shot of his study. In his rage, Jarlath reached for anything he could find, and threw it aimlessly across the room and into the wall.
Feron watched helplessly and fearfully as his King made a mess of his own study. Things were becoming quite a mess that Feron knew he would be in charge of cleaning up. He was Jarlath's personal servant. Each of the royal monarchs had their own servant and Feron had been unfortunate enough to become the King's. -I should be thankful I'm not the boy's- Feron assured himself quickly, running a nervous finger through his strands of gray tinged hair. He ducked quickly and with little grace so as to miss a flying vase. "That one was particularly expensive," Feron muttered under his breath, annoyed.
After a while, and not before the King's study was in shambles, leaving no item unthrown, Jarlath calmed down a bit. He threw himself down into his black leather chair and brought it up to meet the desk. He cleared his throat and again began fumbling through the rest of the news. This was how things always went. When Jarlath was in a rage, he would become murderous and destroy Mithros knows what around and would suddenly stop, acting as if nothing had happened. It would, however, be a mistake to think that just because Jarlath acted as though all was well, that everything was indeed well. It was far from that, for Jarlath still boiled inside. It was only a matter of time before he sought revenge on who ever had dared displease him. Feron prayed to the gods for that person, for things often ended in their death.
"What's this?" Jarlath's eyes lit up with interest as he reached a rolled parchment sealed with a red seal. The seal was of a lion that sat on its haunches and roared. Feron recognized it as the Tortallan seal, but obviously his master didn't.
"Don't you recognize the Tortallan seal, Majesty?"Feron asked, silently amused. He paid for his words.
"Silence!" Jarlath roared, pulling his attention from the note to his servant. "You are a servant and I am your master! It is not you place to be rude, Feron! I had hoped you had learned that after your last flogging!"
"Y-yes, Majesty, I-I did," Feron replied, voice shaking with fear. Why had he been so stupid as to provoke Jarlath just after the King had gotten out of one of his rages? His knees now rattles together as he trembled with fear. " I w-was m-merely implying that I knew the seal."
"Fine, fine," Jarlath muttered, signaling with his hands, for Feron to wait in silence. He now turned his full attention back to the Tortallan letter, completely ignoring Feron. His eyes darter across the page with interest as he read.
To Our Royal Cousins In Galla,
I, King Jonathan III of Conte, Tortall, hope to find you well in this time after the Immortal War. This is meant to be a note of status. I will be expecting to receive a similar letter from Galla. Our status is 2,000 dead and 165 missing.
It is my pleasure to announce the death of the stormwing, the once emperor of Carthak, Ozorne. He was killed in battle by Tortallan's own, Wild Mage Veralidaine Sarrasri. The Gallans may know of her, for she was once from Galla. She will be rewarded for her bravery. I would also like to announce of another main enemy's death. That is of Inar Hadensra, killed in a mage's duel by the black robed mage, Numair Salmalin of Tortall.
Yours In Peace,
King Jonathan III
Jarlath lifted his head up from its reading position, his eyes filled with thought. Veralidaine Sarrasri, once of Galla? Wasn't she the young girl that had once been from Snowsdale that had been reported to him years ago? If so, she was the one her village had reported as insane and on the loose. Upon hearing the news, Jarlath had ordered his men to keep an eye out for such a girl. The description he had gotten was thirteen years of age with blue gray eyes and smoky brown curls. To this day he thought that was an outstandingly beautiful profile, though he'd never actually seen the girl. He'd talked with many citizens who had, and they all said she was a brilliant example of feminine beauty, despite her madness.
Then, an angering thought entered his mind. She was a known hero. She had power that none of the Gallan mages possessed. Not only did Tortall have one of the few black robed mages, but they also had the world's most powerful Wild Mage! Galla had not a single mage who possessed even the slightest amount of wild magic! Jarlath felt anger and jealousy cloud his mind to the point where he could think of nothing else. He envisioned how much power Galla would have if Veralidaine was among them. Power was what Jarlath had sought for most of his reign.
Most of Galla's neighboring countries underestimated it. They would never bother with peace treaties with Galla, for they didn't consider Galla a threat. Jarlath had spent many years of his reign negotiating with the surrounding countries, trying to get them to sign minor treaties with Galla. Having alliances with neighboring countries meant power, and power was all that truly mattered to Jarlath. Most of the decisions made by Jarlath, no matter how minor, revolved around gaining power.
The King's ambition to gain power had paid off for Galla over the years. He had indeed gained the support of several powerful neighbors. What's more, not a single nation suspected what a threat Galla had become. From what they knew of the minor country, Galla had a small army, barely fit to defend its borders and a navy fit for sailing in a mere pond. How wrong they were. Jarlath had spent countless days building up the Gallan army, tirelessly making it undefeatable. Soon all would know of how much they had underestimated Galla, and they would regret it. Soon, Jarlath would rule many of the surrounding countries after he had succeeded in conquering them. He would complete what that fool, Ozorne had failed at all those years ago.
" I want the Wild Mage," Jarlath said at last. Feron looked up at the King, startled. Having already gone through the King's letters, Feron knew full well who Jarlath spoke of. "I will have her."
"Shall I have the scribes prepare a letter of peace for you, Majesty?" Feron suggested, eye's alight with interest. It wasn't everyday his King went on a quest to gain a single person, a mere slip of a girl at that.
"No, I think not, Feron," Jarlath said thoughtfully. His lips were parted in an evil grin that sent chills of terror up Feron's spine. "I see it foolish to try to obtain something from peace negotiations that I already have."
Feron was baffled by this statement. What was Jarlath talking about? Veralidaine Sarrasri was on Tortallan soil. How did the King propose the get her? "I'm afraid I don't understand, Majesty," Feron said politely, hoping Jarlath would share his plans with him.
"I didn't expect an uneducated servant such as yourself to understand, Feron, so allow me to explain," Jarlath said, his voice filled with evil pleasure. Feron was shocked at the King's friendly way of speaking to him. It was a rare occurrence that only came around when the King was in an extraordinarily good mood. A mood brought on by some evil scheme. "You see, there is no need for me to beg for something I already have."
"I wasn't aware that any of the Gallan mages had wild magic," Feron said, not understanding Jarlath's true meaning for his words.
"No, no, no!" Jarlath hissed in frustration. At his age and rank, he shouldn't be expected to put up with such foolishness from servants. "Of course none of my mages have wild magic! Its the girl though, Veralidaine Sarrasri. She is Gallan, according to this letter."
"She may be Gallan, Highness, but she is loyal to Tortall," Feron was surprised at his own daring with the King. He would be lucky if he left the King's study without being sent to be flogged for his words.
"I don't care who she is loyal to, Feron!" Jarlath roared, banging his fist down onto his desk. "It doesn't matter how loyal she is to Tortall, she still belongs to Galla! She had not the proper permission to flee to Tortall, thus she left illegally. Lucky for me, I passes that law not long before she fled. Now that I know of her existence, I can order her back."
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A/N: Dun dun dun.....cliffy! And so the plot arrives in this chappy.....I also introduced two new characters that I'm sure you noticed.....don't forget to review or mark my words I will not continue to update!!! ^_^
One last thing. I got a hint saying that the tension between Alanna and Numair is OOC and I totally agree. This chapter is going to be the last chapter that contains any of it. I had to do it once or twice because I felt it added to the story and because their personalities remind of ones that would clash. With that answered, I hope you understand why I put Alanna/Numair tension in this chappy....
Disclaimer: I've gotten lazy about these. You know the drill. I don't own any of this yada yada yada and so on and so fourth....*yawns* Ok, that was boring so we'll move on now.
I now present to you what you came here for. Drum roll please! *drum roll sounds* I give you, chapter 7 of Gallan Return!
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Last View:
Daine and Numair entered the fort, only to immediately hear the sound of rushed foot steps. They both looked around expectantly, but saw nothing. It wasn't until they heard a familiar, annoyed voice that they knew they'd been caught by more than just the guard. Alanna came rushing to them from behind the shadows after having run down from the watch tower. She gasped for breath from having run. She cleared her throat. "Where were you two?!" She asked, her eyes alive with a dangerous fire, the purple color glowing.
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Daine's mind was rushing with confusion at the sound of Alanna's frantic voice. They had been caught and she knew it. There seemed to be no way out of this, at least no way that Daine could think of fast enough. They would need a good explanation to explain this, and they needed it now. How could anyone find a way to explain leaving for a walk sometime around midday and then returning in the late hours of the night? The worst part was, it hadn't just been herself out for a walk. She had gone along with Numair into the woods into the late hours of the night, unchaperoned and alone. To even the most nieve person, this would seem like a love affair in every way. There was no hiding it. -I can't exactly say that it isn't what's going on because it is,- Daine reminded herself with some amusement. If the court thought that Daine and Numair were more than just student and teacher, then they would be right.
Luckily for both Daine and Numair, who did not by any means want their secret revealed, Numair was able to work out a solution right on the spot. " I'm sorry if we've worried you, Alanna. Daine and I decided to have a lesson somewhere private where things are quiet and we just, well, fell asleep," Numair made his excuse plainly. If Daine hadn't known what had really happened and what Numair was trying to hide, she would have believed him. He was very convincing. She could have kissed him for his own genius. It was their own poor luck though, that this particular lady knight was a hard one to convince.
Alanna raised an eye brow at the two, not at all forgetting about her previous suspicions. The situation she had just discovered was not in their favor either. What Numair said sounded truthful, but she got the distinct feeling that neither were as innocent as they were pretending to be. "Numair Salmalin, what were you thinking getting yourself into another mess of gossip?!" Alanna voiced both her anger and her feelings of being unconvinced. In any case, she planned to give him an ear full, Daine too as soon as she had finished with him. "And not so long after the last time, too!" Alanna spat, not ever breaking eye contact with the mage. She didn't bother looking at Daine, but on instinct, she new the girl's face was a deep shade of crimson. "If you couldn't have thought of your own reputation, then the least you could have done was thought of Daine's!" Alanna knew her words were harsh, but it was something he had to hear, Daine as well. Even if they weren't secret lovers as she suspected, they had put themselves in a very convincing position, one that the court would not ignore. By tomorrow, the whole fort will have heard of it.
Alanna's last statement struck a chord in Numair's heart. He knew Alanna was right, but her harsh words enraged him all the same. He felt anger boil up inside of him. He squeezed his hands shut into fists at his side until his knuckles turned white. "Now see here, Alanna! May Mithros curse the day when I can't be trusted to accompany Daine on a short walk without the court throwing us into a bed!" Numair hissed back, his anger rising all the further. He felt Daine's hand rest on his shoulder, trying to calm him down.
"That's nothing but folly, Numair and you know it!" Alanna replied, dumbfounded by his words. "It was no short walk! You left around midday and you've returned just in time for the midnight bell!"
"I already told you, Alanna! We fell asleep!" Numair argued back, not willing to let this drop. He would save Daine from gossip if it was the last thing he did. He feared he was too late though, and it was his own fault.
"I know that, and you know that, but the court doesn't! They've put you two in bed since you first became friends! You of all people should know that and should avoid giving them any sort of reason to jump to such conclusions!" Alanna was losing her temper, and she knew it. At this point she didn't care. What Numair had done was unreasonable, and the consequences for his foolishness would come in the morning, she knew.
"I don't care what the god's cursed court thinks!" Numair yelled in his final defense. He sighed heavily and raised his hands to his face to try to push back the anger and contain himself.
"That's being fair selfish, Numair Salmalin! You very well may not care about a reputation you lost long ago, but what about Daine? In his case, you're responsible for both of your good names!" Alanna said angrily. One looks in his eyes told her that she'd gone too far. Though her anger didn't subside in the slightest bit, she knew from his sad eyes that she'd hurt her friend deeply.
"How can you even begin say that I don't care about her?" he didn't even try to hide the hurt from his voice. She'd struck a painful chord in his heart. Though Alanna didn't know it, he often thought of himself as a monster for keeping Daine to himself and not letting someone of her own age have her as she so deserved.
"Sometimes its hard to see that you do," Alanna had only dug her hole deeper.
"Will you two stop it?" Daine spoke up finally, stress and worry evident in her voice. "For your information, Alanna, I don't care what the court thinks because no matter what I do, they'll still think it. What you said about Numair isn't at all true and you know it!"
Alanna stared at her feet, wondering what to say. When she'd first come down to them, she'd been filled with anger. Now, she felt filled with shame at what she'd said to her friends. Though most of it was true, she'd been too harsh. "Numair, Daine, I'm sorry I was harsh, but you have to understand that I only said those things because I care," Alanna did her best to rectify her actions. "I love you both as my friends and it hurts me to hear what the nobles at court say about you. When I saw you two coming back from the forest at this hour, I knew that it was only a matter of time before the entire fort knew about it and soon the whole court."
"Don't you think we know that and that we can handle it? We've only been gossiped about for the whole time we've known each other!" Numair said this with a slight grin. Alanna was pleased to see that his anger seemed to have faded away. It seemed that Daine knew best how to calm her lanky friend. -But is he just her friend?- Alanna questioned herself. Rubbing away such thoughts for the time being, Alanna allowed her mind to return to the present.
"You do some fair foolish things at times," Alanna pointed out quickly. Numair sighed and nodded, not at all denying that she was right.
"I'll agree with that any day," Daine added with a slight laugh, lightening the tense mood. At her side, she could feel Numair let out a breath he had been holding in, letting his body relax. She was glad their little spat hadn't gone any farther than need be. She hated it when her friends fought. She always ended up in the middle of things, and it was far from pretty.
"I don't deny it," Numair reached up an arm to scratch the top of his head, ruffling his hair into a mess. A grin was planted on his face that said he forgave Alanna, and that was better than words to the knight.
"We'd best be getting to bed, Numair," Daine prompted edging her head toward their sleeping quarters. She yawned to emphasis her point and to pull herself out of this awkward moment with Alanna.
"Very true, my Magelet," he said in response, mimicking her yawn.
"I suppose I should be heading off to bed as well," Alanna chimed in. "I'll see the two of you at breakfast. I'm assuming that Jon will be wanting you back at the palace soon, so a messenger will likely come to summon you."
"And I couldn't be more thankful," Daine replied, sighing. Alanna looked at her quizzically.
"At some point or another, you've been to just about every major fort in Tortall, Daine, and this is by far the best. Why are you in such a hurry to leave it?" Alanna asked with some amusement. She always found her young friend's train of though to be an excellent source of entertainment.
"That may be true, but I'll still feel all the better as soon as I'm back at my rooms at the palace and can breath freely. Staying at a fort, even one so nice as this reminds me of war." Daine answered her friend's question.
"Yes, I for one agree with that," Numair added.
"I suppose you're right, Daine," Alanna said, thinking on the young woman's words. "War's taken its toll on me and I'm fair sure its that last thing I even want to think about now that its over." There was a brief moment of silence in which none of the trio spoke. Just the word war brought back painful memories of the battles fought not all that long ago. With war came pain and many things that anyone involved wanted very dearly to forget, but likely never would. " Well, as I was saying, I'd best be off to bed," Alanna said quickly, breaking the awkward silence. "I'm expected to be up with the sun and its getting fair late, and I need my sleep. I'll see you two in the morning." With that said, Alanna turned and left the two standing by the fort's side door. For a moment, they just stood there, not really sure what to do.
"We'd best do the same, Magelet," Numair said quietly.
"All right," Daine replied.
Without another word to one another, Daine and Numair headed off to the Healer's Wing where they had first slept, both silently wishing that very little would come of their night's escapade. Perhaps in the morning they would receive news as to when they could return home. Daine hoped so, for she missed the palace. Not that Legann was uncomfortable to her, she just preferred familiar surroundings.
Yawning one last time and muttering to Numair to have a good night, Daine slid into her cot, pulling her single blanket over herself and ruffling her pillow until it was comfortable. She closed her eyes and sent herself into a dream filled sleep.
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(A/N: This next scene takes place in Galla, specifically in its capital at the palace in Jerkins.....)
"Feron!" roared the voice of King Jarlath of Jerkins, Galla. He was rather flustered at the moment, and that emotion came out clearly in his harsh tone. Of course that was the tone he often used with his servants and almost everyone else. It was how he'd been raised and it was what he'd become.
" Y-yes, Your Highness?" the servant whom Jarlath had summoned for came racing to his King. Drops of sweat were forming on his face. Jarlath always had a way of making everyone around him feel intimidated. The man always wore a frown, his eyes blazing with fire.
"What time of day is it?" Jarlath's voice was rough and annoyed. He looked Feron directly in the eye, driving the man further into confusion.
"Just around midday, Majesty," Feron replied meekly, knowing full well what the King's question meant.
"And what happens everyday at this time that did not happen today?" Jarlath's eyes bore into Feron's asking a silent challenge. He smiled in amusement, watching the servant's body tremble with fear. It pleased him that his servants knew he was to be feared, that he wouldn't hesitate to punish them harshly for any wrongs committed.
"I-I don't know, Majesty," Feron's eyes now darted down to look at the floor. He hung his head low in shame. This was the third time this week he'd failed the King, and Jarlath wasn't likely going to be pleased about it.
"The news, you fool! The news!" Jarlath spat, letting all withheld anger spill out. He rose from his chair that he sat in, moving away from the desk.
"Oh, yes, the news!" Feron said, eyes lighting up in recognition. "Forgive me, Your Highness, for so foolishly forgetting my duties," Feron silently prayed that Jarlath wouldn't lose his temper any more than he already had. Feron had learned through the years that it was not wise to bet a single copper on any unfortunate fellow who did wind up on the King of Galla's bad side.
"Well?!" Jarlath spat, not at all letting his harsh tone decrease. "Where is it?!"
"Right here, Majesty," Feron said, fishing into his tunic for the documents. He'd gone and collected them before his morning meal and had placed them within his tunic for safe keeping. He was known for losing things, and the last time he'd lost the King's mail, Jarlath had had him flogged. That was not an experience Feron was keen on repeating. Feron handed the letters over to the King, who snatched them from him eagerly. Feron knew what particular letter he was so eager to find. It was a response from Carthak. Several weeks ago, Jarlath had gotten in contact with Emperor Kaddar Siraj of Carhak and proposed that his son, Prince Aidan of Jerkins, Galla, be betrothed to Emperor Kaddar's niece, Lady Amira of Siraj. It would mean making a treaty with Carthak, one of the two main neighboring countries who hadn't made alliances with Galla. The remaining powerful neighboring country was that of Tortall.
Jarlath fumbled through the large stack of letters until he found one with the royal Carthaki seal, a growling hyena, on it. He quickly tore through the wax, not even bothering to reach into his desk for his gold letter opener. There was no time for such delicacies. No, this was important information that Jarlath had waited weeks for. The letter was soon open, and his eyes darted from left to right as he frantically read its contents.
To Whom It May Concern,
I, Emperor Kaddar Siraj of Carthak, regret to inform you that I must decline your betrothal proposal for my niece. There is already a marriage lined up for her to a Tortallan noble. I hope that you do not take offense to this, for I am still willing to consider peace negotiations with Galla.
-Emperor Kaddar Siraj of Carthak
Jarlath crumbled the letter up in anger, eyes blazing. "How dare he?!" he pounded his fist down on his desk. Feron flinched at the King's reaction. It could mean only one thing, Aidan's betrothal wasn't going to happen. The King had been trying to get his son betrothed to a noble of a powerful nation for years, and had so far been unsuccessful. Most surrounding countries thought Galla to be weak, and thus useless to be connected to through marriage. "How dare that-that child, decline my proposal?!" the King's voice roared throughout all the halls and rooms within ear shot of his study. In his rage, Jarlath reached for anything he could find, and threw it aimlessly across the room and into the wall.
Feron watched helplessly and fearfully as his King made a mess of his own study. Things were becoming quite a mess that Feron knew he would be in charge of cleaning up. He was Jarlath's personal servant. Each of the royal monarchs had their own servant and Feron had been unfortunate enough to become the King's. -I should be thankful I'm not the boy's- Feron assured himself quickly, running a nervous finger through his strands of gray tinged hair. He ducked quickly and with little grace so as to miss a flying vase. "That one was particularly expensive," Feron muttered under his breath, annoyed.
After a while, and not before the King's study was in shambles, leaving no item unthrown, Jarlath calmed down a bit. He threw himself down into his black leather chair and brought it up to meet the desk. He cleared his throat and again began fumbling through the rest of the news. This was how things always went. When Jarlath was in a rage, he would become murderous and destroy Mithros knows what around and would suddenly stop, acting as if nothing had happened. It would, however, be a mistake to think that just because Jarlath acted as though all was well, that everything was indeed well. It was far from that, for Jarlath still boiled inside. It was only a matter of time before he sought revenge on who ever had dared displease him. Feron prayed to the gods for that person, for things often ended in their death.
"What's this?" Jarlath's eyes lit up with interest as he reached a rolled parchment sealed with a red seal. The seal was of a lion that sat on its haunches and roared. Feron recognized it as the Tortallan seal, but obviously his master didn't.
"Don't you recognize the Tortallan seal, Majesty?"Feron asked, silently amused. He paid for his words.
"Silence!" Jarlath roared, pulling his attention from the note to his servant. "You are a servant and I am your master! It is not you place to be rude, Feron! I had hoped you had learned that after your last flogging!"
"Y-yes, Majesty, I-I did," Feron replied, voice shaking with fear. Why had he been so stupid as to provoke Jarlath just after the King had gotten out of one of his rages? His knees now rattles together as he trembled with fear. " I w-was m-merely implying that I knew the seal."
"Fine, fine," Jarlath muttered, signaling with his hands, for Feron to wait in silence. He now turned his full attention back to the Tortallan letter, completely ignoring Feron. His eyes darter across the page with interest as he read.
To Our Royal Cousins In Galla,
I, King Jonathan III of Conte, Tortall, hope to find you well in this time after the Immortal War. This is meant to be a note of status. I will be expecting to receive a similar letter from Galla. Our status is 2,000 dead and 165 missing.
It is my pleasure to announce the death of the stormwing, the once emperor of Carthak, Ozorne. He was killed in battle by Tortallan's own, Wild Mage Veralidaine Sarrasri. The Gallans may know of her, for she was once from Galla. She will be rewarded for her bravery. I would also like to announce of another main enemy's death. That is of Inar Hadensra, killed in a mage's duel by the black robed mage, Numair Salmalin of Tortall.
Yours In Peace,
King Jonathan III
Jarlath lifted his head up from its reading position, his eyes filled with thought. Veralidaine Sarrasri, once of Galla? Wasn't she the young girl that had once been from Snowsdale that had been reported to him years ago? If so, she was the one her village had reported as insane and on the loose. Upon hearing the news, Jarlath had ordered his men to keep an eye out for such a girl. The description he had gotten was thirteen years of age with blue gray eyes and smoky brown curls. To this day he thought that was an outstandingly beautiful profile, though he'd never actually seen the girl. He'd talked with many citizens who had, and they all said she was a brilliant example of feminine beauty, despite her madness.
Then, an angering thought entered his mind. She was a known hero. She had power that none of the Gallan mages possessed. Not only did Tortall have one of the few black robed mages, but they also had the world's most powerful Wild Mage! Galla had not a single mage who possessed even the slightest amount of wild magic! Jarlath felt anger and jealousy cloud his mind to the point where he could think of nothing else. He envisioned how much power Galla would have if Veralidaine was among them. Power was what Jarlath had sought for most of his reign.
Most of Galla's neighboring countries underestimated it. They would never bother with peace treaties with Galla, for they didn't consider Galla a threat. Jarlath had spent many years of his reign negotiating with the surrounding countries, trying to get them to sign minor treaties with Galla. Having alliances with neighboring countries meant power, and power was all that truly mattered to Jarlath. Most of the decisions made by Jarlath, no matter how minor, revolved around gaining power.
The King's ambition to gain power had paid off for Galla over the years. He had indeed gained the support of several powerful neighbors. What's more, not a single nation suspected what a threat Galla had become. From what they knew of the minor country, Galla had a small army, barely fit to defend its borders and a navy fit for sailing in a mere pond. How wrong they were. Jarlath had spent countless days building up the Gallan army, tirelessly making it undefeatable. Soon all would know of how much they had underestimated Galla, and they would regret it. Soon, Jarlath would rule many of the surrounding countries after he had succeeded in conquering them. He would complete what that fool, Ozorne had failed at all those years ago.
" I want the Wild Mage," Jarlath said at last. Feron looked up at the King, startled. Having already gone through the King's letters, Feron knew full well who Jarlath spoke of. "I will have her."
"Shall I have the scribes prepare a letter of peace for you, Majesty?" Feron suggested, eye's alight with interest. It wasn't everyday his King went on a quest to gain a single person, a mere slip of a girl at that.
"No, I think not, Feron," Jarlath said thoughtfully. His lips were parted in an evil grin that sent chills of terror up Feron's spine. "I see it foolish to try to obtain something from peace negotiations that I already have."
Feron was baffled by this statement. What was Jarlath talking about? Veralidaine Sarrasri was on Tortallan soil. How did the King propose the get her? "I'm afraid I don't understand, Majesty," Feron said politely, hoping Jarlath would share his plans with him.
"I didn't expect an uneducated servant such as yourself to understand, Feron, so allow me to explain," Jarlath said, his voice filled with evil pleasure. Feron was shocked at the King's friendly way of speaking to him. It was a rare occurrence that only came around when the King was in an extraordinarily good mood. A mood brought on by some evil scheme. "You see, there is no need for me to beg for something I already have."
"I wasn't aware that any of the Gallan mages had wild magic," Feron said, not understanding Jarlath's true meaning for his words.
"No, no, no!" Jarlath hissed in frustration. At his age and rank, he shouldn't be expected to put up with such foolishness from servants. "Of course none of my mages have wild magic! Its the girl though, Veralidaine Sarrasri. She is Gallan, according to this letter."
"She may be Gallan, Highness, but she is loyal to Tortall," Feron was surprised at his own daring with the King. He would be lucky if he left the King's study without being sent to be flogged for his words.
"I don't care who she is loyal to, Feron!" Jarlath roared, banging his fist down onto his desk. "It doesn't matter how loyal she is to Tortall, she still belongs to Galla! She had not the proper permission to flee to Tortall, thus she left illegally. Lucky for me, I passes that law not long before she fled. Now that I know of her existence, I can order her back."
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A/N: Dun dun dun.....cliffy! And so the plot arrives in this chappy.....I also introduced two new characters that I'm sure you noticed.....don't forget to review or mark my words I will not continue to update!!! ^_^
