Chapter Seven; Lioness training.

The knights, true to their word, arrived at the Dove as the sun's first rays began to creep over the eastern horizon. George was already awake and he led them out to a backyard none of them had ever seen before.

A person stood in the middle of the court, surrounded by dummies, targets and racks of weapons. A horsehide stuffed with hay hung from a wooden support stood in front of the figure, swaying slightly in the wind. They were clad in breeches and a form fitting shirt, as they turned to the side, picking up bandages and winding them around their hands, her distinctly feminine figure was highlighted by the red sun.

Alanna began to stretch, hair pulled back into a horsetail at the base of her neck, before launching into a dazzling series of acrobatics. She whirled through a sequence of cartwheels, somersaults and airborne twists. She moved so fast her feet seemed to barely touch the ground. Only George remained calm, the boys were stunned, Jon less so than the others, because he had seen her use these moves in a fight, but the others had only seen her archery and knife work.

"She's off her form." George observed quietly, "She'd usually have known we were here by now."

Alanna now turned to archery, deliberately picking up a crossbow and examining the bolts. Calmly she shot three rounds into the furthest target, some fifty feet away from her. None missed the inner circle.

The longbow was next, a tall, supple staff. She set the base against her foot and looped the string over the top in a quick movement. She picked an arrow from the rack and tested its balance then nodded and nocked it to the string. Suddenly she whirled on her heel and aimed straight at the four intruders. Seeing who they were, she relaxed slightly.

"George. Go away, now is not a good time." She loosed the arrow. It flew straight between Gary and Jon's heads, imbedding itself deeply into the inn wall. She threw the bow down as she turned her back, obviously expecting them to leave. She advanced on the horse skin and began punching it.

With a cry of frustration she spun and lashed out with her leg. Her foot hit the bag with a loud 'whack' and they winced slightly at the pain that blow must have caused on her bare feet. Alanna didn't seem to feel it though; she continued hitting the bag. Left, right, fists, feet, elbows. She used every part of her body to rain blows down upon the helpless bag.

"Come on boys. We better go." Gary and Raoul began to follow George back into the inn.

"Jon?" Raoul halted as the Prince stayed, leaning on the fence.

"You go. I'll see you back at the Palace."

"You sure?"

Jon nodded,

"Yes." As the others left he turned once more to watch the red headed girl pounding the bag.

He remembered something George had said to him alone last night, just before they had left the Dancing Dove.

"She's got a lot of anger Jon. She'll be a great and loyal friend to you, or she can be your worst enemy. Don't hurt her, I care as much for her as if she'd been my own daughter."

He remembered his own solemn reply to the King of thieves, simple, but as good as George would ever need, 

"I won't".

Alanna's hair had slipped from its binding now and flew around her face as she spun into an intricate series of kicks and jabs. She heard him approach and stood from her crouch, stilling the bag with both hands as she did so.

"George…"

"It's not George." She turned abruptly,

"Highness!"

"Jon." He reminded her,

"Jon." She corrected herself. "What are you still doing here?"

"Watching you." The frank reply was not what she had expected at all,

"Oh."

"Where did you learn to fight like that? Shang style I mean."

She pulled her hair away from her face and tied it again with the leather thong,

"George saved a Shang a few years ago and he recalled the favour. He says it will keep me out of trouble." Jonathan leant on a rack of throwing stars, daggers and bolts for a crossbow,

"Has it?"

"Not really." She laughed slightly. Jon had never heard her laugh before and he guessed that it was a rare occurrence. Her whole face lit up and her eyes glittered. "It gets me out of them quicker though."

"You're good."

"Thanks."

"So," Jon gestured to the weapons around them, "can you use of these then? I noticed you were carrying a small armoury last night."

"Yeah. I have to." She spoke matter of factly.

"Why?"

"Princess of the Rogue and all that." She shrugged carelessly, "I'm a target. Lots of challengers for the Rogue throne try and use me as an advantage."

"I bet they get a surprise."

"They do." She agreed, plucking a throwing star from the rack and weighing it up in her hand. Nodding slightly she handed it to Jon, taking another for herself. "Do you want to try?"

Jon smiled and took it from her,

"Will you show me?" He asked simply, she would be far better at this than him. He was accepting this strangely easily, surprising himself. She smiled openly then turned and showed him.

They spent the morning like that, Alanna showed Jon how to knife fight and fight Shang style with a punch and a kick. In his turn he helped her sword fight. She rarely used that skill, not being able to conceal a sword as well as a dagger. She knew kata, but had virtually no practise against an adversary.

 He was behind her, hands clasping her own on the hilt of her spare sword, the other one having been ruined the night before, correcting her stance slightly as she tilted her head back to ask a question, then found her eyes locked with Jon's and her back pressed tightly against his chest. Hurriedly she broke away, Jon realising why she was uncomfortable, stepped back as well, dropping his sword point to the ground. Both were panting slightly.

"I ought to go back to the palace." Jon said as a way of dissolving the tension. He was slightly disappointed, they had been laughing and joking all morning. He and Alanna were soon becoming friends and he found he was enjoying her unique perspective. He was relieved when she pushed back her shielding curtain of hair and smiled up at him.

"I'll walk with you."

"Honestly, there's no need." Jon protested. "It's broad daylight."

"Jon, those men who tried to kill you last night won't hide away because it's day." He nodded, conceding to her point.

"Very well fair lady I would be honoured if you accompanied me." She chuckled as he lifted his nose in the air and spoke in a snotty tone of voice.

He usually spoke well, without the common brogue of the city. To Jon's interest Alanna spoke with only the faintest hint of that accent. He shook off the thought to ponder later.

"Shall we, Lady Alanna?" She curtsied mockingly,

"We shall Prince Jonathan."

Together, laughing they left the Dove as George, who had been watching the entire morning from a small high window, cursed.