Chapter Six ~ Lessons
It was a long, hard ride to Persopolis. Not just that one night, either; she continued riding on, something--or someone--was calling a her to come. She stopped only momentarily each day to rest and eat. After five days of relentless riding, Alanna paused and shielded her her eyes, trying to make out the city in the darkness. Ahead, she saw the outlines of dark towers. She clucked to her mare to continue, kicking up a trail of dust in their wake.
As she neared, she saw another city, a little beyond the black one. She frowned, thinking. Two cities? But the Bazhir only built one--oh yes, The Black City, the City of rumored Demons. Like any of it is true; Demons? Nevertheless she gave it a wide berth, just in case.
It didn't take much longer to reach the small Northern Gates of Persopolis. She unmounted when she saw the guards--a large Bazhir youth and another guard a few years older than the other, wearing (if she remembered correctly) what seemed Meron uniform. They exchanged looks when they saw her heading towards them. Alanna wound the reigns around her hand and walked up to the Gate--and guards--purposefully.
As she expected, they barred her from entering, eyeing her with suspicion in their eyes. After all, how many people tried to enter a city wearing dark clothes and veils at the dead of night? Not many, and especially not with purple eyes. And from what she could tell, they couldn't tell she was a woman in the near-darkness.
They pointed their spear points dangerously close to her neck, but she saw both hesitate momentarily.
Alanna grinned wryly at them, but they couldn't see through the tight weave of her veil. "Will you gentlemen kindly let me through?"
The larger and older youth gave a slow chuckle. "No," he replied. A bit of amusement and surprise showed in his voice when he heard her voice. "First, tell me why I should let you--a thief or assassin, from what I can tell--into the city to murder or steal. I would have thought you rogues were smarter than that; its midnight. No one comes out or leaves at midnight."
"Except for that once with the Prince," the other man muttered under his breath, his accent contained a little of what Alanna suspected to be the desert people's language..
Alanna turned and looked sharply at him, eyes narrowed. "Prince?" she asked.
The Meron guard nudged his companion gruffly. "Watch your tongue," he warned. The younger guard ducked his head. To Alanna, he said: "Its nothing you should worry about. I advise you to leave before..." he let the threat hang, as if to intimidate her.
"Spare me the theatrics; they won't work. I've met people with a lot more experience and wit with it than you'll ever be," she told them.
"Though some are more pompous about it," she added. Like a certain Terrin.
This brought a small laugh from the younger guard, though the other one only scowled. "And what kind of people are those? Pickpockets? Slit-throats? I somehow doubt that they have that kind of elegance."
"What would make you think that?" she questioned.
He pointed her her veil and clothes. "Everything. Your manner, your clothing--mainly your veil, your sword." Alanna's hand automatically reached for her sword hilt at it's mention. She had forgotten she carried it.
The guard saw her movement. "If you remove your veil so we can see your face, and leave your weapon here, we may consider allowing you entrance."
Alanna snorted. "Not likely."
The Bazhir nudged his companion and whispered something. The grim-faced Meron guard nodded. "The sword, then. Show me."
Alanna sighed and rolled her eyes. She unstrapped the sword from her waist and threw it--along with the scabbard--to the guard.
The guard leaned his spear against the wall so that his hands could be free to catch it, and when he did, he was surprised by it's weight--it was the lightest he had ever lifted.
Light caught the black jewel embedded in the pommel. He frowned, an Opal--moreover that, a black Opal. Very expensive. He looked suspiciously at the woman standing there. Who was she, and what did she want? He could tell by her stance that she was highly trained in fighting. He ventured a question. "Do you know how to use this?"
The purple-eyed stranger rolled her eyes again. Dryly she said: "No, of course not. That's why I have it with me."
The guard shrugged of the sarcasm in the answer. Instead, he handed the sword to his cohort.
The Bazhir youth told the sword, admiring the expensive jewel and ornately etched handle. Taking scabbard by one hand and holding it delicately, he drew the sword very slowly,
Out of the corner of his eye, the guard saw her move quickly. He grabbed his spear blocked, expecting an attack. He heard her sigh. "Don't smudge it, I didn't get a chance to see it myself. And I think you should be careful with the blade, I suspect it's very sharp, coming from who gave it to me."
The weary guard gave a barking laugh. "A Gift? From who? A secret admirer?" he smirked.
Alanna stared at him, wondering if the comment was from ignorance or stupidity. Probably both, she decided. "No, you couldn't call him that. Though you could say he popped out of a bush and handed it to me."
"So its a He then? I suspected as much." He turned to the younger guard, who was staring at the blade which had just cut his finger when he had touched it lightly. The other guard frowned.
Alanna thought this was taking too long. "I warned you to be careful. She snatched sword and scabbard back and resheathed it, tying it to her waist. "So, can I pass?" she demanded. And with a flick, threw them each a gold noble.
The two conversed quickly in whispers for a while and finally nodded. "Go on, just don't tell anyone about the gold."
"You think I would?" she retorted and led her horse past them.
After she had left, the two continued to talk.
"I think it's her," the Bazhir said.
"What makes you so sure? You didn't even see her hair, nevertheless her face," the Maren guard told him calmly.
The youth shrugged. "I just know. I think you do, too, or else you wouldn't have let her pass. I know you don't do things just for gold."
The older one's face darkened. He was born and raised in Persopolis, he played with the Bazhir children in the city when he was young. Even though he was descent from a Northerner, his Bazhir friends trusted him. This background also gave him a strong belief in Bazhir prophecies and legends.
"So you think she's the belated one who was to have come with the Prince?"
The Bazhir shook his head. "No, she wasn't suppose to come with him, then. The Demons weren't killed, even though the Blue-eyed Prince escaped. The Voice tells prophesized that a mysterious stranger would accompany him when he returned to battle the Demons again."
"But why are you so sure it's her? She's mysterious, certainly, but she came from the South, she has the tiniest of Carthaki accents. For all you know, she's never met the Prince. In fact, she might be a prostitute traveling from Carthak, albeit one in breeches and tunics."
The Bazhir rolled his eyes. "Since you saw that one, you think women are all prostitutes. Hasn't Ali Mukhtab given a speech on this to you already? You're so naive, even if you act all tough." The Bazhir youth grew up with his fellow guard, and was also born and raised in the city. In fact, for some strange reason or the other, he never visited a Bazhir Camp outside of Persopolis.
"I guess you're right, you usually are."
It was hard to find an inn in the Bazhir city so late at night, but she managed. But the sun woke her after what seemed only a few minuets of sleep. Weariness she had not felt during her hard-ridden journey was finally catching up to her.
But she had exercises to attend to. An assassin was almost as good as nothing if he--or she, in her case--got out of shape. Pulling out her last clean set of clothes from the saddlebags she had taken off of Starfall, she dressed quickly. She much preferred to practice at night, but there was no helping it.
She tucked her daggers into their places, but hesitated to take the sword. At the end, she took it, pride had to be pushed aside just now.
Flipping out the window and scaling the wall to the roof was no hard task. And the roof was flat, with place to move. Plus, no one was there, or on any of the others.
Scouting her surrounding one more time before starting her stretches, she noticed a small shadow where shadows had right to be. Two throwing knives appeared in her hands, and hurtled towards the dark figure.
The figure moved to the right and a hand reached out to grab both knives out of the air. He glanced at them, then at Alanna, a few roofs away. Maneuvering quickly, he narrowed the distance between them.
Alanna frowned and pulled out a few more daggers--just in case. She had a strong hunch of who it was, but she couldn't tell. Whoever it was wore a dark cloak with the hood drawn over his face, even in the searing desert heat. She also reached for the sword, better to be safe than sorry, she told herself.
As he approached, the man pulled off his hood. Alanna rolled her eyes and scowling, threw a dagger at him and turned around. She didn't bother to look if he had caught it, she knew he had.
"Go away, Terrin," she said. "Why do you insist on following me? You have the sword spelled to see where I am, anyway."
There was a pause in the approaching footsteps, then a chuckle. "Always suspicious, aren't you? If you bothered to take the few seconds it took to see, you could have known that there was no magic placed on the sword--other than that of the jewel itself."
Alanna turned to glare at him. "Some people must think very highly of themselves to follow me around," she snapped.
This comment only produced another chuckle. "I was told to watch you, or don't you remember?" He pulled off his cloak, flicking a bit of dirt off as he did. She noticed that he now wore a spotless white damask shirt and leather breeches, with matching boots.
"What?" he asked dryly, "Not what you expected? I can't always be wearing clothes that have been rolled in the mud, you know. And I see that you don't, either."
Alanna pointedly ignored him; if he was going to follow her around everywhere, he might as well do it quietly.
As if he read her thoughts, he said: "I wouldn't have bothered to talk to you if you hadn't thrown the knives at me." He held out her three daggers, point first. Alanna stared at them, unmoving.
Finally he sighed. "If I'd know you'd be such a grouch today, I wouldn't have bothered," he muttered. He looked around and spotted the sword. He raised an eyebrow elegantly, "You kept the sword? I'm flattered. I thought you would have thrown it away long ago, seeing as how you treat me."
Alanna paused in her exercise and looked up at him. "It's not like I'll use it," she answered.
Terrin returned her gaze quizzically, "Then why keep it?" Alanna didn't reply. He grinned as an idea dawned upon him. "I could teach you, if you want," he offered.
Alanna halted her exercises and turned to face him. "I suggest you leave," she told him coldly. "I don't know what gave you that idea, but..." she stopped.
Terrin walked picked up to sword and pulled it out of the scabbard. Hefting it expertly, he walked up to Alanna. "Everyone has a weak point," he told her. "And you're flawless--in a deadly way. I was worried that you might not be human."
Alanna scowled, what was he playing at? "Nobody's perfect," she snapped.
"Precisely." He grinned deviously. "Now, do you want to learn, or what?"
Alanna sighed and looked longingly at the sword. The best Swordsmen in Carthak didn't exactly teach people like her the art of the sword. And most of the rogues there didn't know a copper worth teaching. She had her pride, but...
"Come on, Assassin-Girl, I'm not going to wait all day for you to make up your mind."
The idea of taking lessons from Terrin didn't exactly thrill her, but since he knew about her not being the best with the sword anyway, it couldn't hurt. Could it? "I guess so..."
Terrin grinned and threw her the sword, then he produced one of his own. It was longer and heavier than the one he had given her, with an ebony handle and Silver-Grey Stone.
"Get ready, its going to be one long morning."
Done! Hee hee, I now I'm neglecting my other fics, but this ones the fun-est to write. I know, I know, the story's going at a snail's pace, but don't worry, things will heat up when she get to Corus...like, literally. And that would be the next chapter.
Questions, everybody, questions! And don't forget Reviews! I'm just addicted to them, who couldn't be?
Question: Is He (Jon's Uncle) the employer?
Answer: Ah, Do you mean Jon's Cousin? Duke Roger? Uh...maybe I could give this away just once...Should I? Hmm...I guess I could...maybe not though...Okay, here's my compromise: If you really want to know bad enough, e-mail me and I'll tell you. (My e-mail is: Reaya@eudoramail.com )
Question: This is going to be A/J right?
Answer: Should I answer this? Here, I'll tell you this, Call it a love Circle-thingy-majigy. There'll be more info and explainations in the later chapters. lol.
Question: Are the Ysandir still in existence?
Answer: My first direct answer in a long time: Yes.
Question: Does George feel anything for Alanna?
Answer: Another direct answer: Yes. There's going to me more on this in--yup you guessed it--the later chapters! Hee hee Don't you just love it when I say that?
Question: Why do you always have to leave it at a cliffhanger?
Answer: Do I now? I didn't know. *Crosses fingers behind back* Honestly.
Question: Who are your favorite couples? A/J? A/G? A/S (Alanna and Shang Dragon)? A/A? Who?
Answer: My favorite couples? But if I choose one, I'll end up getting killed! *Takes deep breath* Here goes: I like A/J, but that doesn't mean I hate A/G, either. In fact, I think they make a great couple, with Alanna's personality and frequent arguments with Jon and all...but it would have been sweet if she did end up with Jon, wouldn't it? I also think A/A fics are interesting, too.
Question: Will they get to Corus soon? And is she going to be there as Lady Alanna of Trebond, or a commoner?
Answer: So sorry, but I can't answer this until...the later chapters.
So with all that done, I hope no one kills me, and...um...go Review!
~Reaya
Note: *After I post the next Chapter of Taking Chances, I will be taking a break from fic writing. Probably from 1-2 weeks away. Of course, I'll still be reading fics, and going online (duh), etc. If you want to be alerted when I update, you can subscribe to my mailing list by followoing the link listed on my bio page.
Thank you.