Chapter 5: Departure

BIG NOTE: Ahem. Because of time constraints, I'm going to have to admit defeat to the many cultural differences that plague our poor and abused world and confess that I know nothing of the languages spoken in ancient Carthage or Scandinavia (which are the foundations of Carthak and Scanra). Therefore, unless someone feels the need to shriek at me for my lack of creativity, I'm going to let Carthaki equal Spanish and Scanran equal French (those are the only two foreign languages I even slightly know). Usually the language will be translated to or hinted at in English in the story itself, but, when it's not, there will be a little asterisk leading to a footnote. This does not mean, mind you, that I will suddenly hurl a red cloth at some helpless Carthaki citizen and dump him into a big ring with a raging bull. The normal traditions and hairdos will all stay the same; don't worry.

Alanna glanced up as Rowanna strode towards her in the library. "Where were you?" Alanna demanded. "I could have sworn you were right behind me when I came here after dinner, and then I looked and you weren't there."

Rowanna shrugged and flopped into a chair. "Rinnesia wanted to talk to me."

Alanna immediately forgot about scolding her friend and leaned forward intently. "And?"

"The Countess of King's Reach will be here for me in a week. Maids have already begun packing my bags."

Alanna could not think of anything to say and sufficed with "Oh."

"Yes, 'oh.' I hadn't thought it would be so soon. I guess I should have known: there are signs everywhere. More letters coming in, mud seeping out of our ears, mid-April, Catherine of Senishelle leaving last week. Rather obvious. But it'll be so different. I wonder what the Countess will think when I wake up at four-thirty in the morning. Do you think it would be inappropriate to wear my breeches and stretch when I'm in my room? I'd be alone, sure, but what if someone walked in on me? I'm going to ask Kevin if I can take that sword and the exercise balls with me, so I can stay in shape. Do you think there will be someone there who can teach me more Carthaki? I'd hate to get as far as I am now just to stop. Do you think I'll mess up a lot? I hope not. Grandmother Sebila just wrote me a list of things I had to make sure I did when under the Countess' care: be neat, always have combed hair, don't snore, don't fuss, don't argue. I feel as if I'm already dead. And just think, living in the castle of Earl Hamrath! Can you imagine?"

Alanna smiled weakly. Rowanna always prattled on tirelessly about the oddest of things when she was nervous. "I think you'll do great. After all, you are a Disart. And don't worry about messing up. I bet Malven couldn't care less." Alanna bit her tongue—she hadn't intended to bring up the betrothal.

Rowanna shuddered at the mention of her intended. "Gods, he scares me more than everything else put together. What could be worse than marriage to a man who spits his S's?"

Alanna forced herself to giggle. "Think about looking at his crooked teeth every single day!"

The two of them laughed and then, as the bell tolled eight o'clock, hurried to begin another hour of Carthaki.

The next morning, Kevin was waiting for them at the outdoor practice court once again.

"I heard you were ditching us for the Countess in a week," he accused Rowanna, his voice falsely cheerful.

She flashed him an evil smile. "Yes. While I enjoy lavendar-scented baths and maids braiding my hair, you chumps will be up here swimming in the mud like the pigs you are."

He winced. "Ooo, it bites."

"Ha!" Alanna cried. "Chump? We'll see who's the chump after I beat you with my sword today."

"Actually, ladies," Kevin informed them, "I have something new planned for today."

Rowanna blanched. "Is it something I'm going to pick up in a week?"

"Maybe. It depends on how hard you try. We're headed to the stables, so back through the wall!"

"Okay, I'm thinking nothing but bad thoughts right now," Alanna muttered to Rowanna. The last way she wanted to improve her upper-body strength was by mucking stalls.

Once at the stables, out of habit, they headed straight for their horses. To their surprise, though, they found something not so normal draped over the stall doors: new tack.

Alanna gasped. "A regular saddle! You're going to teach us to ride?"

"That's right. I'm surprised you recognized it. I didn't know you knew anything at all."

She stuck her tongue out at him. "I rode back at Trebond. So there."

When they arrived at the horse ring, they found it lit up by torches and another horse waiting for them.

"Alright, girls, I want to introduce you to my beauty: Rata. It's Carthaki for—"

"Oh, come on! Rat is no name for a charmer like this one," Alanna crooned, reaching over to pat the stallion's neck.

"No—'Lan—" Kevin yanked the halter back just before Alanna lost a limb to the "charmer's" violent teeth. "Ha-ha. Old Rata could pass off as Uusoae herself. His owner was about to butcher him when I came along, so I got him cheap."

Riding was a fun lesson, even with the convent's delicate horses and the bruises it cost. In just a week, they learned how to fall correctly and steer at a walk, trot, canter, and gallop. Rowanna even managed to jump over sticks lying on the ground on her last day.

---

Alanna woke with a start. Blackness enveloped her room—it was still night. Wondering what could have possibly interrupted her sleep, she sat up and reached for the candle on her bedside table. A spark of her Gift made the wick burst into flame. She slid her feet out of bed and into her slippers, shivering as a sudden cold breeze swirled around her bare ankles.

Licking her lips, she stood and investigated the room. Her door was locked, window shut, and curtains drawn. Bats squeaked outside, but she had heard that back at Trebond. They could not have roused her. Her dressing room was empty, as was the wardrobe and the space underneath her bed. She chided herself for needing to satisfy such childish fears but still did not like the strange feeling that made the hairs stand up on her arms. Something was different—wrong, even.

Still quivering from the cold, Alanna donned her robe and reached for the doorknob, thinking to go call on Rowanna. Unannounced meetings in the middle of the night were never unexpected or unwelcome between them.

It was only then that she realized Rowanna had left with the Countess that morning.

Alanna's stomach dropped like a rock. She felt smashed, beaten, and cheated. What did she do now? She had no where to go. Sleep was hardly a choice: she didn't feel the least bit tired now that the cool air had treated every inch of her body. Should she go wake up one of the other girls so she could talk to someone, at least? Who? The first and only thought on Jessica's mind would be how such a visit was breaking a number of very strict convent rules, and Cythera was exhausted after studying for the three tests she had the following day and needed all the sleep she could get. Sighing, Alanna stared around her room, wishing that Kevin slept at the convent and not in town.

Restless and too chafed to care if she got caught, she left her room. Perhaps she could go study Carthaki until four-thirty, when she would come get dressed.

The convent had never seemed so big and empty before. Darkness swarmed into every little nook and cranny, leaving no place visible except the small sphere circling her candle. Luckily, she knew her way around well enough not to need much light.

Making sure the large oak door didn't slam shut behind her, she slid as silently as she could into the library. Her candlelight seemed to shrink among all the musty books. Dust cascaded through the air like a snowstorm, flowing through her candle's circle of light and then disappearing into the mysterious darkness beyond. Slowly, she inched down an aisle that led to the foreign language section. The shelves towered over her, glowering down at her tiny ant-like figure. Imaginary and real critters scurried about on the ground. She gulped, and sped up. She did not like the library at night.

"Trebond!"

Alanna jumped a foot in the air and spun around. To her dismay, standing right there at a small round table she had just passed, was Daughter Marinstha. Alanna went cold with dread. Of all the people who had to catch her, it had to be Marinstha, after everything the woman had done for her and Rowanna.

"Trebond," she repeated, more softly this time. She beckoned.

Alanna stepped gingerly forward. She kept her eyes down, staring at the Daughter's table cluttered with hundreds of papers, a number of books shoved to the side, and the odd assortment of quills, ink bottles, two dried plants, and a small pincushion. Feeling rather awkward, she curtsied. "Good evening, Daughter Marinstha."

"Good evening, Trebond," she replied. There was an odd sound to her voice, and Alanna was shocked to find it resembled amusement. "A lovely night for a walk, no?"

"Delightful," she agreed shakily. She did not know how she responded, as her brain had frozen with terror some time ago.

"Sit down," her Gift instructor invited.

Alanna's knees bent; she fell into a chair.

"Couldn't sleep?"

"No, my lady."

"Hmm. Here, then, we can't put a tireless mind like yours to waste. Correct this essay for me, please. It should be easy enough. Though Ashwood's spelling and grammar are atrocious, I think he almost understood what he was writing about this time." She handed Alanna two sheets of parchment, one full of a blotchy scribble and the other blank. "Write your corrections on the blank one," she ordered, pushing a quill and ink bottle towards her.

Bewildered by her teacher's response to her breaking the rules, Alanna mechanically reached for the quill. Just before dipping it into the bottle, though, she set it back down. "Are you going to punish me or not?" she demanded.

Marinstha looked up from a paper she had already returned to correcting, her expression rather surprised. "I am punishing you, am I not?" She nodded to Garien's paper. "Read the first sentence."

Slowly, Alanna obeyed: mercurie is a dedli theeng. She blinked. "What's a 'dedli theeng'?" she asked curiously. Then she gasped. "Oh! A 'deadly thing!' He's studying mercury?"

"No. Why would you think that? He's writing about a Yamani emperor mage who tried to become immortal by drinking mercury and arsenic."

"That's disgusting."

"I'm aware of that. Now, get reading, or I will report you to First Daughter Rinnesia."

It took Alanna an entire half hour to correct Garien's ridiculously pathetic composition, which left her yawning widely.

Marinstha glanced first at the paper Alanna had given her and then at her student, and shook her head. "You're dismissed," she responded, smiling slightly.

Alanna stepped away from the table before she curtsied. She had just turned towards the great double doors when Marinstha cleared her throat. "And, Trebond, if you can't manage to sleep tomorrow night, I have papers about two weeks old that need correcting."

Alanna ducked her head to hide her smile. "Yes, my lady."