CHAPTER 31: Reactions

"Are you crazy?" Jonathan cried.

Alanna and Jon stood glaring at each other in Alanna's room an hour after the council had been officially adjourned. She had just returned form celebrating with Myles and Faithful, joined shortly thereafter by Gary and Raoul, who had heard the news from Duke Gareth. She wanted to change and go dig up Thom from library, but had been sidetracked when she found Jon waiting.

"What's the matter with you?" Alanna demanded. "Why can't you be happy for me, like everyone else? Don't you trust me to make a good knight?"

"Alanna, you have to take the Ordeal before you become a knight!" he shouted vexedly.

Alanna flinched, stung. "You don't trust me. Even after I saved your skin in the Black City, even after I fought Dain of Melor, even after Carthak, you still don't think I'm good enough."

"No, that's not it." He struggled to say something, and sighed instead, running his fingers through his hair in annoyance. He bit his lip, and then reached out to take her hands in his. "You're perfectly capable of being a knight, Alanna, but—I don't know. I don't want to see you get hurt. I—I'll be king some day, your commander. I'll have to send you off to war, and I won't know how you're doing. I won't be able to see you, or help you, or hold you, or—or anything. I want us to be together, without you having to run off all of the time."

Alanna's eyes widened, and she stepped back. "I'm not ready for anything long-term, Jon. We're just sleeping together."

He sighed. "Of course, Alanna."

She stepped forward again and hugged him. "Don't worry about me, Jon. I'll be fine." She could feel that he didn't believe her, but she didn't really care, as long as he didn't object openly. After changing, she hurried down to the library to find Thom. He was sprawled in a chair in the Gift section with his nose buried in a book and a stack of volumes next to him. "Thom, guess what!" she whispered eagerly.

He glanced up at her for a moment as he turned a page before continuing reading. "What?"

"I'm going to take the Ordeal."

He frowned, and returned his attention to her. "What Ordeal?"

"'What Ordeal'? Thom, the Ordeal of Knighthood. King Roald just had all of these men in a council, and they talked forever, and then they voted, and they said that I could take the Ordeal!"

"Why?" he asked, clearly baffled.

"Because apparently I've done all of this stuff for the crown, and they wanted to reward me."

"They wanted to reward you—a girl—with a shield," he echoed incredulously. "Who gave them that idea?"

She paused. Somehow she could imagine him not liking the answer. "Roger."

Thom stared at her. "Are you insane? You accepted an offer from Roger?"

"Thom, the offer wasn't from Roger; it was from the king."

"The offer was from Roger, Alanna—he's probably going to hoodwink it or something—"

"You can't hoodwink the Ordeal, Thom. It's run by Mithros."

"My ass, it's run by Mithros. That's probably some weird spell that Roger is going toy with as much as he did with the palace spells that I had to stop."

"Thom, stop it. You're a great sorcerer—don't spoil it by acting stupid. You know the Ordeal is run by Mithros and nothing can happen to it."

"Then he'll catch you beforehand, during the vigil. He'll kill you and make it look like suicide."

"He could kill me any old time and make it look like suicide, Thom."

"If he did it during the vigil then he would make it look like you chickened out and that fighting really isn't for girls."

"What does he care about fighting girls? Proving me worthless is not one of his top priorities, last I heard."

"Maybe he did it so you would trust him."

"Not even Roger is that stupid."

"Then why, pray tell, did he do it?"

"I don't know, Thom! What I do know is that what he did—no matter the reason—has now put me where I've wanted to be all my life. I'm going to become a knight, Thom!"

Thom jumped to his feet furiously. "Alanna, you're being an idiot! Someone who wants to kill you doesn't step out of nowhere and help fulfill your dreams. Be realistic!" He stomped away, and then spun around to snap, "By the way, I'm leaving for the City of the Gods tomorrow. I probably won't see you before then—or ever again, if you're letting your foolish fantasies get in the way of staying alive."

"Thom, you got your wish of being a sorcerer; why can't I get mine of being a knight?" she cried.

"Because you're trying to do it in a suicidal way!"

"Oh, and getting yourself stuck in a cage for a year isn't suicidal?"

"That was not my fault."

"Then whose was it? As far as I'm concerned, it was you who ran away from the palace to become a great sorcerer with no point to life, started working with Duke Roger of Conté, and then got kidnapped! If that's not correct, Thom, then please say so, so I'll know that you're not a selfish freak and that you really do have problems that aren't your fault."

Thom stared at her. "What the Chaos has gotten into you? Was it the convent? Was it training with Jarinth? Was it your adorable little relationship with your dearest Prince? All I know is that, before we left Trebond, you had a head on your shoulders, and now you're as frivolous as the other brainwashed court ladies. You disgust me, Alanna. Get a life before you talk to me again."

---

Grief towed Alanna down to the Dove. Not wanting to face the night crowds of the pub, however, she circled around to the back alley that George's window faced. He had shown her this trick before, but she had never found reason to use it. Now, after climbing on top of the kitchen roof, opening his window with a lockpick, and lighting the candles, she sat on his bed, tucked her knees under her chin, and waited.

To her surprise, not three minutes had passed before the door opened and George entered. As soon as he saw her, he strode over to the bed, gathered her in his arms, and held her.

After awhile, her cheek still resting on his chest, she murmured, "How did you know I was up here?"

"I sensed you with my Sight."

She glanced up at him. "I forgot you had the Sight."

"Not many people know at all. It's not that strong, anyway, but it comes in handy when someone wants to knife me in the middle of the night."

"I'm glad you have it, then."

"Me too." He waited for a moment, and then asked, "You want to tell me what happened?"

"Nothing much, really. Thom and I got into a fight. I don't like him being so angry."

"What was the fight about?"

"He says I'm going soft in the head, that I'm trusting Roger too much for using him to get to my shield."

"Your shield?"

"Don't be silly. You know already."

He tightened his arms around her in a hug as he chuckled. "Tell me anyway."

So she told him, and he listened well. After making sure she had finished, he asked, "And Jon didn't say anything? He just sat there?"

"Oh, yeah. I got in a fight with him too."

"What was his problem?"

"He knew that, once I got my shield, I would be fighting more and everything, but he didn't want me to get hurt." When she felt George stiffen, she sat up to look at him. "What's wrong?"

He gazed at her, and then shook his head. "Nothing, lass. Jon just—Jon just—Jon…," he groped for the words but apparently couldn't find them because, after a moment, he sighed and shook his head. "Don't worry, lass. You didn't do anything wrong. And even if you had, I'd still be your friend."

Alanna laughed and hugged him. "Good. I'm glad."

"Why don't you come downstairs for awhile? You haven't been around for ages, and we're all missing you. Besides, they'll all want to celebrate your future knighthood."