Thoughts were running back and forth, chasing each other through her head. There was no time for the present now, for Alanna of Trebond was caught in the past, the wretchedly horrible past.

Chapter Seven

Two Years Ago:

"Oh dear."

The voice was soft and light, obviously feminine.

Alanna was shaken to the core, and by the stiffness in his arms, so was Jon. Slowly, they pulled apart, and looked at the speaker. She was no taller than Alanna, and with a flowing pink dress. Her blond hair fell all around her shoulders, and the shocked look in her eyes made Alanna shudder.

"Lady Cynthia," Jon said pleasantly, standing up. "Can I help you with something?"

She backed away from him as though he was the black plague, fumbling for the door. "No, quite all right. I just came to ask Alan if he wanted to talk with me for a while. I-I heard about his brother."

"Oh. Tragic wasn't it?" Alanna felt a wave of gratitude. Jonathan was trying to use his charm to make her forget it. But then, who would believe it anyway?

"Tortall's Prince, heir to the Throne, Jonathan of Conté, found making out with his squire--?"

King Roald and Queen Lianne wouldn't have it! And no one would believe it. Except for those who weren't fond of the royal family. But with people like Roald and Lianne on the throne, no one disliked them much.

"I'll just be leaving now," Lady Cynthia said hurriedly, backing out the door as Jon stalked towards her. "Goodbye." With that she rushed from the room, slamming the door behind her.

Jon sighed, flopping down on the bed beside Alanna. "That was utterly and ridiculously crazy," he said tiredly.

Alanna swallowed, trying to get the taste of fear out of her mouth. "Yeah. . . No one will believe her though, will they?"

"Believe what? That I sleep with my squire? Not likely."

"But if they do?"

Jon propped himself up on one elbow and looked at her, his eyes wide and a cocky smile on his face. "How many people are going to believe that Tortall's Prince is homosexual?"

"And how many aren't?" Alanna snapped. She was instantly sorry. "Sorry."

"Alanna, don't worry about it." He grabbed a stand of her hair between his fingers and started playing with it. "There is nothing to worry about. No one will believe her, and if they do, tough. Does it matter if the whole palace thinks we do that?"

She couldn't help it, she laughed. "I think they'll think we're crazy if they think that."

Jon grinned, dropping her hair and kissing her. When he let go he said, "Would it make you feel better if I took Gary to the next ball?"

"Eww!" Alanna giggled, slapping his arm. "Gary's your cousin. Take Raoul."

"Can't, Raoul won't even admit that he likes girls, much less men."

Alanna laughed again. Jon put his arms around her neck and kissed her, pulling her down onto the bed. "Let's worry about it again in the morning," he whispered, coming up for air.

"The door's not locked."

"Let 'em think we're having fun, see if I care."

Alanna's palms were sweating as she paced back and forth outside the King and Queens royal chambers. It had been a week since Lady Cynthia had witnessed that and only now was the information going about. Most people just thought that Lady Cynthia had a few loose screws, those that didn't. . .

Alanna shuddered and forced herself not to think about that. Jonathan was with his parents now, telling them how much of a lie it was. And if they didn't believe him, Jon and Alanna had agreed on plan B.

The only problem with plan B was, whose head would they want? Alanna's--? or Jon's? But Alanna suspected -- hoped -- that King Roald and Queen Lianne wouldn't let the mobs kill either one of them.

She knew they wouldn't let anyone have Jon's, because he was Tortall's heir. Besides, who would want his?

But then another thought struck. Who would want anybody's head? And yet, people still did.

Alanna shuddered. The door opened a crack.

"Alan--? will you please come here?" King Roald poked his head out. Briefly, Alanna met the King's eyes. In them she saw concern, and vague humor.

She almost leapt with joy. It looked as if the King and Queen believed Jon. She followed Roald back into the room. They were in Roald's personal study. A fireplace lay quiet across from the door, and four large, cushy chairs were seated all around. Jon, Lianne, and Roald, who had just sat, were seated in one of these each. Lianne motioned for Alanna to take the last. She looked better than she had the last time Alanna had seen the Queen, but she hadn't looked up to her peak since the Sweating Sickness.

Alanna sat, and glanced at Jon. He didn't look at her, but kept his eyes fixed on his parents, relaxing in the chair with strange elegance. He was leaning back, with his arms crossed over his chest, and one ankle resting on the other knee.

"Father, this is silly," Jonathan said, shaking his head. "Why would Alan tell you other than the truth? Which is what I told you."

"I just want confirmation," Roald replied, smiling.

Jon closed his eyes, then shook his head. "This is silly. Lady Cynthia is obviously having some problems with the adjustments here at the palace. That's all, Father. Alan is merely my squire and my best friend, nothing else. I like court ladies."

Alanna bit down on her tongue to stop that laugh that was bursting to come out. The way Jon had said it. . . It was just so funny!

"Alan of Trebond, do you swear by Tortall that the rumors are not true? That there is nothing but friendship between you and Prince Jonathan."

Alanna gulped. That was a lot to swear by. She glanced at Jon, to find that he had his eyes half shut and was barely watching with a relaxed air about him. His mood calmed her fragile nerves, and she said, "I swear."

"Now." Jon leapt to his feet. "Now that that's done with, can we stop these silly rumors? They're ruining my reign and it hasn't even started."

Roald and Lianne smiled. "We'll do our best, son," Jon's mother told him.

"Thank you. Alan--?"

Alanna got up and mutely followed Jon out of the room. She closed the door behind them and followed him to the stables.

"Let's go for a ride," he suggested, entering the stables.

"Alright." Alanna tacked up Moonlight, giving her a quick once-over first. Then the two mounted and headed out for the royal forest.

"Wait up!" someone called.

Alanna twisted in her saddle, and spotted Gary, riding after them. He was on a big bay stallion named Titan. They waited for him to catch up, and then headed into the royal forest, now the three of them.

"So, what's going on?" Gary demanded, prodding Alanna in the ribs from the right. (Jon was riding on her left.) "Is it true? Did Lady Cynthia really catch the two of you. . . offending?"

Alanna burst out laughing. Moonlight shied from the sudden sound that she hadn't expected. It took her a minute to get the mare under control, but then she moved back into their riding formation. " 'Offending'?" she asked, grinning broadly.

"You know, doin' that? You could have at least told Raoul and I that you two do that. Then we could have had all of Jon's court Lady's by telling them that he likes men." Gary grinned.

They turned onto a little dirt path that wound its way from one side of the royal forest to the other

"So, tell!" Gary demanded, poking Alanna in the ribs again. This time she grabbed his hand, and bent his middle finger back until he started whining.

"Stop poking me, or I'll do worse than that." Alanna's voice was soft and deadly, like a killers, but neither man missed the humor burning in her violet eyes. She let go of his hand and turned her attention back to the path. "Race you," she shouted, spurring Moonlight into a gallop.

"Hey!" Jon shouted. She heard the sound of the others moving their horses forward, but she was miles ahead before they'd even started. She turned back to riding, and whooped in sheer joy as Moonlight's hooves pounded below her.

Moonlight neighed to the wind, picking up more speed, adding to Alanna's screams of joy with screams of her own. But they weren't screams of joy. They were screams of pure terror.

Alanna pulled on the reins, gently at first, then more urgently. But Moonlight was running as if something was chasing her with a red-hot branding iron. She wouldn't stop.

Alanna glanced around, looking for something. Moonlight picked up even more speed, running as if from the devil himself.

"She is running from the devil."

Alanna clung with all her life to Moonlight. The voice was so very familiar, and yet she had no idea whose voice it was.

"Ha ha ha!" The voice stung her ears, and then, as if something struck her, Alanna flew from the saddle, pitching into the deep forest. "Alan of Trebond."

Then all was black.

R-E-V-I-E-W. I'd like to tell everyone how much I appreciated all the reviews I got last chapter. Thanks for reading, thanks for reviewing. An extra big thanks to tortallanrider, my best reviewer, and elven cats eyes and cheeseycraziness, all my most loyal reviewers for this story. Hope you continue to like it, though I'm not sure how often I can update. Thanks!