Alanna heard a rustling in the bushes and crept towards it. When she opened the bush and thrust Lightning into it she found nothing. Swearing softly she moved back to her post, watching Roger.

Chapter Fourteen

One Year Ago:

Alanna paced back in forth in her room three weeks later, pondering all that she had heard. The Duke's funeral had been that morning, and had left everyone mourning. Alanna had thought about going to visit Gary, but had decided against it, figuring that he wanted to be alone.

In fact, right now everyone she knew wanted to be alone--except her. It was funny, Alanna thought, but right now she wanted nothing more than to be comforted by her friends. . . But it was Gary they should all be comforting not her--right?

You'll wear a hole in the floor and fall in on whoever lives in the room below, Faithful chided, getting up and making a small circle, then flopping back down on the unmade bed. I know how you feel, but you can't do anything right now.

"I hate it!" Alanna snarled, rounding on her cat with clenched fists. "I hate not knowing what they're planning next--who they'll strike. They attacked the Royal Family, Faithful. It's only because of Duke Gareth's sacrifice that they aren't dead. Who knows who's next?"

Faithful washed his face with a paw, calm as ever. But you can't do anything. This fact remains. For now you should focus on not worrying, helping your friend, and being strong. When they do strike--you should be ready.

Alanna sighed, sitting down next to her cat. Her anger washed away, as if it had never been. Suddenly she felt calm, even relaxed. Alanna shook her head, trying to clear it--but she couldn't. She was tired, sleepy.

Yes, she thought. Sleep, that will make everything alright.

Alanna shut her violet eyes, leaning back against the wall.

"MROW!" Faithful launched himself at Alanna's face, clawing at her shirt and hair. Wake up! he yelled.

Alanna sat bolt upright, ignoring the stinging scratches her cat had left. Standing before her was a man with a knife, bloodied in the face with what looked like claw marks. He was advancing now, ignoring the black folds of material that had been torn from his face. Alanna recognized him with sudden clarity--and fear.

Alexander of Tirragen came towards her, a dagger in hand. He stabbed. Alanna rolled to the side, ducking as she fell to the floor. She leapt to her feet, looking wildly around for a weapon. Lightning was on the other side of the room, glimmering in its sheath.

Alex charged, lunging with the dagger. Alanna ducked, rolling to the side. She leapt to her feet once more, grabbing for her own dagger--it was gone. Swearing, Alanna dodged blow after blow, trying to move towards Lightning.

Faithful, seeing what his mistress was doing, launched himself on the back of Alex's head. Alex screamed in pain and tried to ram the cat into the wall. Faithful leapt clear and clung to Alex's head, clawing him.

Alanna charged for all her might. She turned in time to see something silver and shining fly at her, but couldn't dodge the flying dagger. Trying to remember everything George had taught her about dirty fighting, Alanna flung her body to the right, and felt the dagger bury itself in her left shoulder. The pain was bad, but not unbearable.

Faithful leapt from Alex, scaled the curtains, and flew at him again as Alex charged. It gave Alanna the moment she needed. She ripped the dagger loose and threw it back at Alex, who dodged, but slipped on the ripped curtains that were on the ground. Alanna grabbed Lighting, ripping it from its sheath and turning to face Alex.

He had his sword out too, and was smiling cruelly. "Get out of here!" Alanna screeched to Faithful, blocking as Alex swung down, then tried to break her guard from below. "Get help!"

Faithful leapt down from his perch on the curtains, and bounced off Alex's head, his claws out the whole time. He flew through the open door, screaming that he'd be back soon.

"It's just you and me now," Alex said, his eyes flashing dangerously. He lunged in to the left, darted out, went to the right then came up and over.

Alanna dodged the first strike, parried the second, and the third grazed off her arm as she threw herself out of his sword's path. She rolled, climbed to her feet, and was driven to her knees as he crashed his sword onto Lightning's hilt, coming body-to-body.

"Prepare to die, Trebond!"

It was true. Alanna was being pushed onto her back, and if she didn't get out soon then she would be dead. Swearing, Alanna did the only thing she could. Violet fire lanced through Lightning, lending the sword power. Alanna pushed back up, dropped the sword and rolled to the side as Alex's came down where she had been.

Now it was his turn to swear, and round on her. Alanna charged him, as she had once done to Ralon of Malven. She hit him around the waist with her shoulder, then grabbed his sword arm, pulling it behind him.

Alex spun around, kicking her in the stomach. He wrenched his arm loose and dropped his sword, tackling her to the ground.

Alanna didn't waste breath for swearing. She tried to shove him off, but wrestling was her weak point. Instead she elbowed him in the stomach as George had taught her when she was pinned. Then she grabbed his hair, pulling it as hard as she could.

Alex screamed in pain, but Alanna held on tight, being sure to kick him in the stomach as she crawled out from under him. She pushed him to the ground and got on his back, pushing both her knees into his shoulders, still pulling on his hair. "Give up, Alex?" Alanna panted.

"Not on your life," Alex snarled. He threw his elbow into her face, and Alanna fell off, swearing at not being on her guard. She leapt sideways as he charged, and ran behind him as he skidded to a halt, inches from the wall. She grabbed Lightning from the ground, lunging for his sword.

"Now, now."

Alanna reached his sword just as a foot in black came down on it. She looked up and saw a man with dirty-blond hair, smiling at her. He was incredibly handsome, with a chiseled jaw, straight nose and sparkling silver eyes. He was wearing all black--black shirt, black breeches, black boots--and that made his eyes and hair stand out even more. Alanna wondered if Jon was that handsome for a moment, then shook the thought away.

"I suggest you put that sword down--you don't want to have to fight two of us," the man said, offering her a hand. Alanna glanced between him and Alex, who was standing next to the taller man with his arms crossed over his chest.

The voice of the man was familiar, but a higher note than the one she attached it too. Besides, how could anyone so handsome be so cruel? "Come now, lad," the man said, smiling warmly. "Give me your hand and I'll help you up. We aren't after you. You merely got in the way."

Alanna got to her feet, brushing his hand away and tightening her hold on Lightning. Now that the fight was over and the adrenaline rush had gone, her left shoulder ached terribly, and her stomach hurt. Blood was pooling up on her shirt too, which meant that Alex had gotten her at some point. She couldn't take them both on, that was true. Alanna decided to buy some time, hoping that Faithful would be back soon--with help.

"I'm called Dreke Coal, Nicholas's brother. I'm sure you've heard of him--from Roger? He's the one with the magic you spoke of. Fool."

Alex shifted beside Dreke, Alanna noticed. He was moving slowly into a fighting stance. Alanna didn't wait. She lunged him, Lightning piercing his defenses--he wasn't ready. Lightning drew blood from his thigh, battered his sword arm, and cut a shallow line down his chest. Then Alanna knocked him to the ground, sending his sword flying.

"You should be ready for anything," Alanna hissed, holding Lightning at his throat.

"You're good, Trebond, that I admit." He smiled at her, the rest of his ripped face-mask falling off his mysterious face. "But I didn't fight you for them--I fought for me. And I will kill you, never fear."

Alanna made a childish face at him, removing Lightning from his throat. He stood up, glaring at Dreke, who hadn't done anything.

Dreke raised his hands, shrugging. "It's not my place to doanything, Alex," Dreke pointed out, crossing his arms. "Now, Trebond, we owe you an apology. Alex had no permission to attack you, and did so unprovoked. We were after the Prince, you were merely here."

"I was not 'merely here'!" Alanna snarled, tightening her grip on Lightning. She decided to wonder later about why they hadn't just used the Prince's door. "I am my Prince's squire, I will not let you kill him--not without a fight!"

"Brave words from a small scamp," Dreke pointed out, frowning. "Nonetheless, you did have a fair fight against Alex. I witnessed it. But I must mention that. . . er. . . this wasn't supposed to happen. Alex wasn't supposed to fight you. Now, will you please let us into 'your Prince's rooms?"

Alanna spat on the floor at his feet. Staring up into his handsome face she hissed, "Never will I betray Jonathan."

Dreke shrugged. "Have it your way." Alanna felt a familiar drowsiness coming over her again--taking her.

"Alan!"

Alanna recognized the voice. . . Jon, she thought weakly. "Go," she whispered, pleading him to leave. But he wouldn't. He caught her as she fell into unconsciousness, and the last thing she heard was Dreke sneering, "So, you're Jonathan of Conté?"

Hahaha! Review please, or else. . . I'll do something worse to Jon than I had planned! Hope you liked!