The timelines are as close to the original canon as I could make them. If anyone else is so detail-oriented that they care to know, Tamora Pierce's provided timelines have a gap of about eleven years between the different books. I'm focusing more on keeping the relative ages the same, and all events from the Song of the Lioness trilogy will happen in approximately the right place."Swelling disease" is a suitably archaic-sounding term for cancer.

Please note: there are a lot of people that have already been lost. Alanna went to the convent, and the world DID change. Several of these losses are irreversible, and no person mentioned as dead in this chapter will unexpectedly come back to life for some later scene. Alanna is going to mend things as best she can, in time, but first she needs to realize just how much the country has lost.

Chapter One

Cold rain slapped against her face as Alanna stood on the path out in front of the manor, and mud seeped between the seams of the ill-fitting boots the cobbler had patched together. It was the perfect weather for a funeral.

"You kept her alive a full extra week, child," Maude said, her words as gentle as the handkerchief that wiped tears and rain alike from Alanna's cheeks. "She felt no pain. I don't think anyone knew just how strong you were in healing."

"It's no good, Maude. I couldn't save her," Alanna said, voice still choked. "What's the good of magic if I can't do anything useful?"

"Hush, lamb," Maude soothed, tucking the wet handkerchief away to readjust Alanna's shawl. "Duke Baird and his best couldn't do a thing about swelling disease at that stage. Your lady mother had her daughter for those last two weeks, and she had no pain."

"I promised her that I would finish my education at the convent," Alanna said, chin lifting a fraction.

Maude nodded approvingly. "She told me, Alanna, when you finally were sleeping. You made her eyes light like nobody else managed. She's proud of you, Alanna. Being a lady is harder than some realize."

Alanna took a deep, shuddering breath. "Thank you, Maude." Her tears had trickled to a stop, finally, leaving her fit for proper company. "Coram said that he and Thom would be coming, right?"

"They'll be here today, yes. I read the message on the dove myself before letting you come out in this weather. Thom's knightmaster will be here as well. I know that you've never met Duke Roger, but I've heard only good of him. The poor man was beside himself when their majesties lost the prince four years ago, came straight back from his work in Carthak."

Alanna stepped away when Maude produced a hairbrush, but Maude's expression made her reconsider. Even if it was almost unbearable to brush hair when it had dampened into messes of curls, she should at least be presentable for her mother's funeral. Maude had been one of her mother's closest friends, rank be damned, and this was for both of them. Alanna stilled and let Maude brush her hair with long, even strokes, just as she'd done for Lady Marinie. "I haven't seen Thom in years, Maude. We write letters, but not often, and it's like he's an entirely different person."

"He's an odd lad, that's all," Maude said. "Coram thinks sometimes that all the boy loves is magic, his knightmaster, and his favorite twin sister."

Alanna let a wry smile steal at her lips. Expressions had turned into calculated weapons, recently, but she could relax when there was nobody else to see. "Sometimes, I almost miss Coram more. He's much more cautious about sending letters. He'll add a postscript to Thom's, on occasion, but it's not the same as talking to him. Thom can be... vexing." It was too mild of a word, lately, but she loved her twin too much to say anything harsher.

Maude nodded, saving her opinions about Master Thom. The twins always had been close, but there always was a difference. Thom had ventured home weeks after his mother had taken sick. He was still a day from Trebond when Marinie had slipped away, her husband and daughter at her side. Maude directed her glare at the approaching horses, less than a minute away by the sound of the hoofbeats, but saved her softest voice for the lady of Trebond.

"Come now, lamb. You're the lady of this manor. I know you hate posture, but I know that you can be a credit to this rural manor."

"Rural in itself implies large spreads of land. Ours happen to be suitable for farming," Alanna said, with the superior glint in her eye that she had hated learning. Still, Maude's well-timed words had the precisely desired effect, and Alanna's back was as straight as a royal's. It felt wrong, but Maude smiled at that little display. "I can greet a duke, my brother, and my favorite man in the army."

"That's my girl," Maude said. "You've grown so much, my lady."

Alanna was somewhere between heartbreak and pride. Maude had called her mother by that title, and she didn't feel like the lady of Trebond. She didn't show that peculiar emotion, as was proper. Instead, she straightened her coarse wrap of black lace and stepped forward to greet her guests.

"Alanna!"

Sometimes, she couldn't stand her distant brother, and sometimes he wrapped his arms around her, and she could feel the muscle he had worked so hard to build, and she couldn't imagine living without a twin. "It's so good to see you," she said into his cropped hair, before pulling back so she could look at her brother. "What a sight you make, in your dress finery! Mother said that she knew that her boy would be a knight, you know."

"I'm sorry that I didn't make it Alanna, really," he began, but she stopped him. Alanna had never been able to hold a grudge against Thom for long.

"Mother didn't blame you, and I wouldn't. You'll just remember her in her prime, that's all." Alanna remembered her half-gone on her arrival, though she'd rather be rid of the memory. Only spells driven by power and desperation had brought her mother back from empty-eyed pain.

"Lady Alanna, is it?" Thom's knightmaster asked smoothly, ignoring the impropriety of greeting her brother and ignoring a ranked guest. "Why is it that such a beautiful lady would sequester herself among mountains?"

Alanna released her brother and gave a deep curtsy, as befitted a duke that was brother to the king. "You are kind, your Grace, but I am only sixteen. My debut in the formal court will be this fall." Roger took her hand gracefully, and she suppressed the urge to shudder when his lips grazed her gloved knuckles.

"I am sure that the court will find itself improved by your presence."

Her first encounter with a nobleman, and he made her skin crawl. Duke Roger's face was handsome, his body was well-muscled, and his voice and compliments were pleasant. It might be the circumstances that made her want to back away quickly. That measuring look of his didn't belong near anyone's funeral, but she wouldn't disgrace her fief's hospitality by making her distaste obvious. She didn't like him, but that couldn't show.

Alanna told herself that she was only angry because she couldn't greet Coram properly. A lady had to have perfect manners as dictated by society, and society controlled everything from the plain black trim on her gloves to the distant look in her eyes when she addressed the man that had taught her to ice skate.

"I trust the trip went well, Coram?" The words were cool, and her expression perfect in its distance, but Coram smiled at the supercilious lady.

"Very well, m'lady," he said with a shallow bow. "It's good to be home. I'll take the horses, now, with your permission. Squire Thom, your Grace."

That was her cue. "If you would be so kind as to join us inside, there are refreshments available. You are the last guests to arrive. The priest to the Black God will begin his service shortly," she said, and wondered why there was no hitch in her voice. Lady Thele had taught Alanna well, it seemed.

Time skipped and jumped, and she couldn't remember if the light luncheon went well or just what the Black God's priest had said in his eulogy. He had served the entire far-spread community, but had said many complimentary things about Lady Marinie. It seemed that everyone had adored her mother. Her father managed to choke out a few words as well, but that was all the world would ask of Lord Alan that day.

Then, it was time for her to stand. Alanna didn't understand why it was a lady's job, but it was her duty to perform. She stood, back straight, and let herself think that it was a stranger's casket. The carved roses in the blond wood were filled with water, and a weak current flowed down the trailing vines.

She looked to the hole. It was a rectangular gap in the earth eight feet deep, dug the day before Marinie had died. Their weather-telling mage, a wizened old man crying quietly in the third row of chairs, had predicted rain, and the sensible men responsible for such things as graves had dug the straight-sided chasm while the earth was dry and her mother was still alive.

Even the earth inside that hole was moving, oozing down, and nothing in her life had ever been as hard as looking to that priest of the Black God. She was a woman, the fairer gender, the weaker gender from what they all said, but she was the one to nod. The priest, his face hidden and secret, nodded in reply, then said some phrase in a whisper.

Alanna stood as the casket descended so gently into the hole, with such care that there was no jarring at the bottom. She had been the one to nod, so she was the first to look down in that hole and see the casket already touched with dirt. The only colors were shades of brown.

Alanna walked away, her steps perfectly even on ground as unsteady as her emotions. Since that first greeting, Thom might as well have been one of the assorted mourners who had offered their generic condolences. He seemed embarrassed that he had hugged her, and spent his time speaking with his knightmaster.

She didn't go into the house. Instead, she headed straight for the stables. Coram was there just half a minute later.

"There, lass, you're a beautiful lady," he said when she hugged him close. "I'll have to be beating the suitors away with my battlesword. Now, just why did my lady want a rough and tumble old soldier for company?"

"I don't want to be proper for just an hour, Coram. Can you- I need time to be alone," she said. Her earlier smooth words were gone, and she sounded all too close to tears.

"Let's just go in the forest," he said quietly. "There's no one there, and I'll be in earshot if you need me." Callused fingers wiped at her tears, smudging her carefully applied makeup when she nodded.

Thom had grown harder and colder under his watch. It was a relief to see that Alanna was the same as she had been, even if she had finally mastered the impulses that had gotten her in trouble so often as a child. He had already received the command from Thom that he would serve Alanna as a guard, when necessary, and for once Coram hadn't been annoyed by the boy's airs. Coram hadn't been able to do much at all for the young boy, but he at least would be able to help Alanna. He would bunk with the palace guardsmen, of course, but he could help her to hire a maid and be sure that the servants knew to look after her. She was less and less like her brother, and he couldn't help but approve.

He let her have her solitude. She had been a quarter hour alone in the forest, and he would give her much longer than that if there was a need. Coram would not have given her brother nearly so much time, but he was nearly finished with the boy. Thom had tried his patience the last years, and had only become a competent fighter under Duke Roger's guidance. It stung Coram more than a little, that he couldn't motivate the lad into reaching half his potential when his knightmaster managed affairs neatly in a matter of months.

Alanna would have dragged her feet all the way to Corus, to avoid learning magic, but at ten she'd still had more drive than Thom. She wanted to do great things, she had told him, earnest violet eyes catching his. He had believed her, and it had almost broken his heart to see her riding off to the convent, toes limply pointing down in the sidesaddle she hated.

He leaned against a tree, feeling the wet bark press through his dress jerkin. It was thin, and he would be setting it aside. The next formal occasion he would have would be Thom's Ordeal of Knighthood. The boy would make it, if only so Roger would teach him the extra skills needed to begin studying magic with the Mithran priests. Alanna's proud moment would be soon, but the arrangements for that were quieter. He would be in the uniform of the Palace Guard, so that he could see her grand entrance to the court without making any fuss. Duke Gareth had been immediately understanding when Coram made the request all those months ago, and now Coram would stand for Marinie as well.

He couldn't believe that Lady Marinie had died, and that he hadn't been able to see her. Thom and Roger had left ten days after the original announcement, and Thom could not spur his horse to a greater speed even when reports came that her health was weakening. Coram had thought of riding ahead, but that would shame Thom.

Coram didn't like magic, but he loved Alanna like she was his own flesh and blood. Maude had told him just what his lady had done. Marinie had been doing poorly, when Alanna arrived. The lady had been gray as death and retching, and the priest was already sitting vigil for the Black God. Alanna had taken her hand, and… Maude had shaken her head, and explained that she didn't understand big magic like that. It wasn't a spell. It was power and desire bound up so close that there wasn't any difference. When Maude rode with Alanna back to the convent, she would speak to a teacher. Coram had agreed without reservations. He wouldn't have to see the magic, and it was important that Alanna knew.

Coram heard- voices? He frowned, old senses stealing back as if he was a corporal at just past twenty. He was in charge of just ten men, to be sure, and they were a mass among thousands, but he had been the one to save late Duke Gareth's life, once. There was a younger Gareth, now, one that until lately had been as mischievous as his father. Thom didn't get on with the bigger lad, but Thom got on with no one but Roger and the mirror in recent days.

He didn't sense any danger, and hadn't heard any crying after the first ten minutes. He had thought that she had just stopped her sobs, but she didn't talk to herself. The very sound of that strange voice replying to her was worse than that feeling just before the horn blew the charge; it was anticipating that insane motion forward that had won that war, feeling the men around him tense and ready, trying to clear his mind even as fear and glory battled.

He moved forward, heavy feet making no sound in the soaked forest ground. Even if it was a harmless meeting, he wanted to know who trespassed in Trebond's woods.

He had heard the oath "By the Goddess," and many oaths stronger and less religious, frequently. He had been a soldier, after all, and soldiers weren't renowned for polite speaking. Until that moment, though, with the budding trees slowing the heavy drops of rain, and the forest yielding beneath his knees, he hadn't understood the sense of wonder that should accompany it.

His Alanna, his lady, took a glowing coal from the Goddess. Alanna's hands were shaking, just as his were, and Alanna said something with surprise as she peered at the ember in her hands. The Lady smiled and said something in reply, and for a second her gaze flicked his way. His heart stopped and leapt at once—and then it was over, and the Lady was gone. Even the merest whisper of her voice had power behind it, and no rain had fallen on her. He knew, more than he knew any matter of being a soldier, that he had seen the Goddess.

He pulled himself up with an obliging tree, and saw his incredulous look reflected in Alanna's face. She looked as if she would be beaming, if it all wasn't too confusing, and she was every inch a lady.

"Put your wrap back on your shoulders, lady," he said, the rough words coming before thought could prompt them. "You'll catch cold sooner than wet."

"He needs it more," she said, shifting the thick lace to reveal a bedraggled kitten.

Coram touched the small kitten, feeling its pulse. There would be no convincing Alanna to take the covering off of the scrap of fur and bones, but she didn't protest when he draped his cloak over her. "He'll be just fine. Now, let's get you inside," he said, noticing that her hand was loosely closed over a stone that glowed from the inside. His lady had a token from the Goddess, and even he knew enough of lore to realize that she was one of those rare souls that just might become a legend.

"Yes, I think he will," she said, looking at the bundle of black. The kitten yawned, showing sharp ivory teeth against pink mouth, and opened sleepy eyes.

Coram would have dropped his sword, if it had ever left its scabbard. The kitten had purple eyes.

"Sister Thele told of times the Goddess would come to a woman," Alanna said, distant wonder in her eyes. "I think it would be best to tell no one but Maude just yet, though."

"Not Thom?" Coram asked, troubled. He and Maude might lose patience with Thom's ways, but Alanna…

"Not Thom," she said, gracefully stepping over a tricky gnarl of roots. "I need time to think about this, and I will be returning to the convent next week. Sister Emmarie was kind enough to offer extra lessons to compensate for any I have missed."

Coram had collected himself enough to take her arm. There was no one here to see, and she was distracted with kitten and token. There had been a few minutes to speak with Maude, before the funeral, and she had told him of Alanna's promise. Alanna had hated every minute of learning to be a lady, it seemed, but Coram was fairly certain that it would be better when she had reached the capital. He'd be able to look out for her, there, and perhaps she would do what Coram hadn't been able to manage.

Alanna was the only person with a hope of bringing Thom back to himself, and finally drawing the boy away from Duke Roger's influence. Her fall debut couldn't come soon enough.