Coram ran to Alanna's tent, hoping that the report wasn't accurate.
He heard a vaguely familiar male voice as he neared the tent and burst in before he could think better of it.
"What are the likes of ye doin' here?" Coram demanded.
"Proposin'," George said cheekily, earning him a quick glare from Alanna.
"Proposing!?" Coram sputtered in anger and disbelief for a moment before continuing, "Ye think yerself good enough for her? Her family's in the Book of Gold."
"Coram-" Alanna tried to interject, but Coram kept right ongoing.
"She is an upstandin' lady of Tortall. She's fit to marry a prince, not a no good-"
"CORAM!" Alanna said, standing this time to emphasize her point. "He's the soon-to-be Lord of Olau, and he's the one who helped me find my footing after the war. You don't have to like him, but you will treat him with respect."
Coram's thoughts about this were plain on his beet-red face, but he held his tongue until he finally spit out, "Can ye give me and the lady a moment alone?"
"Of course," George said and left them to it.
"Ye can't possibly be considering marryin' him?" Coram said in a harsh whisper.
Alanna barked a humorless laugh. "Since every other man in my life has apparently decided my future, why not you too?"
That caused Coram to abandon the speech he was about to give her and simply ask, "What's that about?"
Alanna relayed what George had told her and was surprised to find a few tears rolling down her cheeks by the end.
Coram's anger abated as he handed her his handkerchief. "I think that would be enough to overwhelm anyone, Lass." He gave her a fatherly hug that she accepted gratefully.
"What are ye goin' to do?" He asked finally when the tears stopped.
"I don't know," she said. "None of this is what I planned, and now it seems everyone else is planning for me."
"I can't believe I'm defendin' them, but it's because they care for you. Even if this time they're dead wrong."
"Give him a chance?" Alanna said, putting a hand on his arm. "I don't know what I want yet, but he's one of my best friends, and he's a good man if a little crooked."
"Those two things can't both be true in my experience'," Coram said. "But for ye, I'll try. But promise me ye won't sell yerself short. Yer a Lady of Trebond, and nothing will change that."
He patted her shoulder and left her to her thoughts.
"You can come in now," Alanna called when she knew Coram was out of earshot.
George swept in and sat down beside her.
"You heard that whole thing, didn't you?" She asked.
"I may 'ave," he said. "And I won't push you for a decision, but I will remind you, as I have before, that I've been trying to get you to wed me since you were fifteen and happily pretendin' to be a lad. I'm not tryin' to dictate your life - my motives remain purely self-servin'."
"This is George Cooper, a close friend of mine and of Prince's Jonathan's. By your leave, he will be staying with us until I make my return to the North," Alanna said as they sat down to the evening meal with the tribe later that evening.
"Any friend of the Voice and of the Woman Who Rides Like a Man is welcome among us," Halef Seif said with a tone of strict formality.
"I thank you," George replied. "And if there is any way that I can be of help to you and yours, let me know. I've no wish to be a burden to you while I'm here."
"Thank you, we will consider your offer," the headman said, still with a stoic expression. "We will have a tent set up for you shortly."
George gave Alanna a quick sideways glance, but she remained silent.
"Thank you for your hospitality," George replied.
As the meal continued, no one but Alanna spoke to George, though more than a few times, he noticed people glancing at him surreptitiously.
When the other members of the tribe began to commune with the Voice, George and Alanna walked a little ways off together.
"Lass, I was rather hoping that I wouldn't need my own tent," George began after a stretch of silence.
"I know," Alanna replied, "but I don't think that's a good idea right now."
"Your tribe would like me even less?" George asked.
"Well, yes, they are quite traditional in that way, but it's not just that. I need some space to think. And being with you in that way...wouldn't help."
"You mean if you get into bed with me, you won't be able to resist my charms?" George said teasingly.
"Whatever you wish to tell yourself," Alanna replied.
"I understand," George said seriously. "Whatever you need."
George's next two days among the Bazhir were equally cold and clipped. He and Alanna enjoyed spending time together again, but she was often busy with shaman duties or training her apprentices. The Bazhir didn't take him up on his offer to help, and Coram avoided him altogether.
This left George bored and somewhat bemused. He usually had no trouble ingratiating himself to people, but his every attempt among the tribesmen was rebuffed.
"Do they always take this long to warm to outsiders?" George asked after three days of cold treatment from the tribe.
Alanna shook her head.
"Did I do somethin' wrong?" he asked.
Alanna sighed. "I think the issue is that you're not Jon."
"I swore myself to the man," George said irritatedly. "Is that not enough?"
"You did?" Alanna asked.
George nodded. "Figured if I was goin' to do this thing, I would do it right."
"Oh. Good. I'm glad to hear it."
"But why is my not bein' him a problem?"
"Jon and I were - um - together for the entire time we were out here, and I think the tribe expects me to rush back to him when I'm done with Kara and Kourrem. It's only been a few weeks since they last saw us together. And I think a few people probably heard you and Coram discussing why you're here, which means it's all over the camp."
"That explains it," George said.
They sat in silence for a moment before Alanna smacked herself on the forehead. "Oh! I should have thought of this before. They literally talk to Jon every night. I should get him to say something...You did say that he approves of this, right?"
George nodded.
"Alright, I'll see what I can do. And maybe I can find something for you to do in the meantime."
Alanna first thought of asking Coram to relay her request to Jon but then thought better of it and went to find Kara.
"George has the sight," Alanna explained, "which is another form of magic you should be aware of."
"Can you do fireballs?" Kourrem asked excitedly, then looked ashamed at her outburst as Kara gave her a look.
"Oh, you don't need magic for fireballs. Give me strong liquor, a good pair of blacksmith bellows, a flint, an-"
"Can we keep to the task at hand?" Alanna said, cutting him off.
Both girls looked disappointed, but they forgot about it quickly as George demonstrated his own supernatural abilities.
They walked around the encampment, instructing everyone they encountered to try to deceive George by telling him a mixture of truths and lies. He saw through the lies every time.
Whatever Jonathan said combined with George's show of skill had a noticeable impact right away. The Bazhir prided themselves on being a clear-eyed people, and they viewed George's supernatural perceptiveness as a mark in his favor. They still didn't accept him entirely, but they were willing to engage with him and treated him with their standard warmth instead of stiff courtesy.
George even coaxed Coram into talking to him by striking up a conversation about the beers they missed most from Corus.
"I'm just lookin' out for her, you know," Coram said quietly at the end of their conversation.
"As am I," George replied.
The gathering of shamans had only grown since Jonathan left as more and more tribes realized what knowledge was to be gained by sending representatives. Alanna and her apprentices joined them from time to time, and eventually, they heard about George's sight. Soon they were asking him for more demonstrations.
"The sight is present among the Bazhir," one of the visiting shamans explained to George and Alanna, "but it is not honored. Those who have it tend not to talk of it. This is a mistake, I think. We must use the tools we are given."
The shamans asked George for various displays of power and enlisted his help in cataloging what he knew of the different variations of the sight and ways to train those who had it. This was a welcome development for both of them since now George had finally found something valuable to contribute.
George shook his head as he walked away from Alanna's tent. She was really and truly getting weaving lessons! She never ceased to surprise him.
Suddenly Kara and Kourrem appeared carrying a jug of liquor and what George quickly realized must be the Bazhir version of blacksmith bellows. The girls grinned up at him, showing him what they carried.
"We don't have much time," Kara said. "What else do you need?"
Alanna and Mari, her weaving instructor, left Alanna's tent just in time to see a rush of flame spring seemingly out of nowhere and disappear almost as fast as it had come. The blast was immediately followed by two cries of delight.
Alanna and Mari exchanged a look, and as Mari left to go the other way and Alanna started toward her apprentices. It was only then that she noticed that Coram was manning the bellows and drinking in the girls' mirth.
"That traitor!" Alanna said to Faithful as the cat ambled up beside her.
"You wanted them to get along," the cat reminded her.
"Can't you ever just sympathize with me instead of throwing my words back in my face?" Alanna asked as she picked him up and began petting him.
"No," Faithful replied, then began purring contentedly.
Alanna might have said something else but lost her train of thought as another bout of flame shot out into the desert.
