Lioness Rampant

3 THE WARLORD’S DAUGHTER

ALANNA DIDN’T HAVE TO REPEAT IT—Liam heard. Rising from his crouch, he let his weapon fall. Alanna put Lightning down. To have Liam caught because a girl-child had the drop on her was humiliating. She was supposed to be able to take care of herself!

“Amazing,” Alanna’s captor said. “We go hunting for game, and we find you instead.”

Alanna heard Coram swear in the distance. “Coram, are you all right?” she yelled.

“Some lass is aimin’ a crossbow at me,” was the response. “Only my dignity’s hurt, so far.”

Alanna’s guard called, “Thayet?”

“I’m all right, Buri.” The voice was female, deep, and clear.

Black eyes locked on Alanna. “Start walking,” Buri ordered.

“I won’t leave my sword in the dirt,” Alanna snapped.

The stocky girl stooped to grab Lightning, her crossbow sight never moving from Alanna’s chest. “Now go,” she commanded. “Hands in the air.”

“Shame your mother didn’t drown you at birth,” Alanna muttered, obeying.

“What makes you think she didn’t?”

Awaiting them were refugees; their belongings overburdened a donkey. The group itself was small: two teenaged girls, two boys aged ten or so, and a girl nearly the same age. One of the teenagers carried a baby.

Coram approached, leading their horses. Guarding him was a woman of Alanna’s age, dressed in a split skirt, boots, a cotton shirt, and a fleece-lined vest. She bore her crossbow like one who knew its use. She was also the most beautiful female Alanna had ever seen. Her face—particularly her nose—was strong-boned; her hazel eyes were deep-set under even brows; her chin was determined. Her mouth was naturally red, accented by ivory skin. She wore her jet-black hair pulled into a knot.

Alanna sighed. “Cute” was the best description she could hope for.

Liam bowed to the young woman. “Your Royal Highness.”

“Have we met, sir?” Hers was the voice that had answered Buri.

“No, Highness.” Despite his peasant’s accent, the Dragon was as gallant as a noble. “But I’d have to be blind not to recognize a daughter of the Wilima house.”

Thayet jian Wilima smiled. “Sadly, I do take after my father,” the princess admitted. She fingered the curve of her nose.

Alanna stared at Thayet. The princess had once been considered as a wife for Jon, but the queen had said no—there was bad blood in the Wilima line. But seeing her, Alanna thought it was too bad Jon couldn’t marry this one. She didn’t look as if she’d let him stand on his dignity for long. The idea made her grin.

Buri poked her with her bow. “Her Highness isn’t someone to laugh at.”

“Don’t, Buri,” Thayet said. “These people aren’t enemies.”

“We don’t know they’re friends.”

Liam glanced at Alanna’s guard. “Believe me, K’mir, if I wanted to turn the tables on you, I would.” He feinted to the side and lunged forward. Before Alanna could see what he’d done, Buri sat in the dirt, her crossbow in Liam’s hands. He offered it back to her as she rose. Buri took it, her eyes filled with respect. She put the arrow in her quiver and holstered the bow with a nod.

Her reaction made Alanna like her. From what she knew of the K’mir tribes to Sarain’s north, Buri probably was reared as a warrior. She took being disarmed well.

Liam performed the introductions. When he gave Alanna’s titles, Buri whispered, “A full knight is a woman—a noblewoman?”

Coram bristled. “She has the bluest blood in Tortall,” he growled. “There never was a zhir or jin anythin’ fit t’polish a Trebond boot.”

“Coram,” Alanna sighed.

“The family’s in The Book of Gold,” added Coram. “No zhir or even zhirit were writ down till The Book of Silver—”

“I think it’s wonderful,” Thayet interrupted. “It’s time we nobles showed we aren’t delicate flowers, instead of leaving the glory to our Shang and K’miri sisters.” Changing the subject diplomatically, she asked, “Where are you three bound?”

Coram told them about their journey (but not its object) as Alanna appraised Thayet’s group. They were tired; the children’s faces were gray with exhaustion. How long had they been traveling, and how much longer could they go?

Coram arrived at the same conclusion. “If ye’ll forgive my sayin’ it, yer Highness, ye need help. Where’re ye and the young ones bound?”

“The Mother of Waters in Rachia,” Buri replied. “All of us but Thayet and the baby and me were students in the convent Mother of Mountains. The baby, Thayet … found.”

“Soldiers killed his family,” volunteered the girl who carried the infant. “Everyone but him, poor little man.”

Alanna did some calculations. “Rachia’s four days’ ride south,” she said. “Except you’re afoot—those of you who can walk.”

“We had no choice,” Thayet said. “Zhir Anduo’s army was coming.”

“Doesn’t the Warlord have men to protect you?” Liam asked.

“They ran.” Buri was plainly contemptuous.

Thayet protested, “Buri, that’s not fair. They were afraid,” she told Liam. “They had no way of knowing if their families were safe.”

Buri shrugged. “In plain talk, it still means they ran.” Thayet glared at her companion.

Smoothing his mustache, Liam said, “Coram’s right, you need us. We’ll get you to the Mother of Waters.”

Buri wasn’t willing to accept this. “We don’t need them!” she told Thayet hotly. “We don’t even know if they’re on our side …”

“Don’t be silly, Buri,” Thayet replied. “I haven’t heard Alanna’s name, but I know about Liam Ironarm. People like this don’t prey on people like us.”

“There’s a first time for everything,” the K’mir muttered.

Thayet’s response was in K’mir. Buri looked away, and Thayet turned to Alanna with a smile. “Please understand. Buri’s family has served my mother’s family for generations. That means I can’t tell her to do anything. She’ll always say what’s on her mind—no matter how much it embarrasses me—and she behaves as she pleases.”

Alanna looked at Coram, who hid a grin. “I understand, Princess Thayet,” the knight said dryly. “I, too, suffer from old family servants.”

“If this is settled, I want to set up camp,” Liam interrupted. “The little ones are asleep on their feet.”

Alanna and Buri exchanged looks for a moment—Alanna’s measuring, Buri’s sullen. Finally Buri nodded. “If that’s the way it has to be.”

“It is,” Thayet snapped.

They camped where they were, the men settling the children after they’d been fed. Alanna took the first watch, enjoying the quiet. She had a feeling she wouldn’t have too much quiet to enjoy for a week or so.

“Me and Thayet were fine before you came.” Buri spoke unexpectedly, and Alanna jumped. Hadn’t she learned once tonight, on the ridge, that this K’mir made no noise when she moved? “Thayet’s K’miri-taught, and I’m K’miri-bred. We take care of ourselves.”

Alanna felt a surge of empathy. She understood this girl-warrior’s pride. “For you and Thayet that might be enough, though I’m not sure. An entire army’s looking for her. But what if something happens to you? The little ones will starve.”

Buri sat on the ground beside her. “I’m supposed to look after Thayet,” she explained. “I help with the children, but I’m not good at it the way she is. And I can’t leave them to die. What’ve they done?”

“So the princess is your chief responsibility. If anything happens to her while you’re worrying about the children, you will blame yourself.”

Buri nodded. “You probably think that’s foolish.”

“Not at all.” Alanna felt as if she spoke to herself when she was Prince Jonathan’s squire. “Coram and Liam and I will help you make sure Thayet’s unharmed, all right?”

They sat together for a while, saying nothing. At last the K’mir stood and offered Alanna her hand. “I’m glad you joined us,” she said as the knight returned her grip. “I didn’t like the idea of taking on any armies by myself.”

Alanna hid a grin. “Thayet would’ve helped,” she pointed out.

“Unh-unh,” was the emphatic reply. “You think I’d let Kalasin’s daughter endanger herself? I’d put her somewhere safe, where she couldn’t get in trouble.”

Yes, Faithful said when Buri returned to her bed. She is very much like you at that age.

“Surely I didn’t think I could beat an army singlehanded!”

You still do.

“The trouble with arguing with a cat is that cats don’t hesitate to say anything about you, no matter how crazy it is,” she complained. “You can’t win an argument that way!”

Nor should you try. With that, Faithful trotted off for a walk in the forest.

The next morning Liam and Alanna did their dawn exercises. “I don’t care how strange yesterday was,” he told Alanna when she grumbled. “You don’t get good unless you practice.” The worst of it was that he was right. Were he and Faithful in a plot to make her feel young and ignorant?

Liam cooked breakfast as Alanna roused their companions. Once they were fed, the company was ready to set out. Buri and Coram erased signs of their camp: Bandits who would ignore three people would attack a large party. Liam let the boys and the ten-year-old girl ride his placid Drifter. He led the horse, keeping a sharp eye on their surroundings. Thayet walked, the baby in a sling on her chest; Buri stayed with her princess. Coram’s Anvil bore the teenaged girls. Then came the packhorse Bother and the donkey (who kept well away from the bad-tempered Bother). Riding at the rear of the column, keeping an eye on their surroundings as Liam did, were Alanna, Faithful, and Moonlight.

At their noon stop, Alanna found the stream and splashed her face with cold water. Buri came to her, bearing an armful of baby. “Here.” She gave him to Alanna, who froze—what if she dropped him? Sighing, Buri fixed the knight’s hands in a better holding position before she turned away.

“Where are you going?” Alanna demanded.

“You act like you’ve never held a baby before!”

“I haven’t.”

Buri stared at Alanna as if she couldn’t believe her ears. “Never? There are babies everywhere—”

“Perhaps so, but their parents didn’t ask me to hold them!” The infant wriggled, and Alanna tried to give him back to Buri.

“You have to learn sometime.” The K’mir turned away. “Stay there and don’t clutch him. I’m going for a blanket. You’ll be fine.”

“I don’t think child care is a necessary part of my education,” Alanna said to herself. “It’s not like I plan to stay anywhere long enough to marry and have children.”

The baby sneezed and wrinkled his face, which made her grin. Gently she bounced him as she had seen Coram do. To her dismay, the infant started to bawl. She cooed and rocked him to no avail—he worked himself into a tantrum. Buri returned with her blanket.

“What’s wrong?” Alanna cried. “I only joggled him a little—”

Buri opened the blanket on the ground and put clean diapers on it. “Probably wet,” she said. “Change him.” She left again.

Alanna looked at the child in horror. “I never—” She was saying that too much lately—surely a proven knight was equal to anything! Trying to remember how Thayet had done it earlier, she put the child down and unwrapped him. A stench rose from the diaper: The baby was more than wet. When Alanna fumbled the knot open, she saw a damp brown mass was responsible. This can’t be worse than mucking out stables, she told herself, fighting her unhappy stomach. I’ve done that hundreds of times.

Coram knelt beside her. “Take the diaper he fouled and wipe him with the edges,” he explained, his eyes twinkling. When she looked at him pleadingly, Coram shook his head. “It’s not hard. Lift him by his ankles—he’s used to it. That’s the idea—get rid of as much as ye can. Put the dirty one aside.” He dampened a clean diaper in the stream and gave it to her. “Swab the poor mite down. Think how ye’d feel in that state. Easy, little lad,” he crooned, giving the baby a finger to hold. The infant grinned, showing a bit of ivory. “Teeth, is it? Let me see.” He ran his finger around the baby’s gums. “And two more comin’ in—no wonder ye’re scratchy.”

Alanna stared at Coram as he gave her a fresh, dry diaper. “Where in the Mother’s Name did you learn all this?”

“Fold it like a triangle. I was the oldest, and four more after me. When I governed Trebond, I watched the little ones when their mothers were workin’ in the fields. I like them fine.” He shook the finger the baby clutched; the infant crowed and babbled happily. “A grip like iron: This one’ll be a blacksmith, mark my words. No, no—if ye put it on him so loose, it’ll fall off. And that’s a fair knot.” Coram held the baby in the air and shook him gently, to be answered with a gleeful cackle.

Alanna felt odd. Coram could’ve had a family years ago, if he hadn’t been working for Trebond.

Coram looked at her. “Don’t start sayin’ maybe ye should bring me home to Rispah. We’ve somethin’ to do before we head back.” He touched her shoulder. “I’ve been raisin’ ye. I’ve no complaints of my life.”

Buri showed Alanna how to feed the infant from a waterskin filled with goat’s milk. When that was done, Alanna picked up the child as she’d seen Liam do, patting him on the back. Now she had the knack of handling a baby!

She was shocked by the infant’s burp, unpleasantly surprised when dampness spread over her back. Seeing her face, Buri laughed until she cried. Liam gave Alanna a wet cloth, fighting to keep his face straight. “Put down a clean rag first,” he explained. “They spit up when they’re burped—and they fuss when they aren’t.” Alanna went to change, red with embarrassment.

When she returned, all the children slept on blankets in the shade. Even Buri dozed, one arm over the baby. Liam, Thayet, and Coram waited by the stream, out of earshot.

“They need rest,” Liam told her when she joined them. “They won’t make it to sundown, otherwise. We’re used to the road—they aren’t.”

“Thayet tells me they’ve no supplies,” said Coram. “Even the food we brought won’t last.”

“We tried to forage.” The princess cooled her feet in the stream. “The farms in these valleys were rich, and there was game—but not anymore. The land’s picked clean. We ran out of food last night, and Buri and the older girls have been stinting themselves for days. They can’t keep that up.”

I bet they aren’t the only ones who’ve gone short of food, Alanna thought, watching Thayet’s too-thin face. We have to do something, soon. But how, if we can’t live off the country?

“We have t’find humans, then.” Coram was matter-of-fact. “If the land’s picked over, let’s find the pickers and clean them out.”

Alanna gave Moonlight’s reins to Thayet for the afternoon. Sliding a quiver over her shoulder, she took her longbow and ranged up and down the road, watching for game. She bagged two squirrels, which told her more than Thayet’s words how bad off Sarain was. At this time of year game should have tumbled into her lap.

Buri came to join her, with no better luck. After an hour’s hunting, Alanna asked something that had been on her mind. “Why is Thayet roaming the mountains? Why isn’t she with her father?”

“It’s because of Kalasin,” Buri said after a moment’s consideration.

“Her mother?”

Buri nodded. “The most beautiful woman in the world. She was … amazing.” Her black eyes were sad. “Kalasin asked the Warlord to deal fairly with the K’mir, because we’re her people. Lowlanders take us for slaves; they steal our horses—” The dark girl stopped until her anger was under control. “Jin Wilima hates us—he’s a lowlander completely. So he signed laws forbidding us to meet in groups of more than five people at a time. There’s more than thirty in the Hau Ma clan, and they’re our smallest! How can we honor the dead or a marriage or a birth if the clan is forbidden to meet?”

“Go on,” urged the knight when Buri stopped.

“I’m sorry. What Kalasin did was a great thing, but it hurts to remember. She and Thayet tried to make the Warlord stop. They even pleaded—a K’mir never begs! But he signed the law.

“Kalasin knew what she had to do then. She sent Thayet to the convent, far away. My mother and my brother, who served Kalasin, kept the guards from breaking into her tower room. Kalasin stood at her window and sang her death chant, about her shame at jin Wilima’s laws. A crowd was there to witness: nobles, commonborn, and slaves. My mother and brother were killed, but they held the door until it was too late for the Warlord’s men to stop her from jumping. Mother and Pathom are buried at Kalasin’s right and left hands. The Warlord will lie in his tomb alone.”

“I’m sorry,” Alanna said quietly.

Buri shook her head. “They had the best deaths any K’mir could have. My people did what was right, and so did Kalasin.”

“But they’re gone,” Alanna pointed out, disturbed. “Being dead doesn’t help anybody.”

“That depends on the kind of death.” Liam had drawn even with them. “If your death’s wasted, that’s one thing. By her example, Kalasin woke up a lot of folk who thought it was all right to abuse the K’mir. Buri’s mother and her brother made it possible for Kalasin to tell why she killed herself.”

“Dead is dead,” Alanna snapped. “You can’t do anything from a grave, Liam!”

The Dragon and K’mir exchanged looks that clearly said Alanna didn’t know what she was talking about. Disturbed by their agreement, knowing she would rather change things while she was alive, Alanna moved ahead.

When Coram found signs that bandits had been in the area recently, Liam decreed it was time to stop for the night. Faithful found abandoned caves above a stream, where Thayet briskly set up camp. The children gathered firewood as Buri and Coram went fishing; Liam cooked. Once again Alanna got baby duty—diapering, feeding, and burping—this time with no mishaps.

Taking her bowl of thin stew outside, Alanna took a seat on a large rock. Homesickness had caught up with her that afternoon. She wanted to see familiar faces and scenes: She missed George, in spite of sharing a bedroll with Liam—or perhaps because of that. Since the night before, Liam had been careful and deadly serious, concentrating on keeping their company safe until they arrived in Rachia. She respected him but felt shut out all the same.

She missed George and his sense of humor. If he were here, she thought, he’d be in the middle of things, burping babies, hauling the boys off to wash, stealing Sarain blind for our supper. She blinked away unexpected tears. On the road she had no George to make her laugh, no Jon to say “Of course you can do it,” no Myles to explain the history of Sarain. She hoped the Dominion Jewel would be worth the trip.

Faithful, who’d vanished when they found the caves, patted her foot. His coat was thick with dust and burrs. Bandits, he panted, a large camp of them, east of here.

Thayet, who protested, stayed with the children. The two men, Alanna, and Buri formed the attack party, moving quietly through the woods led by Faithful. They marched for half an hour before they came to a canyon. Down there, Faithful told Alanna. Fifty of them and their women. The four crept to the canyon’s lip, where they could see the camp below. Alanna beckoned the others to draw back while they talked.

“Faithful says there’s about fifty people down there,” she whispered. “We can’t take on those odds.”

“I’m not a good enough thief to get in there and take what we need,” Liam told her. Buri and Coram nodded their agreement.

“I’ll have to use magic.” Alanna met Liam’s eyes. She couldn’t tell their color in the dark, but when she put her hand on his arm she found he was rigid with tension. “I’m sorry. I know you don’t like it. Can you think of something better?”

“Magic’s dishonorable,” Buri muttered. “It’s—cheating.”

Alanna and Coram exchanged looks. “Do ye prefer ten-to-one odds?” Coram asked. “I don’t. We’ve got some brave younglings and yer princess who depend on us t’come back.”

“I don’t like this,” protested the K’mir. “It’s too confusing. I suppose you have a point. I can’t exactly challenge all of them to single combat.”

“What do ye have in mind?” Coram asked his knight-mistress.

Thinking, Alanna said, “I don’t know. A net, maybe, to tie them down while you take what we need.” Coram frowned, troubled. He knew she’d never done anything so big and real. He said nothing, for which she was grateful.

“Do your magic, then.” Liam’s voice was hoarse. “If you feel like it when you’re done, maybe you can lend a hand with the real work.” He returned to the canyon’s edge.

“That isn’t fair,” Buri protested softly, but the Dragon was out of earshot. “What he said isn’t fair,” she told Coram and Alanna.

“That’s all right—I understand,” Alanna told her. “You two had better get close to the camp. Don’t worry about what I’m doing. It won’t affect you.” She watched them slip over the canyon’s edge.

You used to feel like Liam, Faithful commented as he and Alanna went to the edge of the canyon. Magic and fighting don’t mix, and a fighter who uses magic is cheating.

“I’m older now,” whispered Alanna.

She heard Liam’s feral battle cry, and the sounds of fighting. A sentry had seen the Dragon. Alanna had no more time to think. Reaching for the first image in her mind, Alanna saw the Dominion Jewel. Even a vision of it was a catalyst: Alanna’s Gift rushed into and through it, swirling out over the bandit camp as a shimmering violet net. She maneuvered it into place, making sure each tent and bedroll was covered. It was hard to concentrate as elation filled her. Did Thom feel this powerful when he performed one of his great magics? No wonder he’d given up a normal life to become a sorcerer!

The net solidified. Coram, Buri, and Liam were unable to see it; they could only sense it. Alanna extended her magic until she could see what was happening below. Buri and Liam looted the bandits’ supply tent to fill packs with food and goods. Coram met them, leading four horses. The others he’d turned loose, making it impossible for the bandits to follow them.

Now Alanna strained, trying to free herself from the spell while leaving it in place. She couldn’t even banish the Jewel’s image. It burned in her mind like a beacon, keeping her inner eyes riveted to it. Already she felt the peculiar sinking that meant she had gone too far.

Cut it loose! Faithful yowled in her ear. Cut it loose, or you’ll pour your life into it! She couldn’t hear him through the focus the Jewel-image demanded.

Pain broke Alanna’s concentration as Faithful wrapped himself around her arm, his claws and teeth ripping into her skin. Now she could free herself of the Jewel’s hold. Peeling the cat off, she lurched to her feet. The net itself would hold another half hour or so, time for them to get away. “Thanks,” she told Faithful in a gasp.

When the others came for her with one of the spare horses, they saw she was unable to ride. Coram looked at Liam, but the Dragon’s expression made it clear he would rather not be near Alanna just then. Coram pulled her up behind him onto the saddle.

Alanna took two days to recover, sleeping to restore her strength. By the time she was on her feet, Liam had gotten over his anger with her enough to give a dawn lesson. That same day the small company took to the road once again, the teenagers each riding a horse, with a smaller child behind. Coram had the third ten-year-old, and Thayet rode with the baby in his sling on her chest. Buri rode the shaggy pony Coram had taken from the bandits.

Using the less-traveled paths, they moved quickly through the desolate highlands. They passed burned-out farms and cabins—all abandoned, their owners dead or run away. Almost every building had its own ugly reminder of the war in the shape of unburied bodies or skeletons. They saw and heard no evidence of human life, although the warriors all sensed watching eyes. Whoever spied on them stayed within the shelter of the trees, too frightened or too wary to approach.

These sights gave Alanna nightmares, dreams in which the bodies were Tortallan and the burned-out homes belonged to her friends. Liam soon found a way to deal with dreams: He gave an extra lesson in hand-to-hand combat after they stopped for the night. Between the new lessons, the regular ones at daybreak, and her turn on watch, Alanna soon was far too tired to dream.

Rachia was a bustling trade city, her streets packed with things to see. Even the many soldiers present couldn’t put a damper on people’s spirits. The children wriggled in their saddles, trying to look at everything. Buri stuck to Thayet, scowling at anyone who came too near. Alanna found it difficult to breathe and was dismayed to think she was more used to desert and woodlands than to crowded cities. How would she feel when she returned to Corus?

They had crossed the marketplace when some instinct warned her—she looked up to see an archer on a nearby rooftop. Alanna yelled, “Thayet!”

Liam was afoot, leading his Drifter. Hearing Alanna, he dragged Thayet and the baby from their saddle as an arrow sliced past their heads. A second arrow followed; Liam grabbed it from the air.

Buri dismounted, dark with rage, and ran into the building where the archer stood. Dismounting, Alanna saw that the building supported a sturdy flower trellis reaching from ground to roof. She tested it and started to climb, trying not to think about rotten wood or loose anchorings. “Coram! Get them to the convent!” she yelled as twigs showered onto her face. She didn’t look, but she heard Liam and Coram bellow orders.

She vaulted over the roof’s edge, keeping low. The assassin—swathed in headcloth and scarf—shot at her, then leaped to the next building. Alanna dodged, unsheathed her sword, and pursued. Behind her she heard a rooftop door crash open, and another pair of running feet. Wary, she glanced back to find Buri catching up. The K’mir was a faster runner than Alanna. She drew even within seconds, with her dagger in her hand. “Don’t kill him!” Alanna panted. “We need to know who pays him!” Buri nodded.

They raced from roof to roof, Buri and Alanna closing the gap. The assassin’s breath came harder; his steps faltered. The next roof was a story lower than the ones they ran on—the assassin jumped and landed awkwardly. Rising, he stumbled on.

Buri jumped and fell, her left leg twisting under her, but she ran on, sweat pouring down her face. Alanna jumped and rolled, as Liam and her wrestling teachers had instructed her; she got to her feet without any hurt. Buri shook her head when Alanna hesitated. “Don’t wait for me,” she hissed. “Get him!”

Alanna raced on. Finally their quarry was forced to halt—he’d run out of roofs.

Alanna stopped, afraid to scare him. “Talk to me!” she called. “I just want to know why—”

He jumped. When Alanna came to the roof’s edge, he lay in an alley below, sprawled and broken. Cursing, she returned for Buri. Ignoring the stares of the building’s inhabitants, she and the hobbling K’mir went down to the street and into the alley. No one else had noticed the assassin’s fall, Alanna was relieved to note. She didn’t want a street urchin or his older counterpart stealing the dead man’s belongings before she and Buri got the chance to examine them.

Buri knelt beside the body, turning out his empty pockets. “He could be anybody.” She kept her voice low as she lifted the assassin’s headcloth. The face, sickeningly misshapen after the fall, was male and coarse, the cheeks filled with a drunkard’s broken veins. “Tavern scum,” she said flatly. “You can buy a killer like this for one gold piece. He probably drank his money already.” She covered the dead man once more. “Someone wants Thayet dead.”

Alanna nodded. “She has enemies.”

“Her father has enemies,” Buri snapped, standing shakily.

“Does it matter whose enemies they are? They want Thayet.”

You can discuss this at the convent, Faithful told them from the alley’s mouth. You’re needed there, too. Now.

When she and Buri entered the convent visitors’ court, Alanna smelled trouble. Their company should have been placed in a temple guest house immediately. That was the Daughters’ policy everywhere in the Eastern Lands. Yet their party was here, outside the convent proper, watched by a Daughter Doorwarden. No other priestesses—a temple this size housed at least two hundred—were to be seen. Thayet was puzzled; the children were nervous.

“What’s going on?” Alanna asked Liam quietly.

“I don’t know.” His eyes were blue-gray, revealing nothing. “Some Daughters came out, gabbled like geese, and vanished. The Doorwarden says we wait. I want Thayet out of sight.”

Buri scowled. “Is this the honor given a princess? I should teach these lowland hens some manners.”

“Save your anger for Thayet’s enemies,” Liam advised. “You’ll serve her best if you’re careful.”

“Hens,” Buri muttered rebelliously.

Like Buri and the Dragon, Alanna wanted Thayet in a safe place, not this open courtyard. She went to the Doorwarden. “Please bear a message to the First Daughter of this House.”

The Daughter nodded. Coldly the knight said, “I am Sir Alanna of Trebond and Olau, Knight of the Realm of Tortall, a shaman and rider of the Bloody Hawk Tribe of the Bazhir. Why are we kept outside the curtain wall? Why have we no explanation for this lack of courtesy? The children are tired and hungry, we are tired and dirty, and Princess Thayet is being shot at. The Daughters of the Mother of Waters owe a duty to travelers as servants of She Who Rules Us All. Why have you not performed that duty? I will be forced to report such a lapse to the Goddess-on-Earth in the City of the Gods.” Her violet eyes dangerous, Alanna nodded. “Please deliver my message.”

The Daughter bowed and hurried away.

In minutes they were shown to a guest house well inside the thick convent wall. Servants came to look after the young members of their group as the Doorwarden took the adults and Buri to a meeting with the leader of the Mother of Waters. Passing through a long courtyard, they entered a room where two Daughters sat at a long table. One was dressed in the black habit of the Hag, the Goddess as Queen-of-the-Underworld; the other wore the cloth-of-gold habit that marked her as First Daughter of a wealthy convent.

“I am First Daughter jian Cadao,” she said when everyone was made comfortable. She avoided looking at Thayet. “Princess—Lady Thayet, we were … unprepared for your arrival. We want to extend every courtesy …” She stopped, looking flustered.

“There are problems.” The woman in black was young, but she spoke with authority. “More than we could have foreseen.” Buri stirred, thinking the Daughter was being rude to Thayet. The Hag-Daughter nodded to her. “Forgive my bluntness—I never learned to soften my words. Princess, your father—the Warlord—is dead. May the Black God ease his passing.”

Thayet’s ivory skin went dead white. “How? And … when?” she rasped.

“Illness,” the Hag-Daughter replied. “Sudden and painful. We suspect poison, of course. But no one is anxious to prove it.” After hesitating, she added quietly, “Forgive me if I am too abrupt. I was told you and your royal father were not on speaking terms.”

“We weren’t, not after my—mother,” Thayet whispered. She tried to smile. “Still, he was all I had. Go on, please.”

“Try to understand our position. His end places a different meaning on your presence in our Houses.” Her eyes, unlike those of the First Daughter’s, had been fixed on Thayet. Now she examined Liam; the Dragon shifted in his seat. “The rebel leader, zhir Anduo, is frank about his need to talk to you.”

“Kill her, ye mean,” Coram rumbled.

The Daughter’s eyes went to him. “Not under our roof,” she said coldly. “No priestess of ours will betray the princess. Our House is a holy sanctuary; we will not be profaned.” She glanced at the First Daughter, who looked away. “You say assassins already have made an attempt. We are not proof against them or against traitors. Zhir Anduo is not the only one to find the Warlord’s child interesting.” She met Thayet’s eyes again.

“I understand,” Thayet replied softly.

“The children are welcome,” added the First Daughter. “Except … except for your personal guard …”

“Buriram,” Thayet whispered.

Jian Cadao avoided Buri’s glare and continued, “She is K’mir and closely linked to you. We cannot promise her safety. The children who were students at the Mother of Mountains we shall return to their families. We understand the infant is an orphan. He will be reared by us. But we dare not shelter you. I can give clothing, horses, whatever you need. You must go soon, before zhir Anduo knows you are here.” Now she looked at the princess. “I am truly sorry, Thayet. I have no choice. Already I have disobeyed orders to report your arrival. It won’t be long before a spy sends word to the rebels.”

Dismissed by the priestesses, they went back to the room Thayet was assigned. None of them were surprised to find packed saddlebags at the door. “They don’t waste time, do they?” Buri sneered when she saw them.

Alanna combed mud and stickers out of Faithful’s coat, a process the cat loved (and made difficult by wriggling in joy). “I liked the Hag-Daughter,” she confessed, working on a clump. “She was honest.”

“The First Daughter left a bad taste in my mouth,” Coram remarked.

“Don’t be hard on jian Cadao,” Thayet said quietly. “She’s a cousin on my father’s side. It wasn’t easy for her.”

“Your own family throws you to the wolves?” Liam’s eyes turned an intense green—he was furious.

“We prefer ambition to loyalty,” Thayet replied. She fingered the arch of her nose. “And she’s in trouble herself. It’ll be easier for all my family if I’m gone. With my father dead …” She looked away from them, swallowing. “Any power I had was through him. Now I’m a pawn. Zhir Anduo can strengthen his claim to the throne by marrying me. The ones who don’t want him will use me to oppose him, because I’m jian Wilima—although a jian Wilima female.” She started to pace, her hazel eyes stormy. “Where can Buri and I go? Please—I need advice.”

“They can come along,” Coram whispered to Alanna. “They’re no hindrance—we saw that comin’ here. The Roof can’t be worse than what they face now.”

Alanna looked Thayet over, fingering the ember-stone. Thayet was dependable. She was a good archer, a necessity when they hunted to feed themselves. If she was nervous, Alanna had yet to see it. She never complained, never cried, never fainted. She never shirked her watch. Thayet and Buri would be an asset to an expedition like theirs.

Alanna looked at Buri and was surprised by a pleading expression in the girl’s eyes. She replaced it with her usual scowl, but this time Alanna wasn’t fooled. Buri must be worried sick, she thought. And she knows Thayet will be safe with us. Besides, I’d miss them.

“Thayet,” she said aloud, “you know where we’re going. We’re on—a quest, I suppose. When I find what I’m after, I’ll return home. If Liam and Buri don’t object, why don’t you ride with us?”

“Mind? Gods, no! Thayet’s a better cook than you are,” said Liam.

“The Roof of the World,” Thayet whispered. Her face brightened.

“Leave Sarain?” Buri grinned. “Just show me the way!”

A Daughter shook her awake. Glancing at the window, Alanna saw it was just before dawn—time for Liam’s teaching. She directed a questioning look at the Dragon, but he only shrugged and tossed Alanna her clothes. They dressed and followed the priestess out into the corridor.

The black-robed Daughter awaited them with Buri, Thayet, and Coram. “No time to waste,” she told them quietly. “Zhir Rayong, who is sworn to zhir Anduo, knows Thayet’s here, and he’s on his way. My people can delay him for three hours, but you must go if you want to escape.”

Alanna looked at her friends, thinking fast. “We can’t go as we are. When it gets out that we’re gone, everyone will look for a group of nobles, or the Dragon and his friends. I can ride as a boy.” She grinned, looking at the shirt and breeches she already wore. “Goddess knows I’ve had practice.”

“We’ll pass as mercenaries,” Liam added. Coram nodded. They all gazed at Thayet, whose looks could not have been more distinctive if she had tried.

“I can disguise her Highness,” the Hag-Daughter said. “My women will make your packs seem less well cared for. What of the horses?”

They conferred by glance, and Alanna shook her head. “We don’t have time to dye their coats. If it’s necessary, I’ll put an illusion on them and my cat till danger’s past.” She looked apologetically toward Liam, who shrugged.

“Let’s start,” the Dragon said. “The sooner we’re gone, the safer everyone will be.”

Thayet and the Daughter disappeared while the others changed into their most disreputable clothes. Novices saddled the horses, rubbing dirt into their coats, manes, and tack, then covering the saddlebags in patched canvas. Alanna’s lance and shield were put on Liam’s Drifter, since commoner youths did not carry them.

When Alanna herself entered the courtyard, she barely recognized her own Moonlight in the duncolored mare that awaited her. Using rawhide strips, the knight wrapped Lightning’s gem-studded hilt until only the battered crystal on the pommel showed. Buri, dressed as Alanna was in a boy’s shirt, breeches, and jacket, arrived next. She glared at Bother, who laid back his ears at the sight of her, and went to make friends with the pony she’d named Sure-Foot.

Thayet was transformed into a sallow-skinned female. Her hair was dull, touched with gray, and a purple birthmark spread over her nose and down her left cheek. She was swathed in a shapeless brown dress. The whole effect was so painfully ugly that no one would look at her for long.

“We provisioned you,” one of the novices said, looking at Thayet with tears in her eyes. The packhorse, and your bags. Princess, the Goddess smile on you, wherever you go!”

Alanna gripped the Hag-Daughter’s arm. “If you come west—”

She smiled. “Farewell, Lioness.”

They galloped out of the convent gates, riding hard. Distance, rather than conserving themselves and the horses, was the important thing for this part of their journey. For once Faithful kept silent about the joggling, hooking his claws into his cup and holding on. Their route from the convent led past the city wall rather than into the city. The road was deserted by Rachia’s early morning visitors, so no one would witness their flight. Either the gods smiled or the Hag-Daughter had weather-workers at her command: Fog enveloped them, muffling the noise they made and sheltering them from sight.

The ride to the border took three days, with Liam setting a pace all of them could handle. Alanna relinquished command of their expedition to him: Not only was he familiar with eastern Sarain and the Roof of the World, but he wanted to lead.

The countryside was deserted. The normal inhabitants—trappers, mountain men, K’miri tribesmen, a few Doi tribesmen from the Roof—were not sociable at the best of times, and now they had fled the occasional patrols of southern armies. Alanna paid little attention to the deserted land. She worried about Thayet. She worried about herself. These days her old goals appeared silly—a child’s dream, not an adult’s. But what was she going to do with her life—after she found the Jewel—if she found it? What did acclaim matter if you had nowhere to go, nothing to do?

Three days after setting out from Rachia, they came to the M’kon River that formed the Saren border. On its eastern bank was Fortess Wei, a Saren outpost—there was no single government east of the river. Beyond Wei the ground formed hills and small valleys. Above those hills loomed a huge, purple band that hung too steadily to be clouds. Alanna squinted at it, curious.

Thayet brought her mare up beside Moonlight, observing the direction of Alanna’s stare. “The Roof of the World,” she said quietly.