Alanna

by Tamora Pierce

Alanna blushed. “Of course.”

  The woman smiled. “You know the man’s side of it, I see. Well, a woman enjoys it too, and one time is enough for you to get with child.” She looked at Alanna carefully. “I’ll give you a charm against your getting pregnant, then. If you change your mind, you can throw it away.”

  “Pigs might fly,” the girl muttered.

  The look in Mistress Cooper’s eyes was skeptical. “We’ll see. Now—George will have a few questions. Shall I bring him in? It’s best he knows all.” Alanna nodded. The woman opened the kitchen door, calling, “Stop listening at keyholes, my son.”

  George walked in and lounged against the kitchen table, looking anxiously at Alanna. “All’s well then?”

  “She’ll be fine,’ his mother replied. “Tea?”

  “Is it that calming tea of yours? Gods know I need it. So, youngling—the truth, now.”

  Alanna told them everything. “I can’t stop now,” she finished. “I didn’t ask to be born a girl. It’s not fair.”

  George waved an impatient hand. “Hush your nonsense,” he ordered. “Bein’ a girl hasn’t slowed you down yet. And surely you don’t plan to stay a pretty young man all your life?”

  “No, of course not. I’ll tell them the truth when I’m eighteen and I have my shield.” She sighed. “If they hate me—well—I’ll have proved I can be a knight, won’t I? I’ll go into the world and have adventures. They needn’t ever see me again.”

  George raised his eyebrows. “I haven’t heard such foolishness in all my life. Are you tellin’ us Jon will hate you? Gary? Raoul? Or your friend, Sir Myles? My ears are deceivin’ me!”

  “But I’m a girl,” she cried. “I’m lying to them. I’m doing men’s things—”

  “And you do them better than most young men,” George replied firmly. “Hush yourself. Think of them hatin’ you if it comes to be. And don’t worry. Your secret is safe with us.” He hugged her around the shoulders.

  Alanna rested her head against his chest, her eyes filling with tears of gratitude. She blinked them away and whispered, “Thank you, George.”

  “I’m callin’ you Alanna, when we’re alone,” he said. “I think you should be reminded of who you are.”

  Alanna remembered her monthly cycle and said bitterly, “Fat chance I have of forgetting.”

  Mistress Cooper chuckled, guessing what had prompted Alanna’s remark.

  Alanna shrugged. “I suppose you insist—”

  “I do,” was the calm reply.

  “Just don’t let it slip. I’ve come too far now.”

  “He doesn’t forget details,” Mistress Cooper said dryly. “He must get it from his father, for he never had it from me.” She went into the room where she had first talked to Alanna.

  George chucked Alanna under the chin. “I’ll enjoy watchin’ you grow up, lass. Count on me to help.”

  Alanna gripped his hand, meeting his eyes. “I never thought for a second that I couldn’t.”

  “You’re probably the only person in the city besides me who can say that,” George’s mother commented, returning. “He’s a good boy, even if he is crooked. Here. Slip this on.”

  Alanna looked puzzledly at the gold symbol dangling from a thin cord. She had never seen such a letter before, and she could feel it radiating power. Quickly she slipped the cord over her head, tucking it under her shirt. The feeling of strange magic vanished.

  “Let George’s people bring me to you from now on,” Mistress Cooper instructed. “I doubt you’ll need me much, though. Give me your hand.”

  Alanna obeyed. The woman just touched her fingers, then pulled away as if she had been burned.

  “Now what?” Alanna wanted to know.

  “Poor lass.” There was pity in the woman’s face. “The Goddess has Her hand on you. You’ve been given a hard path to walk.” She tried to smile. “Luck to you, Alanna of Trebond. You’ll need it.”

  Alanna was just slipping into her rooms when Coram found her.

  “Two guesses as to who’s wantin’ to see ye.”

  Alanna made a face. “I couldn’t help it. The problem was urgent.”

  “Yer problem now is urgent, too,” was the reply. “The Duke’s fit to be tied.”

  For visiting the city without permission, Duke Gareth restricted Alanna to the palace for two months. She also had to report to him during her time after the evening meal and run his errands. She took it without complaint, since she had no choice. She certainly couldn’t tell a displeased Gareth why she had ridden off for the city.

  Her thirteenth birthday passed, and it was August before she was free to leave the palace again. Even after she was taken off restriction Alanna remained on her best behavior. The Duke of Naxen had never been satisfied with her vague excuses for her morning ride to the city, and he watched her, so she watched herself.

  Duke Gareth was not the only one keeping an eye on her. Sir Myles still observed her at odd moments. Her friendship with the knight had deepened steadily, until she was spending some nights playing chess with her older friend rather than joining the Prince and his circle. For one thing, Myles told fascinating stories. Myles could also explain why people behaved as they did. Although fighting was becoming second nature to her, Alanna didn’t understand people. Myles did, and she turned to him for instruction.

  They were playing chess one fall evening when Myles asked, “Have you ever seen my estates? They lie just off the Great Road North, between here and Trebond.”

  Alanna frowned at the board. “I’ve never been anywhere except Trebond and Port Caynn.”

  Myles raised his eyebrows. “You should see more of Tortall. Did you know I have ruins up at Barony Olau dating back to the Old Ones?”

  Alanna was fired with curiosity. She knew a little about the Old Ones. They had sailed across the ocean to build a civilization north of the Inland Sea. Bits and pieces were all that was left: parchments that lasted centuries, mosaics showing white cities with high towers—and ruins. The royal palace was built on the remains of one of their cities. Alanna had always wanted to know more about these people who had come before hers.

  “Are they good, your ruins?” she asked eagerly. “Have you ever found anything there?”

  Myles’s eyes danced with amusement. “They’re large, and I’ve found a number of things there. Would you like to ride up with me and have a look? You’re in check, by the way.”

  “I’d love to go. D’you think it’s true, that the gods were afraid the Old Ones would challenge them, so they rained fire on the Eastern Lands? There.” She moved her king out of danger. She glanced at Myles in time to see an odd, thoughtful look on his face.

  “I never knew you were so interested in the Old Ones—or the gods.”

  Alanna shrugged. “It’s not something I talk about much. Duke Roger doesn’t like to answer questions about the Old Ones or the gods. Well, he says we aren’t old enough to understand. And the others aren’t very interested.”

  “I don’t think that’s wise,” Myles commented. “Our gods are much too busy in our lives for us to ignore them.” He moved a piece. “Check, and mate.”

  Alanna was dressing for bed when Timon came for her. She changed back into her clothes rapidly and followed the servingman.

  “What have ye done now?” Coram called after her. “Why does the Duke want to see ye this time?”

  “How should I know?” Alanna said, turning to scowl at the soldier. “Maybe he likes my company.”

  Instead of taking her to Duke Gareth’s office, near the King’s council chambers, Timon took Alanna to the Duke of Naxen’s private study, in his personal suite. Alanna was shocked to find Duke Gareth wearing a bright brocade dressing gown.

  The tall man looked at her and sighed. “I suppose you know Sir Myles wants you to ride with him to Barony Olau tomorrow?”

  Alanna gulped. “He mentioned my visiting him, but I didn’t know it’d be today or tomorrow, saving your Grace’s presence, sir.” She twined her hands ne
rvously behind her back.

  The Duke smiled thinly. “I’m not angry, if that’s what’s making you babble. I’m simply puzzled. I wasn’t aware the two of you were so close.”

  Alanna shifted her weight on her feet. “We play chess, sometimes,” she admitted. “And I wait on him at dinner—you gave me that duty, sir.”

  “So I did.”

  “And he knows things I don’t understand. I can talk to him, sir.” Alanna blushed. “I didn’t mean to imply—”

  The man actually grinned. “Don’t put your foot in it any more than you have, lad. I’m not here to be your nanny. And I’m not displeased that you and Myles are friends. It’s good for you to have an older man to talk to. If your own father had any—” He stopped short. Alanna was surprised to see him blush faintly. “That was uncalled for. Forgive me, Alan.”

  “I know of nothing to forgive you for, sir,” she said honestly.

  “All right, then. You’d better get some sleep. Myles plans an early start. I’ll have Coram wake you. You’ll be gone for a week. I expect you to keep up with your studies, or I’ll think twice about any other outings of this sort.”

  “Thank you, your Grace.” Alanna bowed deeply and hurried from the ducal presence. She ran back to her rooms, to find Coram waiting up for her. She told him her news, hardly able to stand still from the excitement. “And the Duke wears a red-gold brocade dressing gown. Can you imagine?” she asked as she disappeared behind her dressing screen.

  Coram chuckled. “It’s things like that that remind me who ye are. Sometimes even I forget ye’re not a lad.”

  Alanna, in her nightshirt, popped into bed as Coram doused the candles.

  “Coram?” she said when he had settled under his own blankets.

  “Aye?”

  “D’you think anyone else has—guessed—that I’m not a boy?”

  The man yawned. “Unlikely. Ye’ve taken too much care with yer disguise. Now, go to sleep. Or at least let me get some. The dawn watch’ll be the death of me.”

  Alanna was up, dressed and packed when Coram came for her the next morning. He handed her a roll and a glass of milk. “Drink and eat,” he ordered her sternly. “Did ye get any sleep last night?”

  She grinned sheepishly. “I don’t think so.”

  “Well, behave yerself and don’t gulp that milk. He won’t leave without ye.”

  Coram was right. Myles was awaiting her in the courtyard, dressed for riding. The very thought of Myles riding made Alanna stare. Somehow she had never envisioned the older man on a horse. Then she scolded herself mentally. Myles had had to pass all the tests she did. How could he have been knighted otherwise?

  She enjoyed the day-long ride to Barony Olau. Myles had plenty of stories to tell, and it was nice to forget palace discipline. The sun was beginning to sink in the west when they turned off the Great Road. Unlike Trebond, Barony Olau was no fortress built to fight off mountain bandits and raiders from Scanra. Myles’s home was set in a long valley and surrounded by acres covered with brown stubble. Toward the hills Alanna could see rows of trees.

  “My people are farmers,” Myles explained, seeing the direction of her gaze. “Barony apples are the finest in Tortall—if I do say so myself.”

  “It’s a lot different from Trebond,” Alanna replied. She stroked Moonlight’s neck—for Moonlight’s comfort or her own, she wasn’t sure.

  The rooms Myles gave her were small and comfortable. The floors were covered with bright rugs. A fire burned in the hearth, and the windows didn’t let any drafts chill the air. Alanna thought of her own home again and sighed.

  The servants were polite and well spoken. When she explained her love of privacy to the man Myles sent to wait on her, he bowed and replied, “As the young master wishes.” She did not know the man went immediately to Myles and relayed her wishes, or that Myles sat up very late thinking.

  Over breakfast the next day Myles asked, “Are you up to the ruins? We’ll have to go on foot—the ground’s too uneven for horses.”

  She was more than eager to get started. After gulping her breakfast, Alanna rushed to change clothes. She donned thick stockings, heavy breeches, a warm shirt and a sturdy coat before pulling on her most comfortable boots. As an afterthought, she thrust a pair of gloves into her coat pocket. Alanna did not like the cold, and the days were turning crisp.

  When she joined Myles, she found he was dressed like she was. “No, Ranulf,” he was telling his major domo. “No servants.” He chuckled. “I think you’d have trouble getting anyone to go with us.”

  Ranulf nodded. “You’re right enough there, my lord. You’ll return before dark? I’ll have even more trouble getting a search party out for you once the sun’s down.”

  “Well before dark,” the knight promised. “We’re off then.”

  Alanna waited until they were away from the castle before asking. “Why don’t your servants like the ruins?”

  “My people claim they’re haunted,” he said. “But I doubt it. I’ve explored them for years without seeing a single ghost.”

  “Why explore them so much?”

  “I’m writing a paper about the place,” was the reply. “I want to show how the house was laid out, who lived there, how they lived. I’m almost finished.” He tugged his beard. “I doubt many will read it, but the work gives me satisfaction.”

  Alanna shook her head. She was no scholar. “Why bring me here?” she asked, to change the subject.

  “Because I was compelled,” Myles answered.

  She stopped dead. “You were what?”

  “I was compelled,” he said patiently. “For seven nights in a row I had the same dream. You and I were exploring the ruins, dressed exactly as we are now. When I asked Gareth to let you accompany me, the dreams stopped.”

  “Oh.”

  “Oh, indeed.” They started forward again. “I’m an everyday man. I like my books and my brandy and my friends. I like everything in its place, and I like to know today where I’ll be tomorrow. When the gods brush my life—they brush everyone’s life at some point—I get nervous. There’s no accounting for what the gods want.”

  The woods opened up, and Alanna halted. The ruins lay before them. In some places the walls were taller than she was. They were built with marble, and the stone gleamed as if it had been carved the day before. A gate made of heavy black wood dangled half off its bronze hinges.

  “Shall we go in?” Myles asked. He led the way through the gates. Alanna stopped just inside, scratching her itching nose and looking around. The remains of the stone walls stretched before them in neat rows, forming buildings and rooms inside the buildings.

  Myles pointed, his finger describing a large area walled by stones. “I think this was the main house. See the door?” The knight tapped a slab of black wood leaning against a wall. “It’s six centuries old, at least.” He moved ahead confidently. “I believe this was the kitchen,” he went on as Alanna followed. “When I was younger, I found cooking implements here. I’ll show them to you when we get back.”

  “What are they made of?” she asked.

  Myles rubbed his nose. “It looks like bronze or copper, but it polishes to a higher shine than new metal. I think it’s the coating they were dipped in. The Old Ones treated everything with it—metal, wood, paper. Anything that might show age. They were terrified of aging.”

  Alanna stared at him. “Sir?”

  “No, lad, I didn’t pull that out of thin air.” Myles grinned. “I can read their writing. From what I have read, they feared aging more than anything.”

  Alanna began to explore, keeping a sharp eye on the ground. A glint at the edge of a marble block caught her attention. It was a spearhead. She rubbed it until it shone. Looking around, she saw brackets carved in the stone blocks lying nearby. Those brackets would easily fit spears, swords, axes—

  “Myles!” she called. “I think I found the armory!”

  The man came over. “I agree. And you made another find.” He examined th
e spearhead. “I’m interested in cooking gear, not weapons. You’ll probably find more of these. You’re a sharp fellow, Alan.”

  In the corner of the armory Alanna discovered a great piece of stone lying on the ground. Unlike the blocks that formed the walls, this slab was jet black. A metal handle was set in one side. Alanna rubbed it with her shirtsleeve.

  “What makes you say that?” she asked, squinting at the edges of the slab.

  “How many thirteen-year-old boys could come to a place like this and figure out where the armory was?”

  She tugged at the handle. The stone didn’t move. “Myles, you seem to think I’m special. I’m not, really.” She tugged again, with both hands this time.

  “It won’t move,” he said. “Mithros knows I tried often enough. I think it’s just the armory door.”

  Alanna braced her feet firmly and gripped the handle. “Maybe if you’d give me a hand—” she muttered, tugging with all her strength. Myles was coming to help her when there was a groan of mechanisms long unused. Alanna jumped out of the way as the great slab slid toward her. It uncovered a stairway, leading down into darkness.

  Alanna turned, sweaty and triumphant, to find Myles looking at her oddly. “Drat it, Myles, I just put my back into it!” she cried. “Any other boy could’ve done it!”

  “I was sixteen when I last tried to move that thing,” Myles told her slowly. “I had a friend with me, one of the local lads who was my servant. He’s the blacksmith now, and he was no weakling then. We couldn’t budge it.”

  “Well—maybe there was dirt in the gears, and a rain washed it away or something,” she said crossly. She started down the steps. “Aren’t you coming?”

  “Don’t be foolish, Alan,” Myles cautioned. “We don’t have a torch. That tunnel could lead anywhere. You won’t get far without light.”

  She grinned up at him. “Ah, but you forget. I do have light.” She held up a hand, concentrating on her palm. Sweat formed on her upper lip as she felt the magic uncurl inside her. Something else uncurled in the tunnel, but she ignored it for the heat building on her palm. When she opened her eyes, her hand was glowing with a bright violet shine. “Come on,” she called, trotting off down the passage.