Lioness Rampant (23 page)

He looked at the thief. “Ralon of Malven. The present Rogue is worth twenty of you. Your choice of tools is bad, Delia. He'll betray you when he's done with the thieves.”

Turning to Alex, the fury in Roger's sapphire eyes faded to puzzlement. “I am surprised at
you
, my former squire.”

“I told them to do nothing,” Alex shrugged. “I said you'd have different plans. They thought matters could be … hastened. Frankly, I didn't think it was important enough to bother you for.”

Roger smiled grimly. “You might have been right. The trouble with ambitious plots is that those who are not involved get wind of them—as they did this time. That person, or those persons, took what they heard to Jonathan, and he took their information to my Lord Provost. But you—I know you are not a plotter, and I know you are not ambitious. What do
you
want from this?”

Alex met his eyes for a long moment; then, smiling slightly, he bowed. He knew Roger would guess what he desired of any plan to take Jonathan from the throne.

Roger tugged his beard. “We shall see. Perhaps … You haven't changed. As for you others,” he said, looking
at them, “no more plots. No more assassins. Steal nothing for me, bribe no servants for me. My plans are my own, and you will await
my
instructions. I warn you this once.”

He raised a hand. Slowly blood-colored fire—the fire of magic—collected in his palm. With a savage gesture he hurled it at a small table, which exploded into chips of burning wood and molten pieces of brass and porcelain.

In the silence that followed, Roger whispered, “Don't think to disobey me.” Turning, he walked out.

Delia was ashen. “But his Gift was bright orange …”

Alex picked up a cooling bit of glass in his handkerchief. He looked it over and began to smile.

6

HOMECOMING

T
HE TRAVELERS SET OUT FROM
P
ORT
C
AYNN
immediately after landing, eager to reach their destination. Riding slowly, to reaccustom themselves after several weeks out of the saddle, they would be in Corus before nightfall. They halted shortly after midday at an inn Alanna and Raoul remembered, where the squires had often stopped on trips to Caynn. The food was good, the place so quiet that a rest seemed in order. Buri and Thayet napped; the men played chess. Alanna took Faithful to sit under a courtyard tree, scratching his ears and enjoying
the sun. She was half drowsing when she heard an approaching rider.

Someone in a hurry,
the sleepy Faithful remarked. Alanna nodded, refusing to open her eyes. The buzz of summer crickets was soothing after days of waves and gulls.
Never
would she board a water vessel again!

Curious, she peeped through her lashes; the rider entered the yard. With a yell she leaped up, dumping Faithful to the ground. “George!”

The thief grinned and grabbed her. His brawny arms closed tight; she was lifted, spun, then well kissed. Alanna looked up into dancing hazel eyes. “How did you know we were here?” she asked, wiping teary eyes on his sleeve.

“Stop that, lass,” he whispered. “Messenger birds, remember? You're thin. Haven't you been eatin', my hero?”

“I was seasick.” She grinned. “It was the only way to get home in time. Are
you
all right? You look worn.”

George kissed her again, taking his time to convince her of his health. He released her, a wicked twinkle in his eyes. “Now your Dragon can kill me—I'll die happy.”

“You know about Liam?”

He chuckled. “Sweet, everyone knows the Lioness and the Dragon were prowlin' Sarain. I heard two songs about you this week.”

“Have you counted her fingers yet, Cooper?” Liam walked toward them, his eyes pale crystal.

George smiled. “I never thought you wouldn't take care of her, Dragon.” He held out a hand, keeping a grip on Alanna. “I assume you're used to bein' sung about.”

Liam's eyes darkened to blue-gray; he shook the offered hand with a smile. “They'll have more to sing about, I guarantee.”

George stared past Liam, eyes wide. “Bless me, Crooked God,” he whispered.

Thayet and Buri emerged from the inn, still yawning. Alanna knew what had caught George's attention: The afternoon sun sank into Thayet's midnight hair while it turned her skin a deep cream.
Thayet would look good anywhere,
Alanna thought, with only a touch of envy. “Princess Thayet
jian
Wilima, may I present George Cooper? George, this is Princess Thayet of Sarain, and her guard Buriram Tourakom.”

“Don't bother,” muttered Buri. George released Alanna to bow and kiss Thayet's hand. “He won't remember anyway.”

George straightened and winked at the K'mir. “I'm awed, Buriram Tourakom, but I'm rarely
that
awed.”

Charmed in spite of herself, Buri smiled. “Alanna told us about you,” she said gruffly. “We've been warned. It's Buri, anyway.”

“I told you I'd bring them back,” Raoul said.

George looked at Alanna and gave her a squeeze. “I'll never doubt you again, lad.”

“Ye
would
be the first,” Coram announced. He and Raoul had brought the horses around.

George laughed. “Were I you, I'd treat my wife-to-be's cousin and king better than that.” The two men gripped each other's arms in greeting.

George exchanged his tired horse for a fresh one, joining them for the ride to Corus. His presence made the journey pass quickly. He refused to relay the news, but had no trouble wheedling tales of their adventures from Buri and Thayet. Alanna was not fooled. The past months had taken a toll on George: He was thinner, small lines fanned out from his eyes and framed his broad mouth. She wondered precisely what had been going on. Where was his court—Scholar, Solom, Marek, Rispah, and the others? If she asked now, she knew he would laugh and ask the questions
she
didn't want to answer.

“Has he
always
been this obstinate?” she asked Faithful.

The cat sniffed.
You're a fine one to talk.

She grinned. “If
I
don't know obstinacy when I see it, who does?”

At the crest of the hills between seaport and capital, Buri drew up her pony. “Mountain gods,” she whispered, her black eyes huge with awe. The others stopped beside her.

Corus lay on the southern bank of the Oloron River, towers glinting in the sun. The homes of wealthy men lined the river to the north; tanners, smiths, wainwrights, carpenters, and the poor clustered on the bank to the south. The city was a richly colored tapestry: the Great Gate on Kingsbridge, the maze of the Lower City, the marketplace, the tall houses in the Merchants' and the Gentry's quarters, the gardens of the Temple district, the palace. This last was the city's crown and southern border. Beyond it, the royal forest stretched for leagues. It was not as lovely as Berat nor as colorful as Udayapur, but it was Alanna's place.

“Glad to be home?” George asked.

“Yes.”

He reached to wipe a tear from her cheek. “It's been that long a journey, has it?” he whispered.

Alanna met his eyes. In their hazel depths she saw a degree of love that frightened her as it warmed her.

Inside the City Gate waited a small company of Bazhir, Hakim Fahrar at its head. They bowed to Alanna from their saddles. She bowed in reply. Hakim fell in with Coram; the others formed a loose circle around the travelers.

“Is this necessary?” Alanna asked. “We
wanted
to be inconspicuous.” She and Thayet exchanged rueful glances.

“It is,” George said. “You wouldn't've been able to do it, anyway—not with yon big, brawny lad amongst you.” He nodded toward Liam, who talked with a Bazhir rider. “Things've changed somewhat, and all Corus knows you're Jonathan's knight. You'd do worse than ride with a guard.”

The gate at House Olau was open. The hostlers greeted Alanna cheerfully, showing no surprise at the size of her party. It was Thayet who hesitated, a worried frown on her face. “Buri and I should find an inn somewhere,” she pointed out. “If you can direct us—”

“I know one,” Liam said. “We can stay together—”

“Don't be ridiculous,” Alanna interrupted. “Why should we split up?”

“He's expectin' you,” George told them.

“Oh?” commented Thayet. “Where'd he learn about Buri and Liam and me?”

“The Voice?” Alanna asked Coram.

The burly man chuckled. “Ye have to admit, Lioness, the Voice is a useful man.” Turning to the others, he explained, “I've been in contact with the Voice of the Tribes since we entered Marenite waters. We're expected, all of us.”

“You'll hurt Myles's feelin's if you go elsewhere,” George said. “He's that hospitable. He puts up my mother and cousin also. The man shouldn't be a bachelor, not with a fine, big house like this.”

Thayet smiled ruefully. “If you're certain …”

George bowed. “I can't lie to a pretty lady.”

Alanna dismounted, giving her reins to a hostler. Faithful leaped down to vanish into the shadows as Eleni Cooper and Rispah came out to the courtyard. Alanna rushed to hug them, trying not to cry anymore. How could she have forgotten what being home was like? She introduced Thayet, Buri, and Liam. She didn't know what George's mother and cousin were doing in Myles's home, but she was glad to see them.

Glancing to her left, in the shadows she saw Coram
taking Rispah in his arms. Smiling, she looked away.

George nudged Alanna, pointing to the wide-open front door. “Go say hello to him. He's been up since dawn.”

Alanna ran to Myles and hugged him. Neither of them required words, which was just as well, since both were unable to speak. Myles wept unashamedly, soaking his beard as he beamed at her with delight. He too looked older and worn, with bits of gray in his hair.
He doesn't think Roger isn't dangerous,
Alanna realized. She had to find out what was going on.

“Come in, come in,” Myles told the others. “Welcome, all of you!”

After dinner they gathered in the library. The others talked, but for the most part Alanna listened, happy to be there. Grim subjects and the Jewel were left for the next day. Thayet, Buri, and Liam were never given a chance to feel left out; once they were introduced to Myles, the knight made them welcome. Thayet's offer to find somewhere else to stay was brushed off by their host, as Alanna had known it would be. Coram stayed close to Rispah, and Alanna realized with a twinge of sadness that his days as her mentor-companion were done. It surprised and delighted her to see Myles take Eleni's
hand; George saw her looking and winked. Later she accused him of matchmaking, and he made no attempt to deny it.

Finally Alanna dozed off in her chair, waking slightly as Liam carried her to bed. Kissing her forehead, he whispered, “Sleep well, Lioness.”

“I don't
like
being ‘Lioness' to you.” He didn't seem to hear. Gently Liam closed the door, and she slept again.

She woke instantly some time later. What had roused her? She listened, but the house was silent. Looking around, she saw a blot of brownish light by the window. Lightning hung nearby; she lunged and unsheathed it as the blot gained size and substance.

“Put that thing down,” a familiar voice snapped. “I haven't hurt you.”

“Thom?”

Even before he finished materializing, he glowed enough for her to see his features. Crossing his arms on his chest, he lifted an eyebrow. “Don't you have any nightshirts?” Liam had removed only her boots and stockings.

Alanna jumped up and grabbed her twin, holding him tightly. Thom's embrace was as hard as her own. He buried his too-hot face in her shoulder.

“Thom, what's wrong? D'you have a fever?” Her voice faltered. “You're …
glowing
…”

He gripped her shoulders. “Calm down! The heat's part of it, so just—calm down.” He touched the crow's feet at the corners of her eyes, traced the hard line of a cheekbone, smoothed over the thin crease that edged her mouth. He too had lines that weren't his before, and he was even thinner than she. He looked tired—mortally tired. On impulse she touched the ember-stone at her throat.

With the talisman's aid she saw that Thom shone with a rust-red fire, the color of old blood. “How do I look?” he whispered, knowing the ember's properties.

She tried to smile. “You don't want to know.” Swallowing, she added, “It's as if you have another Gift, or your own is—”

“Corrupted,” Thom finished. “Enough. We'll trade stories later. You look half dead.” He smoothed her hair with a shaking hand. “I just wanted to look at you, and see if … if you forgive me.”