In the Hand of the Goddess (8 page)

“And you suspect foul play,” George prodded.

“Of course I do. But it doesn't make sense. Why should Tusaine go to the trouble of stopping Duke Gareth leading the army? That won't keep us from marching the day after tomorrow.”

George shook his head. “You're thinkin' like a warrior. Think like a plotter. There might be reasons closer to home as to why Duke Gareth fell from his beast.”

“Closer to home?” Alanna asked.

“Who benefits?” George wanted to know. “And stop thinkin' of fightin':
start
thinkin' of power. Who gains the most power from His Grace's ‘accident'?”

Alanna, about to retort that no one gained, remembered the man King Roald had appointed to Duke Gareth's place. Suddenly she swayed, feeling ill.

“Not a commander you'll be trustin' in the field, is he?” the thief asked softly.

Alanna was trembling. “I have to think about this.”

George nodded. “Think on it all you may please,” he said. “And watch where he places Jonathan and those loyal to Jonathan.” He smoothed a hand over her coppery hair. “Would that I didn't have to stay here and keep my own in line. I mislike sendin' you there with no one to help, but there's nothin' for it. I'd be a dead Rogue if I turned my back on my folk for as long as you'll be gone. A week or two, maybe. But not a month and more.”

Alanna smiled at him, wishing he
could
go with her. Things were always clearer when George was around. “I'll be all right,” she said with false assurance. “Faithful will be with me, and if things get bad I'll go to Myles. He's smart enough for three of us.”

George smiled down at her, his hazel eyes still worried. “That he is. 'Twill have to do. Watch for more accidents.”

“I don't think He wants to
hurt
me,” Alanna demurred. “Just learn my secret.”

“I believe he wants you out of the way before he goes further with his plans.”

Alanna had to laugh. “What threat could I
possibly be to
him
? No, I'm not as suspicious as you are, George. It must come from your line of work.”

Sensing she wanted to change the subject, George shrugged. “Mayhap when Jon is king I'll be givin' up my work.”

Alanna stared at him. “You're joking, surely.”

The tall thief sank into a chair, watching her intently. “I'm thinkin' of turnin' respectable and takin' me a wife.”

Alanna gave an ungentlemanly snort. “I like that!”

He never looked away from her. “Things look different as a man gets older.”

Alanna sat on a table, swinging her feet. “I'm just having trouble seeing you turn decent citizen. Who will you give your collection of ears to? And what trade will you take up? Jewel-selling? Returning what you stole, for a fee, of course?”

“I'm in no hurry. King Roald is a young man still. You see,” he went on, “I'm waitin' for my chosen bride to grow up. She couldn't be some citizen's daughter, could she? She must be a free soul who knows my past, who doesn't care for what's proper and what's not. Someone who wouldn't scream when she opened my treasure and found the collection you mentioned.”

Alanna wiped sweating palms on her tunic. She had a feeling she knew what he was leading up to, and she wished he would stop. “Good luck, George. I don't think a woman like that exists.”

George stood. Gripping her shoulders, he pulled her off the table. “I've already found her, and you know it well.”

Alanna glared up into his face. “You think highly of yourself!” she snapped. “I'm the daughter of a noble—”

He laughed softly. “Does that truly stand between us, Alanna? If you loved, would you care about birth or wealth?”

“Like must wed like,” Alanna whispered. She wanted to run, hard and fast, and she couldn't. If he was no sorcerer, what was this spell he was weaving around her?

“There are more important things than birth. What good will a well-born husband be when you take up your shield?”

“No husband at all will do me the most good. I don't plan to marry, and I certainly don't plan to fall in love.”

“So you say now. I'm a patient man, lass. If need be, I'll wait years. And I'll not speak of this to you
again. I only wanted you to know I'm yours to command.” He grinned.

Alanna tried to push away. Her heart was thumping rapidly and she felt giddy. She couldn't let this go any further. “We can go on being friends like before?”

“Friends, and good ones, I trust. Confess it, lass, you'd miss me sorely, were I not about.”

Alanna made the mistake of looking up into his laughing eyes. That was the problem, right there: She was not nearly ready for what she saw in his face. She looked down, afraid. “I—I won't let it ruin our friendship, George,” she whispered.

“And I won't speak of it again till you ask it. Look at me, Alanna.”

Alanna looked up. George kissed her, pulling her close. His mouth was warm and comforting. Alanna had not forgotten the last time, and she had discovered that she liked his kisses. Relaxing, she let her friend hold her tightly.

George pushed her away. Two spots of color burned in his cheeks. “This goes too far,” he rasped. “I only—I only wanted you to know how I feel, before you go marchin' off to some battlefield.”

Alanna blushed. “You pick a funny way to say good-bye, George.''

He lifted a quizzical eyebrow. “Do I? Sweethearts all over the realm say goodbye in just this fashion.” He kissed her once more, firmly, then went to the door, pulling up his hood.

“George?” she called softly as he released the lock. “I'll be back—and we're still friends.”

He nodded and left, leaving her with far more than a loose saddle and a bur to think about.

The next day Duke Roger called a meeting of his commanders. This time Alanna was present. She was relieved to learn that Gary and Raoul would be among the knights in Jonathan's personal unit, and still more relieved to know that Alex and Geoffrey would be with Roger at the fort. She and Alex were friendly once more, but she had never forgotten their “duel.”

She did not feel so easy when she saw where Duke Roger planned to position Jonathan's command.

The Duke stood before a large detailed map of the Drell Valley. In the center, where the fields lining the river were the widest, blue crosses clustered along the right bank indicated the Tusaine troop camp.

“As you can see,” Roger told them, pointing to the crosses, “the enemy is in place across the river
from Fort Drell.” Roger indicated the square on the left bank that represented the fort. “The bulk of our army will be stationed there, around and within the Fort. Lord Imrah of Legann's command will be concentrated above the fort, to the bend of the river below the Drell Falls. Below the fort Earl Hamrath of King's Reach will hold the bank down to the rapids at the end of the valley. Since the cliffs and the rapids are impassable at this time of year, we anticipate little trouble for Hamrath's men.

“At the falls themselves”—Roger's fingers moved north once more, picking out the upper end of the valley—“we have an interesting situation. The river here is broad and shallow, although the current is quite strong. A determined enemy
could
cross, although there is no room on the right bank for a proper camp because of the cliffs. Raiders would have to escape the notice of every lookout above the fort; but with a foggy night and cunning, there
is
a danger. I have decided to place Prince Jonathan and his knights just below the falls. Imrah of Legann is within call if trouble arises, and for footsoldiers I am sending the present garrison of Fort Drell. They are a little battle-worn, but they are brave men. Of course we should see any enemy movement well in advance of an attempt to cross, so I feel
this gives my young cousin an excellent command post without placing him in undue danger.”

Alanna, standing behind Jon's chair, could feel the prince stiffening with anger. She shot a glance at the king; Roald was nodding approval. Duke Gareth had planned to keep Jon with him at the fort so the prince could witness firsthand how a war was waged, but Roger obviously did not feel this was necessary. The Duke of Conté went on: “Since this
is
my cousin's first command, Sir Myles will be his advisor. It is our hope, my uncle's and mine, that the prince will listen well to a man of such wisdom.”

“And very little battle experience,” Alanna heard Myles mutter in his beard.

“We have but one thing to add,” the king said, rising. “Until we have fully thought through the moral issues of our holding the right bank of the Drell, which was Tusaine's until our honored father's time, you have our royal command to defend the
left bank
of the river only.
You may not cross
, in pursuit or in seeking active battle.”

The commanders stirred and murmured. Not cross the river? Not drive the Tusaine back to their own border? The king's voice flicked out like a lash. “We fight for the left bank only. See to it.”

They all rose and bowed as the king left the room. Once the door was closed, Hamrath of King's Reach sighed. “Well, rest up, lads. It's going to be a long summer.” He looked at Duke Roger. “Your Grace?”

“That is all,” Roger told them. “We ride at the hour past dawn tomorrow.”

They rode east for twelve long days. When they finally reached the pass descending into the Drell River Valley, Jon drew up Darkness, letting the long line of troops pass by. “Look, Alan.”

Rising up below them was Fort Drell. Across the river swarmed thousands of men in Tusaine uniform, occupying their main camp. Alanna followed Jonathan's pointing finger upriver until she could see a glint of white and silver through the trees.

“The Drell River Falls” Jonathan told her. “Our new home.”

Faithful, sitting in a leather cup fixed to Moonlight's saddle horn, yowled that he had preferred their
old
home. Alanna, stroking the dusty cat, had to agree. She had bad feelings about this “new home,” very bad feelings indeed.

T
HE MEN WHO DEFENDED
F
ORT
D
RELL UNTIL THE
arrival of the king's forces were camped below the Drell Falls, waiting for Prince Jonathan. The fact that they were veteran soldiers showed in the neatness of the camp and in the prepared look of the men. Alanna felt better when she saw them: She had a feeling these grim-faced commoners would fight well. They had spared her the work of putting up tents for Jonathan and Myles, which she appreciated. One of the soldiers, Aram, told her he was to look after the horses. All Alanna had to do was lay out Jonathan's and
Myles's things, as she would be looking after both of her friends on this campaign.

When noon came, Alanna was starving. She could ride down to the fort to eat with Jon, Myles, and the other knights gathered there for war councils, but she was sure she would die of hunger before she got that far. Leaving Faithful to nap on her cot, she searched the camp until she found the mess tent. The quest was easy: She followed her nose.

After filling her plate with beans and meat, Alanna sat at one of the long tables. The place on her right was soon occupied by a large foot soldier. His muscles bulged under his sturdy clothing, filling Alanna with envy, and his tanned and weathered face was framed by a thick red beard. The others greeted him eagerly, and the giant answered in a deep, rumbling voice. Alanna applied herself to her meal and listened to every word.

“What news of the enemy, Thor?” one man asked.

“No news,” the giant boomed. “They're sittin' as quiet as rabbits when the hunter's by. Perhaps they'll have heard of our reinforcements.”

Since only a blind man could have missed the thousand men and knights who had poured into the
Tortallan camps that morning, this sally was greeted with roars of laughter.