Lioness Rampant (11 page)

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.