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Alanna stepped from behind the screen. Her eyes were red and swollen. If she had been crying, Coram knew better than to mention it. “Maybe I was born that way, but I don’t have to put up with it!”
He looked at her with alarm. “Lass, ye’ve got to accept who ye are,” he protested. “Ye can be a woman and still be a warrior.”
“I hate it!” she yelled, losing her temper. “People will think I’m soft and silly!”
“Ye’re hardly soft,” he replied sharply. “And th’ only time ye’re silly is when we talk like this.”
Alanna took deep breaths. “I’m going to finish what I set out to do,” she informed him quietly.
He put a hand on her shoulder. “Alanna, child, ye’ll be happy only when ye learn t’ live with who ye are.” She had no answer for this, but he didn’t expect one. “I’ll pick up more bandagin’ when I go down t’ the city today,” he said. “Get along now. Ye’ll be late, else.”
* * *
It wasn’t easy to live with the binding on her chest. For one thing, her growing breasts hurt, though luckily they remained quite small. She was twice as careful now about how far she opened her shirt, and that summer the boys tried their best to get her to take it off entirely. The best time for this was when they went swimming. All summer Alanna refused to go into the water, no matter what persuasion was used. Persuasion always stopped short of trying to physically force her—no one had forgotten Ralon of Malven.
One day near the beginning of August Raoul tried his luck. “C’mon, Alan,” he teased. “One small dip. Or are you afraid you’ll wash off a protective coat of dirt?”
Alanna had had enough. She jumped up, her face beet red. “I hate swimming!” she yelled. “And I’m cool enough—so lay off!”
Someone giggled. Raoul was head and shoulders taller than the page who was glaring at him so fiercely.
“Alan, he’s only teasing,” Alex called.
“I’m tired of being teased!” she snapped. “All summer long I put up with this. Why can’t I do what I want without being pestered all the time?”
Raoul shrugged. Unlike Alanna, Raoul had no temper to speak of. Nothing seemed to make him angry. “Well, if you’re going to be touchy, I won’t bother you anymore.”
“Fine!” She glared at the other boys. “And unless I stink, I don’t want to hear about it ever again!”
There was a heavy silence. At last Jonathan said, “Come back in the water, Raoul. You can’t argue with Alan—he’s crazy.”
Shaking slightly, Alanna returned to her shady tree. She felt more than a little ashamed of herself and wished—not for the first time—that she could keep a rein on her temper.
The boys left her alone for the rest of the afternoon. As they rode home, Alanna trotted Chubby ahead so she could catch up with Raoul.
“Raoul?” she asked softly. “A word with you?”
They dropped to the back of the column. “Are you going to yell at me again?” Raoul asked frankly.
Alanna blushed and looked at her saddle. “No. I wanted to apologize. I shouldn’t have lost my temper.”
Raoul grinned. “I was teasing you,” he admitted. “Sure, you got mad. You’ve a right to do as you want.”
She looked at him with shock. “I do?”
Raoul frowned. “I hadn’t meant to say anything, but since I have the chance—Alan, you seem to think we won’t like you unless you do things just like everyone else. Have you ever thought we might like you because you’re different?”
Alanna stared at him. Was he teasing her again?
Raoul smiled. “We’re your friends, Alan. Stop thinking we’re going to jump on you for the least little thing.”
“Hey, Raoul,” someone called from up front. “Will you settle this bet?”
Nodding to Alanna, the big squire urged his horse to the front of the column.
“Did you patch that up?” Gary asked. Alanna turned. The other large squire was just behind her.
“Don’t you know it’s rude to eavesdrop?” she asked crossly.
He grinned. “How would I learn anything if I didn’t eavesdrop? Listen—I’m tired of all the arguments. I’ll make sure no one asks you to swim again.”
Alanna hung her head. “I don’t mean to be difficult,” she muttered.
Gary laughed. “Of course you do. It’s one of your charms. Come on. We’re lagging behind.”
She followed as he urged his horse through one of the many palace gates. Between Gary and Raoul, Alanna had much to think about. The idea that she might be liked because she was different was poppycock, of course. Being squires certainly made Gary and Raoul say strange things.
She and Gary caught up with Jonathan after stabling their horses. There was a sizable group of pack mules and horses in the stableyard, waiting to be fed and cared for.
“Looks like we have an important guest,” Jonathan noted. “Let’s nip by the entry hall and see who’s here.”
The three boys hurried through the palace corridors, coming at last to the entry hall. A huge pile of baggage stood there, growing smaller as an army of servants took pieces of it away. A big man, still wearing a dusty traveling cloak, directed the palace servants and his own people.
Jonathan gave a glad cry. “Roger!” He ran to hug the newcomer while Alanna and Gary halted nearby.
So this is Jon’s cousin, Alanna thought, looking the newcomer over. Duke Roger of Conté was over six feet in height, with brown-black hair and a beard neatly trimmed to frame his handsome face. His eyes were a bright, riveting blue. He had a straight, perfectly carved nose; his mouth was red and full. His white, flashing smile was filled with charm and confidence. He was broad-shouldered and muscular, with strong-looking hands. Very attractive, Alanna decided. So why am I not attracted to him? If anything, I think I dislike him!
“So he’s arrived at last,” she murmured to Gary. She’d have to figure out why she didn’t like Jonathan’s cousin later.
“I—er—‘happened to overhear’—”
“You eavesdropped again,” Alanna said sternly.
“As I was saying, I happened to overhear that he’s to teach you Gifted ones sorcery,” Gary went on. “Also, the king wants him to find out who sent us the Sweating Sickness—not that they’ll try something like that again, not with Duke Roger here. Every sorcerer in the Eastern Lands would think twice before taking him on.”
“He’s that good?” Alanna aske
d thoughtfully.
“He’s that good.”
Duke Roger was coming toward them, one arm around Jonathan’s shoulders. “So you’re going to train your Gift? I’ll enjoy teaching you, Cousin!” He held out a hand to Gary. “Young Gareth of Naxen, isn’t it? You’ve grown since I saw you last.”
Gary shook the older man’s hand heartily. “Everyone says that, sir. Even my father says it, and he sees me nearly every day.”
Roger chuckled at this. “I don’t doubt your father’s right.” His voice was a light tenor, the most musical voice Alanna had ever heard in her life. She was staring at the Duke without shame when he turned to her. “And this young one? I’d remember eyes—and hair—like yours, I’m sure.”
“Duke Roger of Conté, may I present Alan of Trebond?” Jonathan said formally.
“Trebond?” the Duke smiled as Alanna bowed. “I’ve heard of your father. He’s a noted scholar, is he not?”
Alanna was quivering all over—like a nervous horse, she chided herself. She linked her hands behind her back before answering, “I believe so, your Grace.”
“Oh, please!” he protested. “Just ‘Lord Roger’ is fine, and I’d do away with that, if I didn’t think it would shock Duke Gareth. ‘Your Grace’ makes me feel old.”
Jonathan expected one of Alan’s pert answers and looked expectantly at his friend. To his surprise Alan looked thoughtful rather than charmed.
“How long are you here, Cousin?” Jonathan asked, drawing attention away from Alan’s odd silence.
“My uncle says he wants me to stay here for a while,” Roger replied, looking down at the Prince. “‘Make your home with us’ was the phrase he used.” The Duke shrugged his wide shoulders. “I think my wandering days are over.”
Jonathan grinned. “I can’t see why you’ve been avoiding us, anyway.”
“Not avoiding you,” Roger corrected him. “Educating myself. The difference is considerable. Now, would you be so kind as to take me to their Majesties? I think it’s time I greeted them.”
Alanna watched the Prince and his cousin go, frowning. She shook herself, trying to shed a cloak of uneasiness.
