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Gary looked at her. “Are you falling sick with something, youngster?”
Alanna hunched her shoulders impatiently. “I’ve never been sick in my life.”
“Then what’s wrong? He was being friendly, and if you were a dog your hackles would’ve been up.”
“I’m not a dog,” she said crossly. “Why should he be friendly with me? I’ve never seen him before.”
“But he’ll have heard of you. You helped heal Jon—now what?” There was a strange look in Alan’s eyes. If Gary hadn’t known his friend better, he’d have sworn that look was one of fear.
“I don’t like grownups taking an interest in me,” Alanna replied. She was afraid. “I don’t like people nosing in my affairs, especially sorcerers. Come on—we’ll be late for dinner.”
Gary followed, more confused than ever by Alan’s response. Was he hiding something? It was a question for him to ponder on a rainy day.
Shortly after Roger’s arrival, each page or squire was summoned to an interview with the king’s nephew: He tested them all for the Gift. Gossip said he would find it even if a boy tried to hide it.
Alanna was one of the last to be called. Clenching sweaty hands, she entered Duke Roger’s study. The Duke of Conté was lazing in a tall-backed chair, turning a jeweled wizard’s rod between his fingers. He glimmered in a many-colored tunic and red-purple hose; if Alanna admired anything about him, it was Roger’s taste in clothes.
He smiled. “Alan of Trebond.” He gestured to the chair facing his desk. “Please, have a seat.”
Alanna sat carefully, folding her hands in her lap. Every nerve in her body was on the alert. She hadn’t gotten this far to be caught.
“I understand you used your Gift to heal my cousin of the Sweating Sickness.”
“Sir Myles directed me, sir.”
“It must have required a good deal of power on your part, though. You took a great risk.”
“My village healing woman had trained me, sir. And I was exhausted for days after.” She watched his face. He seemed to accept that Myles had done the thinking and she had supplied the power, so Myles hadn’t talked about that night. She liked that.
“Well, at least I don’t have to ask you any useless questions. We already know you have the Gift, and in abundance. And you learned from your village healing woman?”
“Yes, sir. My father didn’t know we were trained, though. He didn’t want us learning any sorcery—he’d throw a fit if he thought I was learning it here.”
“Then we won’t tell him. You say ‘we.’ Tell me about your brother. I understand you’re twins?” Roger’s bright eyes never left hers. Alanna frowned and rubbed her forehead. Suddenly she had a headache.
“He’s in the City of the Gods, sir. Father sent him to be a priest, but I think he plans to take up sorcery.”
Roger smiled. “A noteworthy ambition. What is his name?”
“Thom, sir.” Why was he staring at her so?
The man looked at the jeweled rod in his hands. “My cousin speaks highly of you, Alan of Trebond.”
“We’re friends, your Grace.” She discovered she couldn’t look away from him.
“My uncle-in-law, Duke Gareth, also speaks highly of you. You are a most worthy young man by all accounts.”
Alanna blushed with shame. If they knew the truth, they wouldn’t speak well of her. “Your Grace is very kind.” She wished he would let her go. She had never had such a fierce headache.
Roger sighed. Suddenly Alanna could look away from him, and the pain in her head lessened. “I am not often kind, Alan.” He tapped his rod against his hand for a moment. Finally he said, “I think I learned what I needed to. Report to me in my solarium Monday after breakfast. You may go.”
Alanna bowed and left gratefully, her head still pounding. She felt exhausted and a little nauseous. Coram appeared at her side, a worried frown on his face.
“Well?” he demanded.
Alanna didn’t ask how he knew. It was almost impossible to keep anything from the palace servants.
She rubbed her temples. “Maybe I’m crazy—but why do I feel like more went on in there than just his asking me questions?”
“Because maybe it did.” Coram pulled her into an empty room. “I heard the Duke of Conté can catch yer will and make it his own,” the man whispered. “They say he’ll reach into yer mind, make ye say what he wants t’ hear—unless ye’re defended. Unless there’s a wall in ye he can’t reach over.”
“Well, I don’t know that kind of magic,” she snapped, the headache making her cross. “But he didn’t learn anything from me I didn’t want to tell him. I’m sure of it.”
“Then yer magic’s stronger than his,” Coram said. “Or ye’re protected by the gods.”
This was too much for Alanna. She laughed and gave Coram a shove. “You’ve been nipping at Cook’s wine! Protection from the gods! Making me say what I don’t want to say! Go on with you!”
Coram opened the door. “Laugh if ye want.” He shrugged. “I’m only an ignorant old freeman, listenin’ to stories by the fire. But if it’s all so funny, why do ye look as if someone pulled ye through a currycomb?”
There was no answer to that, and Alanna didn’t even try to invent one.
* * *
One fall evening Stefan the hostler gave her a note.
“You’ve been looking for a horse,” it read. “I have one. Come to the city first chance you get. George.”
A horse! A real horse, the kind of horse a warrior ought to have! Alanna scribbled sums on a sheet of paper. After careful figuring she decided she could buy a horse—if it was the right horse. Wistfully she said farewell to sweets for a long time—but a real horse would be worth it. She was tired of riding palace horses, and Chubby was getting old. The pony deserved a rest.
She knew very little about horse buying. With such a large purchase, Alanna wanted an expert opinion. Who could she ask? With wrestling in the afternoons as her worst subject, it meant she could take free time only in the morning. Coram had guard duty in the morning, so that let him out. Also, Coram didn’t know about George, and Alanna didn’t want him to know. For some reason, she suspected the old soldier would not approve of the thief. Gary was also unavailable—he was restricted to the palace for one of his numerous pranks.
She nibbled her thumb. Who could she introduce to George?
* * *
Alanna needed two steps to match one of Jonathan’s. This made the walk into the city brisk, but their pace was suited to the crisp fall day. Alanna watched her friend, thinking. The Prince, just fifteen in August, was growing again. Already he measured five feet seven inches. His voice was beginning to boom and crack, too, just as Gary’s and Raoul’s had last year. Soon Alanna would have to start faking the voice change herself. We’re all growing up, she thought, and sighed.
Jonathan heard the sigh and looked down at her. “I’m glad to help pick your horse,” he commented, “but why all the secrecy? You never told me you had relatives in the city.”
Alanna made a face. “I had to tell Duke Gareth something. You see, the man we’re meeting—he’s not a relative. He’s a friend. Thanks for coming with me, Jonathan.”
He tousled her hair. “I’d do anything to get out of Reports in Council. It’s the spring planting today—that always puts me to sleep.”
Alanna led him into the Dancing Dove. Old Solom was asleep on one of his tables. Alanna roused him with a friendly slap on the back.
“Wake up, you old drunk. Is George around?”
Solom peered at her. “Why, it’s Master Alan. But not Master Gary?”
“Master Gary won’t be around till Midwinter Festival,” she told him.
“At his tricks again, eh?” Solom shook his white head with appreciation. “He be a lively one. I’ll get his Majesty.” He hobbled up the stairs.
Jonathan was looking around. “‘His Majesty’?” he whispered. “And how does this man know Gary?”
“Oh, Gary comes
with me all the time.” Alanna avoided the other question by following Solom. Jonathan had no choice but to go along.
George was finishing breakfast when the innkeeper showed them in. Staring at Jonathan, he rose. Finally he bowed, his grin mocking. “Solom, go back to sleep,” he ordered. When the older man was out of earshot, the thief murmured, “Your Highness—I’m honored.” He looked sharply at Alanna. “And it seems I’ve misjudged you once again, youngling. I’ll not do that a third time, be assured.”
Alanna turned pink. “I just brought him along for fun,” she muttered.
“What’s going on?” Jonathan wanted to know, fixing Alanna with a bright eye.
“You didn’t tell him?” George asked.
