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“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.
5
BY THE RIVER DRELL
THE MEN WHO DEFENDED FORT DRELL 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.
“That’ll hold them a bit,” a ratty-looking man agreed when the tent had quieted. “An’ you know who’s in command here at the Falls? His Highness the prince!”
The man called Thor frowned. “And this the prince’s first war command? Else they think the enemy’s not plannin’ much up this way—”
“Mayhap the Tusaine needed a rest from us,” someone joked.
Laughing with them, Alanna choked on a bean. She coughed and swore, her eyes watering. A huge hand beating on her back nearly broke her spine.
“There, little fella. Somethin’ go down the wrong pipe?” Thor asked. Alanna gasped for breath, trying to grin into the giant’s bright blue eyes. Thor stared at her. “Will you look,” he whispered. “The tyke has purple lamps!”
/> The others crowded around to see. Alanna stared back at them with wide eyes, blushing.
“And where might you be from?” Thor wanted to know.
Alanna regained her breath. “I came with the new troops this morning.”
“Aren’t you a mite young to be goin’ to war?” the ratty-looking man asked.
Alanna stiffened proudly. “I’m sixteen next month.”
“Nay!” he replied with disbelief. “You ain’t more’n twelve!”
Aram pushed through the crowd and nodded to her. “No, he’s near sixteen, well enough. He’s the prince’s squire. I’m lookin’ after their horses.”
“How did a wee fella like you get to be the prince’s own squire?” Thor asked as the others muttered among themselves.
“That ‘wee fella,’” someone said coldly, “is one of the best fencers at Court. He beat a full Tusaine knight in a duel last year, all by himself.”
