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Alanna looked away, feeling cold. “He deserved to die. He tried to murder the Queen.”
“It bothers you still?”
Looking at him, Alanna saw understanding. He knows, she thought. He knows about things like betrayal, and being afraid, and the looks on people’s faces when they know you did something they thought impossible. “Sometimes. Everyone admired him. It all happened at once: me finding what he planned; him revealing that I’m a girl in front of the court. I wanted to have time for people to get used to who I really am!
“Then I killed him. I don’t even like killing. So I wonder, sometimes.”
“Don’t fret.” He took her hand and gave it a squeeze. “He was rotten clean through—take my word for it.”
“You knew him?”
He nodded, his eyes a distant green. “We met—a long time ago.”
“How? Why did you hate him? I mean, it seems as if you hated him. Everyone I knew liked him, nearly everyone.” She sat up eagerly. “It isn’t fair. You know everything about me.”
He chuckled, his eyes warming. “I’ll tell you someday, kitten—if you’re very good.” He smoothed his mustache.
She blushed. A cautious thought warned, You’ll be in trouble if you don’t watch out! You don’t know anything about him, and he’s got you half into his arms! She drew back. “You’re flirting with me,” she told him sternly.
“Fun, isn’t it?” he grinned.
“Who are you? What do you do?” Alanna wanted to know. “Pair’s fair!”
She stopped, hearing a commotion at the door. A familiar voice caroled, “Such sights the Princes never did see/And they honor the Beggar to this very day!” She winced.
“That’s my friend Coram,” she told Liam, rising. “If I don’t stop him, he’ll sing the verse with the merchants and the fishwives, and we’ll all be in for it.”
Liam’s grin flashed. “I know the song.” He kissed her hand. “You’ll see me again—my word on it.”
With persuasion and bullying she got her boisterous man-at-arms to his chamber, where he collapsed on the bed. “Jendrai is back from his country house today,” he yawned. “He’ll see us tomorrow evenin’.” Within seconds he was snoring.
Alanna let herself out of his room, planning to go to bed rather than look for the unsettling Liam again. She had unlocked her door when the innkeeper came up the stairs, rubbing his hands delightedly. Seeing her, he asked, “Be there anything else you need?”
“I’m fine,” she reassured him. Nodding toward the noisy common room downstairs, she added, “It sounds like you have more than enough to do.”
Windfeld beamed. “It’s a good house tonight—a very good house. No surprise, with you and the Shang Dragon here.”
“The Shang Dragon?” She’d never had a chance to talk with one of the fabled Shang warriors. She’d always wanted to; now the gods had put her in the same inn with the best of them. “He’s here? Will you introduce me?”
Windfeld looked at her strangely. “I didn’t think you needed introducing’, not with you and him talkin’ like you were.”
“Liam?”
“Liam Ironarm, the Dragon of Shang. He didn’t tell you?” Alanna shook her head. “And you didn’t know? He knows of you—he told me so this mornin’.”
“I don’t know anyone in the Order of Shang,” she informed him. “They don’t associate much with nobles or with the Bazhir.”
“Well, you seem to be on good enough terms with the Dragon,” the man said slyly. Alanna blushed a beet red and went into her room with a hasty “Good night.”
To give Windfeld and the Wandering Bard credit, it was not her bed or her room that kept her awake. The bed was comfortable; the walls were thick enough to muffle the common room’s noise. At first it seemed as if little things kept her awake. First it was her cat, scratching on the door for admittance. Then it was the light of the full moon falling across her eyes, until she got up and drew the curtain across her window. Then she found the room stuffy. With a sigh she rose again to open the window only a crack, because the weather was still raw.
She couldn’t clear her mind of thought. Partly it was the excitement of having a chance at last to talk with a Shang warrior. What she knew of the legendary order of warriors she’d learned piecemeal. Warriors named after mythical beasts—unicorn, griffin, phoenix—were the best of their order: the Dragon was the best of the best. Each Shang warrior received an animal’s name after passing an ordeal and then living in the world a year. She knew that Shang accepted boy and girl children, no older than seven years of age and as young as four, to study their hard way of life. The were required to master many kinds of weapons and, more interestingly, a number of barehand techniques of fighting.
So Liam was the Shang Dragon. That explained why he was bold enough—or uncaring enough—to go weaponless. He had little to fear from human predators. He has dragon’s eyes, she thought, remembering how they changed color. Pale green when he doesn’t want to share anything with you, and—she grinned—blue-green when he’s flirting.
She finally gave up on sleep and dressed, thinking maybe a ride would settle her. Within moments she, Faithful, and her gold-colored horse Moonlight were galloping out of Berat. They rode on and on while Alanna remained deep in her thoughts, not noticing how much ground they covered. She paid little attention to the road or the fog that closed in. She was too preoccupied.
All her life she’d planned to be a knight-errant, roving the world to do great deeds. But now she was learning that such a life included periods of boredom, riding through countryside that seldom changed. Not every village had a cruel overlord; few crossroads were held by evil knights.
At home, if the King wished it, he could put her on border patrols like the other knights she knew, hunting bandits and raiders. But she didn’t think the King would give her such work. Roald was most displeased that she had lied about who she truly was. A quiet man who preferred harmony at his court, the King said little, but he left Alanna no doubt that he disapproved of her.
In any case, she knew Tortall. She wanted to go places she didn’t know. She wanted to see places left off most Tortallan maps—the lands south of Carthak; the Roof of the World and what lay beyond it. Surely there would be things for her to do once she’d left the more civilized areas behind.
Moonlight stopped, tossing her head nervously, and Alanna had to take notice. By then the fog was so thick she couldn’t see the road beneath the mare’s feet. The knight dismounted, taking the reins to lead her mare, but they had plodded only a few yards when Moonlight halted, ears flat with alarm. No amount of urging would make her go forward, which worried her mistress. Moonlight was careful, but not timid. If she thought something was wrong, Alanna paid attention. She looked at Faithful. The cat sat calmly in his saddle-cup, ears pricked forward. Fog held them; it muffled even the clink of the harness.
Now Alanna felt something odd. She sneezed. The emberlike stone she wore at her throat burst into fiery light, growing warm against her skin. In front of them the fog wove and braided itself to form a tall woman. She was green-eyed and black-haired, shining in her own magic light. The fog was her dress, glittering with drops of water.
Alanna had only seen her once before, when the woman had given her the emberstone. Now she released the reins and dropped to her knees, bowing her head. “Goddess,” she whispered.
“Where do you ride, my Daughter?” The immortal’s voice was beautiful and terrible, carrying echoes of the wind and of hounds in a pack. “Is it not late for a ride for pleasure?”
“I couldn’t sleep, my Mother.”
A cool hand cupped Alanna’s chin, making her look up. She met the Great Goddess’s eyes without flinching, even though her body was quivering. “You have achieved all you desired, have you not? A shield is yours, rightfully won. You have slain your greatest enemy. What do you seek now, Alanna?”
Alanna shrugged. “I don’t know. I feel there’s something important I should be doing, but
I have no idea what it is. I’m just—drifting. That’s why I brought the map here to be translated. Maybe it’ll point me toward—Unless you need me for something?” she asked, hopeful.
The Goddess smiled. “I do not plan mortals’ lives for them, Alanna. You must do that for yourself. However, if you follow the map, you will find its path interesting. But think as you ride.” She picked up Faithful, who’d been waiting at her feet. “What will become of you? Will you drift all your days?”
Faithful chirped to the Goddess, his tail waving, and she smiled at him. Now that he had the Mother’s attention, he addressed her at length. Try though she might, Alanna couldn’t tell what he said.
Finally the Goddess put him down. The edges of her form grew indistinct, blending with the fog once again. “For a while longer, my friend,” she told the cat. “Do not disappoint me.” Faithful returned to Alanna, who held him close. The immortal was now a shadow, her voice distant. “Who will you be, Alanna?” She was gone.
For the first time since she’d saddled Moonlight, Alanna paid attention to her surroundings. She was in a forest, and that was baffling. This was the same road she and Coram had taken on their way to Berat. That morning they’d left the woods just after dawn, entering farm country. How could she have done a day’s ride in a few hours?
The fog was still too thick for safe riding. Finding a rock, the knight sat to await the dawn, feeling cold, damp, and tired. She was beginning to nod off when the breezes came to scatter the mist, unveiling the road. Yawning, she mounted up and urged Moonlight into a trot. Faithful went to sleep without a word. Alanna envied him. Her jaws cracked every time she yawned, and her eyelids felt heavy. At last she dozed.
