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Liam helped with the tray. “Your tender feelings?” he joked. “You haven’t any.”
Alanna watched as they set out the food. Clearly they’d become friends, which was good if Liam pursued her (as he clearly meant to). Coram was difficult if he didn’t approve of her romances. His feelings had made for an uncomfortable week in George’s Port Caynn house, until the two men came to a truce (it helped that Coram had fallen in love with George’s cousin Rispah).
She watched the Dragon, remembering what she’d seen of his fighting. What was he like with sword or axe? If he was as fast with weapons as he was unarmed, he’d be almost unstoppable. She was good with sword and axe and bow, but take away her weapons and she was in trouble.
How can he want me? she asked herself, puzzled. He could have any woman—why pick one who’s not even very feminine? She took the tray he gave her, blushing when their hands touched. Well, that’s part of it, she thought as she spooned up soup. Sheer physical attraction.
Once the servants cleared the dishes, the three settled back to talk. “Coram showed me your map,” Liam informed her. “He tells me you’re bound for the Roof of the World.”
“Coram’s been very talkative,” she said dryly.
The older man flushed. “Liam’s been about these parts a bit, Miss. If he can advise us on the road to take, so much the better!”
Alanna turned to Liam. “Well?”
“You should avoid Sarain.”
“Is their civil war so bad?”
Peeling an orange, he nodded. “Do you know anything about the Saren?”
“Some,” she replied, bristling at the hint she was ignorant. “I had an excellent education.”
He looked doubtful. “Nobles rarely know as much as they think they do—not about the real world. Who rules Sarain?”
Alanna scowled. She had not thought Liam might have a side she didn’t like, but this older-and-wiser-head approach got under her skin. “The jin Wilima—their title is warlord, not king. The current one is—uhm—Adigun, the third jin Wilima ruler. Two years ago rebels tried to overthrow him and crown Dusan zhir Anduo in his place. Zhir Anduo’s descended from their former kings, the zhirit Kaufain.”
Coram gave the Dragon an elbow in the ribs. “So there.”
“You are educated,” chuckled Liam.
Alanna glared at both men. “My adoptive father keeps up with things. He says zhir Anduo’s rebels won’t unseat their Warlord.”
“That was true once.” Liam poked the fire and added another log. “Jin Wilima bought mercenaries last spring. They destroyed towns, crops—people.” His eyes turned icy green. “The K’mir rebelled against both sides.”
“The K’mir are tribesmen, like our Bazhir,” explained Coram.
“Jin Wilima married one—her name was Kalasin.” Liam scratched Faithful’s upturned chin. “The most beautiful woman in the world.”
“What happened to her?” Alanna sat up, hugging her knees, intrigued by this glimpse of an alien society.
Liam shook his head. It was Coram who answered quietly, “Killed herself last summer. Her daughter Thayet’s as lovely as she was, they say.”
“But Thayet isn’t the heir,” Liam said. “The throne’s up for whoever can take it, and the K’mir promise to fight the winner.”
Alanna thought it over. “Can we avoid passing through Sarain?”
“Get a boat out of Fortress Jirokan at the border,” Liam told her. “Take it down the Shappa, then a coastal runner to Udayapur—”
Alanna blanched. “No boats!” The handful of times she’d been in one, she had been disgracefully sick.
Coram grinned. “I told ye, lad.”
The Dragon smoothed his mustache. “Then take the Shappa Road to the Inland Sea, and the Coast Road east. The war’s in the mountains and highlands, not down by their coast.”
Alanna struggled with a yawn. Liam rose. “Past your bedtime, little girl. I’ll ride with you as far as the Saren border, whichever way you choose.”
Alanna consulted Coram with a look; he nodded his approval. “We’ll be glad to have your company.” She added, “I always wanted to learn Shang fighting—the unarmed kind.”
Liam shook his head. “You’re too old.”
Alanna glared at him. “First you call me ‘little girl’ and then you say I’m too old. Make up your mind.”
“And then she’ll go to a great deal of effort t’prove ye wrong,” Coram joked as the opened he door for Liam. Returning to his knight-mistress, he drew his chair over to the bed. “I like him. He won’t let ye run him ragged.”
Alanna fidgeted with her blankets. “You don’t look ragged to me.”
“I put on a brave front,” he teased. More seriously, he went on, “Have ye decided which road we’ll take?”
“I like going straight through Sarain. We can deal with bandits, one way or another.”
Startled, Coram asked, “Ye’ll use yer Gift?”
“What’s wrong with that?”
The man shrugged. “I don’t know. I had the thought ye didn’t care to mix fightin’ and magic.”
“I don’t care to get either of us killed, if it comes to that. We can avoid the armies, if any of them are in the highlands this time of year. That way, we come to the Roof just five days’ ride from Chitral Pass. If we take the Coast Road, we’ll be two weeks riding north from Udayapur. That’s an extra nine days in those mountains in May or June.” Alanna shivered.
Coram thought it over, then met her eyes. “Not t’mention ye think a ride through the Saren highlands will be more interestin’.”
Alanna grinned. “There’s that.” She smothered a yawn. “Do me a favor, Coram?”
“It depends.” Long experience with her had made him wary.
“Tell me a story of the Dominion Jewel, please,” she suggested. “I’ve forgotten most of them.”
He sat back. “A tale, then? Ye haven’t asked me for one of them in years. Which one? Ah. Miache was a Carthaki waterfront thief, three hundred years ago. The Gallans hired her t’steal the Jewel from their own king, that was descended from Giamo—a great-great grandson, he was. Them that hired Miache wanted t’rule in his place.
“Miache stole the Jewel, right enough—and she kept it. She ran for the River Drell, the same that’s our border with Galla and Tusaine and Maren. She might’ve borne it home to Carthak, too, but for Zefrem the Bear. He was a mercenary, and a good one, headin’ south on the river when he pulled Miache out of it. Before long they were lovers. She was a pretty thing, with hair like moonglow and a heart of pure ice. Zefrem cracked that heart some, though.
“When they came t’the city of Tyra, the Carthaki navy was attackin’. The local folk were starvin’. Their nobles had run; their rulin’ duke was crazy. The only thing keepin’ Carthak out was the walls, and they couldn’t hold against Carthaki siege engines.” Faithful jumped up on the bed and curled up beside Alanna while Coram poured himself a tankard of ale. He took a good swallow and continued.
“Zefrem, now, was never a man for a losin’ fight, let alone one already lost. And Miache—she’d watch her own mother starve unless there was somethin’ in it for her. All who knew them said it had t’be the Dominion Jewel that brought them t’stay in Tyra. They didn’t even know how to use it, but it seems the Jewel used them.
“Zefrem took command, trainin’ the men who were left and buildin’ catapults to throw fireballs at the ships. Miache and the city’s swimmers, some of them younglings, they’d swim out t’harry the Carthaki navy. They even sank some of the barges full of men and catapults. Miracles started happenin’—birds found nestin’, when the city had none. Schools of fish appearin’ in canals under the city, where no fish’d been before. Men and their families began to move into the city even durin’ the war, t’make their homes and t’fight for Tyra. They didn’t know why they came. It was the Jewel, callin’ them.
“They saved Tyra, Miache and Zefrem and the Dominion Jewel. The city was a pirate’s nest when they came, a sinkhole
fit only for cutthroats and thieves. They made it a lawful tradin’ city where a man’s word was a bindin’ contract. The man and woman vanished, and the Jewel came next to Norrin, but Tyra still prospers. That was three hundred years gone.”
Alanna sighed when Coram finished, moved by his tale and the matter-of-fact way he’d told it.
He got up and stretched. “Anything else?”
“Coram, thank you. For everything—for bringing me up, and helping me...”
“There, now,” he scolded gently. “Don’t go all sentimental. Ye’ll embarrass us both.” Surprisingly, he bent and kissed her forehead. “Good night, yer ladyship.”
Experience had taught Alanna how long injuries took to heal and how far she could push herself during the recovery process. She hated to stay in bed any longer than necessary. Each hour there meant more work to return to peak condition. The day after she awoke, she was outside, going through sword exercises using Coram’s broadsword. She was careful not to overdo or to rush, but she was persistent.
