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Alanna was silent as they entered the city and made for the inn Liam recommended. There was nothing she or Liam could do for the Saren refugees. Poverty was an illness she couldn’t cure; a civil war could not be stopped by just one knight. That’s something Liam and I have in common, she told herself. I don’t like feeling helpless, either.
The inn was the Mongrel Cur; it lived up to Liam’s recommendation. She spent the afternoon bathing, washing her hair, mending her clothes—simply relaxing. She wrote to Myles, Halef Seif, and Thom, although it would be weeks before she could hear from them. At last cooking smells called her to the common room and her dinner.
Liam suggested that they avoid notice in this restless town: he would not wear Shang insignia, and she and Coram should leave in their rooms anything to suggest that Alanna was a knight. That suited Alanna, who wanted to spend her time in Jirokan quietly. She dressed in boy’s clothes, but to be safe, tucked a dagger at the small of her back. Whistling cheerfully, she slung Faithful over a shoulder and went downstairs.
Liam and Coram had waited for her. As soon as she joined them, the waiters brought their food. A charmed serving girl bore Faithful away “to see what we might get a handsome fellow like you.” The cat shamelessly played up to his admirer.
Marenite Guardsmen and their women arrived to begin a night of drinking as the travelers finished their meal. Ignoring the soldiers, Coram and Liam played chess; Alanna divided her attention between the game and the Guards. Faithful rejoined them, his stomach full after his kitchen excursion.
The biggest of the Guards was a sergeant who looked as ill-tempered as he behaved. Clearly his men knew he was in a foul mood; they kept away from him. His lady, however, was bored by his sulks and didn’t care who knew it. Alanna watched as the lady tried to tease her sergeant into a better frame of mind. When this tactic failed, her eye began to rove until she saw Liam. Until that point Alanna had no personal involvement in the woman’s behavior. Forgetting that she was dressed like a boy—and that in the ill-lit room it would be hard to see the feminine shape under her clothes—she glared a warning. The lady didn’t notice.
The sergeant wasn’t aware that his companion’s attention had strayed. “Back in a minute, darlin’,” he belched. Getting up, he made for the privy.
The moment the huge Guard was out of sight, his lady came to Alanna’s table. It was Liam’s turn to move: his attention was locked onto the chessboard. Coram saw the expression on his knight-mistress’s face. He looked up to see the reason for Alanna’s scowl and grinned.
“So quiet ye lads are,” the woman purred as she put a hand on Liam’s shoulder. The Dragon glanced up, surprised. “Don’t ye care for female...companions?”
Alanna rose and hissed, “Where I come from, it’s considered polite to keep to the man you’re with.”
Startled, the woman glanced at her: she hadn’t noticed anyone but the big fellow. Why did this youth interfere? “What—the boy’s in love wiv’ ye, then?” she asked Liam. Liam chuckled and looked the woman over.
Coram clapped a hand over Alanna’s mouth, pushing her into her seat. “She can’t see ye’re a girl!” he whispered into her ear. “Liam can take care of himself!”
Coram took his hand away too soon. Alanna snapped, “What’re you looking for, Liam, fleas?” Her guardian sighed and corked his knight-mistress up again.
The lady ran scarlet nails through Liam’s hair. “Lads’re no fun, and this one don’t look like he knows much. Now me, I appreciate a man.”
Liam grinned at her as a muffled yell burst from Alanna. Coram put his lips close to the struggling knight’s ear. “D’ye want him t’think ye’re jealous? Ye’re givin’ a fair imitation of it.”
His words nettled Alanna. She didn’t want Liam Ironarm thinking any such thing! She quieted, and Coram loosened his grip. “I just don’t like people who’re so obvious!” she whispered back, knowing she was jealous.
A roar of fury split the air—the sergeant had returned. Anyone who thought he might be in the middle when battle lines were drawn moved quickly. The lady backed away from Liam.
Alanna saw the Dragon’s eyes turn a pale green before he turned to face the enraged Guard. “This isn’t what you think,” he said quietly.
The sergeant wasn’t interested. “On your feet!” He grabbed the Dragon’s tunic.
Liam grasped the sergeant’s wrist. “Forget this. I’m Liam Ironarm, the Shang Dragon—you’ll get hurt.”
The other man laughed. “Expect me t’think a Shang warrior’d sit with us ordinary folk?” His muscles bulged as he tried to lever his victim up.
Liam’s hands tightened. For a second nothing happened, then the bigger man howled in pain. Liam stood, and the Guard was forced to back away, unable to break his hold. Finally the Dragon released him. “The next time you’re told someone is Shang, pay attention.” He faced Alanna and Coram. “This place is too lively for me.”
The sergeant threw himself at Liam’s back. Alanna started to her feet, reaching for her knife; Coram tugged her down.
Liam dropped and twisted, boosting the bigger man over his shoulder. The Guard crashed into a table, to the fury of its occupants. He threw them aside with a curse and charged Liam. The Dragon pivoted, driving his left foot out into his attacker’s belly, then his chin. The sergeant dropped like a stone.
Two of the Guards rushed to help their comrade. Liam kicked a sword out of one Guard’s hand and flipped the other onto a table, then waited for the next attack—none came. He picked up the sergeant, asking, “Anything broken?”
“Hunh?” The Marenite was dazed.
Professionally, the Dragon checked his victim, then let him slide back to the floor. “You’ll live.” He glanced at the others, who seemed well enough, then beckoned to Alanna and Coram. “Let’s find someplace quieter.”
The crowd backed away as they made for the door. Alanna peered back: the troublesome lady knelt by her sergeant, cooing to him. Grinning, she followed her friends.
Midnight found Alanna and Liam seated on a wall overlooking the Shappa River. Coram had left in search of a card or dice game; Faithful went to meet a lady cat yowling in
her master’s garden. Alanna and Liam had visited the tent city to question the refugees about conditions in Sarain. Now they listened to the river and the distant howl of a wolf.
“I like how you fought back there,” Alanna said sleepily. “No mess, no broken bones, no dead. Nice.”
“I’m glad they took the hint,” yawned Liam.
“Traveling with you is fun.” She hesitated, then asked, “Did Coram tell you why we’re bound for the Roof of the World?”
“He said you had a map for some treasure. It makes no sense, risking your lives for gold that might or mightn’t be there. But you have no better plans—”
“It isn’t gold,” she interrupted quietly. “It’s the Dominion Jewel. I want to find it and bring it home, for the glory of Tortall.”
He smoothed his mustache, as he often did when he was thinking. “Not to mention that the deed would prove you’re worthy of your shield.” He jumped down and held his hands up to her. She slid into his grasp, and they kissed. “Gifted one, when it comes to a hero’s deed, you don’t think small.”
“Liam?” She tried not to plead. “What’re you doing next?”
“Riding with you and Coram, I expect.”
It was barely dawn. Liam was dressed when he woke Alanna. “You want to learn Shang, you keep Shang hours! Up!” He reached for the water pitcher.
She tumbled out of bed. “I’m up!”
“The stableyard, five minutes,” he commanded. He slammed the door behind him. Alanna lurched to her feet.
You’re ruining my rest, Faithful grumbled.
Alanna dashed cold water on her face. “Good!” Dressing, she wailed, “Why did I pick a man who’s a grouch in the morning?”
The Marenite Guardsmen said they were crazy to enter Sarain, but they let Alanna’s party through. The difference between the nations was soon clear: healthy Marenite farms gave way to burned-out homesteads. Often they found the leavings of refugees who’d camped on the Great Road before crossing into Maren. The road was deserted.
Alanna worked at her lessons. Liam grew less gruff at exercise time when he saw she practiced longer than she had to and complained less than most beginners. He taught her only a few hand blows, the arm blocks, and two kicks. But in these he drilled her endlessly, watching for the tiniest flaw. At night they shared a bedroll, with Coram’s unspoken approval.
