The Song Of The Lioness Quartet - In The Hand Of The Goddess Part 17

Thinking of Delia sent her to the wooden chest she kept at the foot of her bed, locked and magically protected. Opening it, she drew out her pretty clothes-a lace-trimmed chemise, delicate silk stockings, tiny leather slippers, a purple silk dress. She even took out the black wig she normally wore in public: there weren't enough violet-eyed redheds around to warrant her leaving her rooms without some kind of disguise.

She dressed and admired herself in the mirror. She wasn't a beauty like Delia, but she wasn't a hag, either. Defiantly she picked up a cloak and threw it over her shoulders. There was no law that said she had to be a boy on her seventeenth birthday, and Faithful wasn't there just then to advise caution. Touching the ember-stone and feeling the charm to ward off pregnancy beside it, Alanna grinned. She'd never do anything to get herself pregnant, of that she was certain. Still, she couldn't help but think of....

Amused that she was silly enough to wonder what s.e.x was like, Alanna peered out her door. The hallway was clear, and she was going for a walk in the gardens! What if Jonathan was with Delia? She was free and independent, and that was the important thing!

She felt bold and wonderful, strolling through the luxurious palace gardens by herself. Finding an isolated bench, she put her cloak aside and sat down. The moon was full, and she relaxed in its soft silver glow, turning her face up to it. A night for lovers, she thought, then bit her lip. She had no lover, and she didn't want one.

She left her cloak and walked through the rose gardens, inhaling the heavy scent of the blooming flowers. From here she could see the long terrace, where she had left Jonathan and Delia. Glancing at it she could see a man standing there now; he was watching her. Suddenly he went inside, and she lost her spirit of adventure. She didn't want one of her gallant friends coming out here to romance her; life was complicated enough!

He was waiting for her beside the bench where she had left her cloak.

"Hullo," he said casually, holding the garment up. "I think this is yours."

Alanna slid the wig from her hair. "How did you know it was me, Jonathan?"

He came forward, taking one of her hands in his. "I guessed. And then I saw how you walked, and I was sure."

Alanna made a face. "Mistress Cooper tries to cure me of walking like a boy, but it doesn't seem to take."

Jonathan lifted the gold charm off her throat, examining it. "What's this?" he asked. His voice was soft and warm.

Alanna was thankful for the darkness that kept him from seeing her blush. "It's a charm to-keep me from having children," she stammered. "Mistress Cooper gave it to me a-a long time ago."

Jon chuckled. "Have you ever tried it out?" he asked, putting his free arm around her. Alanna braced herself against his chest, trying to ignore the silly fluttering in her stomach or the heat running through her body.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she asked gruffly.

"This." Swiftly he kissed her again and again. Alanna felt giddy and was grateful that his tight hold kept her from falling. She was scared. She suddenly realized she wanted to be the one in his bed tonight.

Jonathan stopped kissing her, only to start unlacing her bodice.

Alanna shoved him away, terrified. "No!" she gasped, grabbing her laces. "I was crazy to think-Jonathan, please!"

The Prince realized she was trembling, her hands shaking too badly for her to lace herself. He shook his head and did the work for her.

"You're fighting what has to be," he said, "and you know it as well as I do."

"I-I know no such thing," she stammered. "I promised myself once that I'd never love a man! Maybe I almost broke that promise just now because of moonlight and silliness-"

"Stop it," he told her sternly. He made her look up at him. "We belong to each other. Is that silliness? Surely you've realized all along this had to happen." When she did not answer, he sighed. "Go away, before I change my mind."

Alanna ran. Once inside her room, she bolted the door, undressed and threw her clothes into a corner. This was what came of wearing a dress! Men got ideas when a person wore skirts! George vowed love to you without ever seeing you in skirts, a reasonable part of her mind said, but Alanna kicked that thought away. She paced nervously, snapping her fingers. Where was Faithful? She didn't want to be alone when Jonathan came back to his room. Suddenly her knees weakened, and she sat on her bed. Of course Jonathan wouldn't come back. He'd go to Delia now. He didn't want Alanna; he just wanted a girl to have fun with.

Oh? said that nasty, reasonable corner of her mind. Then why did he say what he did? Why did he say you belonged with him?

Hadn't the G.o.ddess told her to learn to love? Did she love Jonathan?

A sound in the other room startled her. He hadn't gone to Delia! He was preparing for bed in his own room, moving quietly so he wouldn't disturb her. He hadn't been looking just for amus.e.m.e.nt!

Alanna's lips quivered. She wanted Jonathan's love. To be honest, she had wanted that love for a long time.

She rapped on the door between their rooms. "Jon?"

He opened the door. His eyes were bright as he looked at her. Alanna swallowed. "I'm scared. Help me, please."

Jonathan's voice was rough as he said, "I'm scared, too. At least we can be scared together."

8: Fears

ALANNA was happy that summer. During the day she had lessons and duties-fewer lessons now and more duties, because she was entering her last year as a squire. She had Myles to advise her when Coram wrote with a particularly difficult problem at Trebond. She went to Mistress Cooper to talk and to learn more about a woman's life. At night, Jonathan taught her about loving. She was sorry to see the leaves begin to change color: somehow she knew her quiet, happy time was not going to last much longer.

DELIA of Eldorne paced in front of Duke Roger's chair, her green eyes glinting with anger. "I don't understand it!" she snapped for the tenth time. "I had him here-" She held out a slender white hand, palm up, before clenching it into a fist. "And now I suppose I'm to consider myself privileged if he dances with me once at a party!" She threw herself to her knees in front of Roger's chair, looking up at him prettily. "Master, forgive me," she begged. "I did everything you told me to. He just-" She stopped and looked downward, fluttering her heavy lashes.

Roger smiled and reached out, stroking her flowing, dark hair. "Don't fret, pretty one," he told her. "That young man is proving very slippery indeed. Fortunately, I have other plans ready to be put into action."

"Other plans?" Delia breathed, her eyes wide. "Master, can I help? Can I do anything to a.s.sist you? Only tell me!"

Roger looked off into the distance, still stroking the kneeling girl's hair. "There is nothing you can do for me just now," he remarked absently. "The next move on the board is mine." He looked down at her again, his eyes unreadable. "But you must hold yourself ready. If all goes wrong, I will need your help more than ever."

"Nothing could go wrong!" Delia protested violently. "Not when you have planned it!"

Duke Roger of Conte smiled again. "Perhaps you are right, my dear," he remarked. "I hope so. In the meantime, be a good child and wait. Give Jonathan to understand that, while he is no longer attentive to you, your affections remain his."

"And your other plans?" Delia whispered.

The sorcerer tugged his beard. "You will see," he promised her. "I cannot move carelessly-not yet-but I think you know me well enough to be able to detect what I am doing." He laughed outright. "No one else will be able to-I've made sure of that!"

AND in October a fever went through the Eastern Lands, as sicknesses often did. Few died, although many were ill, and the Queen was one of the sickest. Lianne had never been strong, and the fever refused to give her up easily. She recovered at last, but she did not get completely well.

During the Queen's illness Alanna and Jonathan were separated for the first time since Alanna's birthday, as Jonathan sat vigil by his mother's bedside day and night. Their love affair was not the same after that-Jon was too worried about his mother's health. He was not the only one. Alanna did not like to see the Queen picking at her food and losing weight she did not have to lose. Lianne also developed a cough that refused to go away, despite Duke Baird's best care.

"Myles," Alanna began one December night as they were playing chess, "does the Queen's weakness look-right to you?"

"It looks like it's killing her." Myles frowned. "Is that supposed to look 'right' to me?"

Alanna examined a knight thoughtfully. "Duke Baird's the finest healer in Tortall. Why can't he help the Queen?"

Myles looked sharply at her. "This isn't just idle conversation, is it? What's bothering you?"

Alanna nibbled her thumbnail. "I don't like it," she admitted. "I saw how much Duke Baird can do at the Drell. He's blessed by the G.o.ds. A fever, a cough-Duke Baird can heal those things in a moment. But now he can't. The only other time I saw him this helpless was during the Sweating Sickness." She moved a p.a.w.n forward one square. "There are some people who think the Sweating Sickness was caused by a sorcerer. You were one of them, remember?"

"Do you think there's a connection?" Myles asked.

"I don't know what to think," Alanna replied. Then she shook her head. "Yes, I do, and I'm going to say it. Too many bad things happen to Jonathan or to people close to him. I think-"