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 Posted: Fri Oct 13, 2006 9:27 am
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Alanna of Trebond lurked in the shadows, unseen to all but the expert eye. She was a quiet, mysterious girl, that was the way she liked it. But her natural thirst to do good had led her astray. She only realized now, many, many years too late that she could never go back and redo it. If she had never come to the palace, it might not have happened, everyone she cared for might not have been dead. But they were, and it was late, much too late to redo it.
Chapter One
Three Years Ago:
Fifteen-year-old violet eyed Squire, Alan of Trebond sat on his bed, deep in thought. He had a secret, and one that he couldn’t keep forever, but he couldn’t think about that now. Right now he had more pressing matters.
A knock on the wooden door to his left brought him from his thoughts. Quickly, scrambling to his feet, and nearly falling over in the process, he made his way to the door and pulled it open.
Prince Jonathan of Conté smiled at him from the other side of the door. “Hello, Alanna,” he said softly, pressing his way into the room past his unwilling squire.
Her guise shattered, Alanna snapped the door shut and rounded on her knight-master. “Of all the times to come and bother me, you had to choose now, Jonathan of Conté, didn’t you? Now?”
Jon ran a hand through his thick black hair, his sapphire eyes shining with unshed tears. “I didn’t think you’d want to be alone. I’m sorry, Alanna. I thought you’d want someone to stay with you. I miss him too you know.”
That’s when her whole face and will shattered. Alanna let out a choked sob, and then flung herself against Jon’s chest, wrapping her arms around his back like a little child. But what was she to do? Her best friend besides the Prince himself was dead, and it was all her fault!
“Ssh.” Jon put his arms around her shoulders and whispered softly in her ear, resting his chin on her head. At first Alanna found it hard to lean on him, she didn’t get the feeling that he really cared. But then she felt warm tears begin to fall on her head, and knew that he was despairing the death of their friend as much as she.
The images flashed back to her, horrible and bloody. . .
“Run!” George bellowed over the crowd. But Alanna couldn’t leave him. She shoved her way through the crowd, pushing past all the people gathered to watch.
“Be quiet!” The Lord Provost snarled. He pushed George’s head down, nodding to executioner. “Let it be known, that George Cooper dies a thief. And not just a thief, but the King of Thieves. Let it be known that he dies a criminal.”
Then the sword had come down.
She felt herself choke a sob as his head rolled, and blood sprayed everywhere. Then the Lord had dropped the body, and George’s lifeless body crumpled onto the stage. Horror washed over her in a great bloody cloak.
“NO!”
“NO!” Alanna shoved back from Jon, pushing her back against the stone wall. Sweat covered her face, and her whole body was heaving as she breathed as though she had just run a thousand mile race. “NO!” Her throat hurt as she screamed, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself. Then the images came over her again. . .
George Cooper was seated atop his horse, and he and Alanna were riding down the country-side, talking merrily. It was one of Alanna’s days off, and she had come into the town with Gary and Raoul. But the two knights had quickly made their own plans at the Dancing Dove, and Alanna had followed George into the meadows for a ride.
“Ye kno’,” he said, “I wish ev’ry momen’ in life could be like this.” He waved a hand, indicating the green meadow and the blue sky above. “And ye.” He added. “Ye don’ look like ye did tha’ firs’ day I saw ye.”
Alanna offered an awkward smile. She didn’t like where this was going. “I know I don’t. I’m older now, and now I’m Squire Alan.”
“Nah, I don’ mean that.” George smiled. “I meant ye look like Alanna now, not a Page or a Squire.”
Alanna blushed. But he was still wrong. She couldn’t look like Alanna, or she would be caught. “Well, maybe I do, but we should be going back. Gary and Raoul can’t drink forever.”
George gave her a lopsided grin. “Sure they can.” But he turned his horse back to town nevertheless.
When they had arrived in town, there had been general pandemonium. But somehow it seemed different from all those days with their usual chaos of townlife. That’s when Alanna saw. Riding down the center of the street, carving a path with two sets of guards, was the Lord Provost, seated on a black stallion.
George swore, and turned his horse down a side street. Alanna kept riding forward, her eyes locked on the Lord Provost. Then his eyes turned and locked on hers, and he had turned through the crowd, right for her.
He pulled his stallion to halt before her. “Squire Alan?” he questioned. “What are you doing in the town?”
“I came with Sirs Gareth of Naxen the Younger and Raoul of Goldenlake.” Alanna shifted nervously in Moonlight’s saddle, running the reins anxiously through her fingers. Her horse sensed her discomfort and tossed her head, her silver mane flying.
“And who was that I just saw you with?” Lord Provost nodded towards the alley through which George had vanished.
“Just a friend from town.” Alanna sighed mentally, thankful she had thought of something so fast.
“I see.” He signaled for his men to look down the alley.
The suspense killed Alanna as she waited nervously for word from Lord Provost’s guards. At last they returned, George struggling between them. Her heart caught in her throat as she watched him struggle. But when their eyes met, he mouthed ‘go’.
Alanna shook her head ever so slightly, telling him that she wasn’t leaving him for anything. But all around her she was scared. The buildings seemed to lean in on either side, and Moonlight thrashed now, feeling the discomfort of her rider.
The Lord Provost hopped off his stallion. “George Cooper.” He smiled. “At last I have caught you. And that is odd, because you always elude us. What made it possible that we could catch you?” Without waiting for an answer, he had signaled for his guards to take George to the palace.
The next day at dawn had been the execution.
“Alanna, calm down.” Jon’s voice was soft, but stifled with his own tears.
“NO!” Alanna crumpled into a little heap on the floor. Tears ran freely down both her cheeks, and her shirt was soaking through. Why did she always have to cry in front of Jon?
Jon sat down next to her, and leaned against her, putting his arms around her head. He kissed her hair softly and pulled her towards him. “We all miss him. Nothing can erase our pain. But we’ve got to go ahead and move on!”
“No, no, no!” Alanna sobbed. She sniffed, leaning against his shirt. “You know that the Lord Provost c-could never e-ever c-catch George! You know there was something else behind his murder. And murder it was. We have to find out Jon. Please, help me. Please.” Alanna pulled back from him, and met his eyes. She pleaded him with her violet eyes sparkling from tears.
Jon stared at her for a long moment. Then he leaned in close, whispering in her ear, his face so close that his breathe tickled her ear. “I promise we’ll find out who’s behind George’s death. I’ll always be here for you, Alanna.”
Jon put his arms around her, and the two best friends sat there on the floor, torn to bits by George’s death, and both seeking comfort in the others arms. But little did either know that the death of a simple thief, even though he was their friend, would change more than they could ever imagine, and not in a good way.
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Posted: Sun Oct 15, 2006 9:48 am
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Here we have chapter two--enjoy:
Alanna stepped behind a bush, putting as much distance as possible between herself and the foul people who had ruined her life. They stood, calm, quiet, and uncaring as to all the death they had caused in the center of the courtyard, talking merrily and giving out toasts. It was Alanna’s job to kill them all, to avenge her fallen friends. And kill she would.
Chapter Two
Three Years Ago:
“ARGH!” Alanna slammed her fist into the stone wall, and instantly regretted it. The pain that went spiking through her hand made her want to cry all over again. “This can’t be happening!” she bellowed, rounding on Jonathan. “This cannot be happening!”
“I’m sorry!” Jon yelled, trying to get a word in edgeways over Alanna’s rapidly swelling rage. She turned to slam her fist into the wall again, but he grabbed her shoulders and spun her to face him. “Alanna, please, calm down. It’s just a ball!”
“And it’s happening right when Lord Provost is giving his speech about the towns criminals!” Alanna roared, fighting against Jon’s grip on her arms. “I want to know what he has to say!”
Jon kept his hands firm on her shoulders, and pushed her down onto the bed. “Please, I know it’s not the best of situations. But there is nothing we can do by not attending it, except get in trouble.”
“Lord Provost did this for a reason.” Alanna stopped fighting Jon’s grip on her as she began to think. “He didn’t want everyone from the palace to know what his claim on criminal ‘justice’ would be, did he? Did he?”
Jonathan thought about it for a moment, and then sunk onto the bed beside Alanna. “Maybe he didn’t,” he agreed, thoughtfully. “Maybe you’re right. It is possible that he didn’t want Father to know about his ideas for criminal justice.”
Alanna nodded, resting her tired body against Jon’s side. Absently he put his arms around her, leaning his head on top of hers. “But why?” she inquired softly. A yawn escaped her lips. “Why wouldn’t he want your father and the royal court to know about his ideas? Unless. . . unless they’re truly cruel and unfair.”
“Mmm.”
Alanna snuggled closer to Jon, enjoying the warmth that passed between them on the cold fall day. She pushed herself against his chest, curling up into a ball against him. He put his arms all the way around her, resting on her too.
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Alanna had just finished pulling on her nicest pair of boots when someone -- presumably Jon -- knocked on the door that separated her quarters from her Knight-Masters. She pulled the door open and grinned at Jon as he stepped through, dressed royally in a blue silk shirt, silk tunic, and silk breeches, topped off with a little crown.
“How do I look?” Jon asked.
“Silly,” Alanna replied, feeling that it was best to be honest. “How about me?”
“Squire Alan of Trebond at his best,” Jon answered.
Alanna nodded. “All right then, let’s go. The sooner we get this over with, the better, you got that?”
“Crystal.”
Squire and Knight-Master stepped out in the long corridor, and set off for the ballroom that King Roald had chosen for this ball.
Through most of the night Alanna refilled wine glasses and the snacks that they served at the tables dressed in long white cloths. But from time to time Jon would call her over to dance with some of the Convent girls who wanted to know Jonathan’s Squire. It was these times that annoyed Alanna beyond belief, because she felt as if Jon was trying to publicly humiliate her.
Near midnight the Alanna got a fifteen minute break from her duties, and she decided to take the time out in the garden, enjoying some fresh air. She walked out into the garden, taking in the fresh, crisp air of the autumn night. Glancing carefully around to make sure that no one was near, she knelt down to smell the roses, who were in the last of their season and would soon die for winter.
“Hello.”
Alanna spun around quickly, nearly toppling over in her awkward haste. But Jon caught her before she fell down. “W-What are you doing out here?” Alanna felt the blush creep into her face to have been caught doing something as ladylike as smelling the roses.
“I wanted a break,” he replied with a shrug. “It’s hot and stuffy in there, not like it is out here. Out here it’s cool and quiet. And I get the chance to talk to my Squire of course. Though, I hadn’t expected you’d get a break tonight.”
Alanna pushed a lock of flaming red hair back behind her ear and shrugged in reply. “I guess I got lucky to have a break. Is there something you’ve learned, say, about Lord Provost’s criminal ‘justice’ plans?”
Jon shook his head, taking a step nearer. His sapphire eyes glinted softly in the moonlight from the clear, star-speckled sky above. Alanna felt her stomach turning to knots, though she wasn’t sure why.
He reached down, touching her hair and pushing it away from her face. She shivered at his touch, not from the cold, but from the feel of his skin against hers. He leaned down, his face coming closer to hers.
Alanna could feel his breath against her face, she could smell the soap on his skin, the faint smell of roses about his hair. And then, his face was next to hers, and he leaned in a little more, his lips touching hers.
She leaned up into the kiss for a few seconds, his lips soft against hers, the knots in her stomach becoming the thrill of a swordfight that she wasn’t sure if she could win. Images of joy flashed in her mind as the kiss deepened. He put his hands in her hair, kissing her passionately.
She could feel her mind sidestepping a swing from a sword, and crashing down on her opponents as she swung around. Elation filled her as she crashed on her opponents sword over and over again. The joy was pure and true, and she felt other happy things happen. She put her arms around Jon as she felt herself falling into her happy fantasies, all triggered by one passion filled kiss.
Then something happened. She won her swordfight, and she looked to the side of the field, and there was George, clapping his hands together and giving her that lopsided grin. And her heart fell, as she realized she would never see him again. Then he came over and scooped her up in his arms, and she was kissing him.
“STOP!” Alanna pushed herself away from Jon, stumbling backwards in such a hurry that she fell over backwards, landing painfully on her backside. A sob escaped her as she glanced up at the moon. She bit down on her lip, trying to squash the image of herself and George together. How was she to manage?
“What?” Jon knelt down before her, looking worried that in some way he had hurt her more than mentally. “What’s wrong Alanna?” It surprised her how he could turn from the passionate Jon who had just kissed her, into Jon her friend so quickly.
“George.” Another sob escaped her eyes. “I saw George. H-He was t-there i-in m-my th-thoughts.” A sniffle came too, and then the tears fell freely, pouring down her cheeks and onto her tunic.
Jon put his arms around her, kissing her hair lightly, comforting her as she sobbed.
If only the one moment could last forever, but then they would be caught, and Alanna would be thrown out because she was a girl, and. . .
She stopped the images there. Pushing Jon away from her she stood up. She wiped the dried tears from her face, rubbing the tears from her cheeks and neck. Her eyes were swollen to the size of tomatoes, and she looked a mess, but she would have to bear her pain in silence, at least for the moment.
Squire and Knight-Master headed back into the ball, parting there ways at the door, pretending the kiss hadn’t just happened. But they couldn’t ignore it so easily, could they?
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Alanna was awoken by pounding on her door the next morning. Yawning and groping around for her breeches she sat up. She rubbed an anxious hand through her hair, and pulled her breeches on under her overlarge nightshirt. She grabbed the wrappings she used to hide her breasts and quickly wrapped them haphazardly under her shirt.
Running her hand a last time through her hair she stalked over to the door, trying, and failing, to stifle a gigantic yawn. She undid the bolts and pulled the door open, and was nearly plowed straight over by Gary.
He pushed into the room past her and started pacing back and forth.
“Gary, w-what’s w-w-wrong?” Alanna yawned twice, failing to suppress either one. She sunk onto the bed and started to pull her boots on over her breeches.
“I haven’t seen Jon since the ball last night,” Gary said, only half talking to Alanna. “And it’s nearly midday.”
Alanna shrugged, pulling her second boot on. “So?”
“I’m worried about where he’s gotten too. Have you seen him?”
Alanna glared at her friend. “You just woke me up, Gary. No, I haven’t seen him because I’ve been sleeping until now.” Her thoughts drifted for a moment and she remembered the kiss from last night, realizing that she wasn’t sure she wanted to see him.
“Do you mind?” Gary asked, pointing towards the door to Jonathan’s room.
“Not in the slightest.” Alanna shook her head.
Gary stomped over to the door and pounded his fist on it. “JONATHAN!” he bellowed. “If you’re in there, get out here this instant, I have GOT to talk to you!
The door opened and Jonathan poked his tired head out. His black hair was sticking up at odd angles from the way he had slept.
“Yes, Gary?” he asked, yawning.
“I need to talk to you, alone, now.”
Jon shook his head, “I’ve got company.”
Alanna’s heart fell. She’d met Jon’s ‘company’ before. They were usually girls from the Convent, bored and seeking something to do. He would take them in, make love to them, and let them go. If they returned, he would do it all over again, if not, he would forget about them and move on.
Without thinking about what she was doing, Alanna turned and ran, down the corridor. She didn’t know where she was going, but she was running as fast as she could. Then she stopped. She had nowhere to run. The only other person who knew she was a girl had been George, and now he was gone.
She had thought she’d meant something to Jon, the way he kissed her. But had she truly been just another one of the girls that he wanted to bed? Just someone to keep himself from getting bored?
Alanna felt the tears threaten to come again, and knew that there was only one person left to turn to. She took a left at the next corridor and started to jog towards them. She had no way of knowing that the further a secret spread, the more likely was its undoing.
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Posted: Sun Mar 25, 2007 5:46 pm
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