(no subject)

[the_lioness]

Almost a week later, they rode south again, each leading a pack horse. They traveled quietly, smiling at each other every now and then. It pleased Alanna that she didn’t feel a need to entertain Peter or fill up the silence with incessant chatter. Instead, she bit her lip and let her eyes roam the countryside. If they were going to be attacked, it would happen swiftly, and it would happen soon.

Around noon, she abandoned her lower lip in favor of her thumb and thought back over the last few days. Coram had supplied them with plenty of food and wine before seeing them off. She had hugged him quickly, told him to say hello to Rispah when he returned to the city and sighed as they left Trebond behind.

When they reached Barony Olau, Alanna had no idea whether or not Myles was in residence. For all she knew, her adopted father was in Corus with Eleni. Cringing, she dismounted and considered that conversely, George’s mother might be here. Alanna screwed up her nose and stopped breathing, imagining the myriad ways this could go badly. Her face turned bright red. Worried, Peter hopped off Moonlight without even batting an eyelash at the distance to the ground and made Alanna look at him.

Perhaps things might have gone differently had Myles chosen a different moment to investigate the sudden noise in his normally quiet corner of Tortall. Perhaps not. As it happened, Myles hailed his visitors and immediately noticed the concern in Peter’s eyes. It was that, much more so than Alanna’s assurances that she knew what she was doing, that later soothed the worries that arose when he remembered the daughter of his heart had chosen someone other than George.

Much to her surprise, they seemed to get along well enough despite a palpable tension. Myles approached Peter much as he would a young page, instinctively trying to set him at ease. After imbibing several glasses of strong Olau wine, Alanna tilted her head and realized with chagrin that the tension might be of her own making. Swallowing, she followed them into Myles’ cozy study and tried not to let her mind wander as they discussed history and war. Peter’s story (they told Myles the whole truth as Alanna would have it no other way) fascinated Myles, and he questioned him thoroughly on the world as he saw it. Later, Peter sensed that they needed time alone and retired, leaving the two knights to stare at each other for quite some time before the tears, explanations and hugs flowed freely.

Smiling now, Alanna sighed and silently thanked Thom for pushing her to talk to Myles. It was silly to avoid someone you loved and who loved you back simply because you feared disappointing him. Plus, she was no coward, she reminded herself. Urging the gelding into a trot, she moved up beside Peter and started to ask him a question when something, a mere hint of a shadow on the road ahead, caught her eye.

She should have known Alden’s men would choose a spot like this. Forest lined either side of the road where it dipped briefly and rose again over a small hill. Immediately springing into action, she held a finger to her lips and jerked Moonlight’s reins. The mare understood, following as Alanna maneuvered the gelding off the path and plunged into the woods. Peter was in no mood for questions; he had seen the look in her eye and was smart enough to know that his life might very well depend on staying quiet.

Alanna pulled up, hurriedly reaching over and drawing his sword for him. “Take this, and go. They are waiting just over that rise. Stick to the trees, Peter, whatever you do. Weave in and out. You will present a harder target that way. Don’t try to help me if it comes to that, alright? Just stay alive.”

Whirling around, she took off through the trees back toward the road, following her own advice and racing around tree trunks in a way that made him dizzy to watch. His nostrils flared, and Peter nodded. Trusting Moonlight to keep her footing, he took a deep breath and tapped his heels against her sides, his stomach lurching slightly at the thought of what awaited them.

Meanwhile, Alanna rode along the road at a sedate pace, singing horribly at the top of her lungs. Only when she reached the bottom of the hill did she turn toward the woods on the opposite side of the road. She ducked in and around low hanging branches, silently praying to the Goddess that they would both live to see nightfall. Once she decided she had gone far enough, she took a second to select a tree, slapped the gelding’s rump and shimmied up the trunk in record time. The horse whinnied and cantered off. Alanna hovered high in the branches like a grimly determined bird of prey, sword and daggers at the ready.

She didn’t need to wait long.

Three dirty, sneering men stalked forward, leaves crunching under their feet as they combed the forest. They weren’t overly concerned with stealth. After all, they had nothing to fear from a woman, ballads or no ballads. These particular ruffians had seen her from a distance, and she was certainly not ten feet tall. Thus, they were rather surprised when a five foot three female dropped down in front of them, her sword swinging in a vicious downward arc before she even hit the ground.

Alanna attacked furiously, her eyes cold and deadly. A huge hulk of a man hovered nearby with daggers spinning in a way designed to intimidate. Alanna held another slender lad off with her sword and watched the knives for a moment. The giant gasped in surprise and dropped the daggers when he suddenly found hers protruding from his chest cavity. At a loss, he sank to his knees, allowing Alanna to concentrate on the man with the sword. He moved wildly and quickly. They battled back and forth, using the tree trunks to rebound and throw each other off guard. She waited for him to trip himself up.

The third man simply watched, his hands clasped behind his back as though he struggled against the urge to reach out and handle things himself. Annoyed, Alanna felt her gaze drifting to him and narrowly avoided being stabbed in the thigh. A sharp call echoed through the forest, and she felt her blood run cold. “There was another. Find him. Leave her for me.”

She gritted her teeth and resisted the urge to wipe at the sweat beading on her forehead as she turned. The first man bowed and ran toward the road. Whispering another prayer for Peter, she circled her new opponent. He seemed familiar, but it was hard to tell under the layers of road dust and other grime. Perhaps if she hadn’t been so focused on his sword, the bow and the voice would have registered. He smiled wolfishly, drawing his sword and attacking with a vengeance that somehow stunk of misplaced pride and indignation.

The clash of their swords and the occasional grunt echoed through the small clearing as they went at each other with nearly unbreakable concentration. Keeping her footing, dodging blows and searching for weaknesses all took precedence over her concern for Peter; she would be of no use to him dead. Just as the sweat began to roll toward her eyes, she saw her opening. Growling, she surged forward and snaked her blade around his, sending it flying. Eyes wide, he stared at her in horror. Alanna had no time to waste. She whacked him over the head with her sword hilt and used her Gift to ensure he stayed that way until she was ready for him to answer questions.

Heart pounding, she ran toward the road, sword at the ready. She heard metal striking metal off to the left and winced. Damn Alden, damn his men and damn her own selfish hide for bringing Peter here. With a roar, she tore through the underbrush and stopped short when she saw the two men several yards away. She rubbed her eyes with her free hand, not quite sure she was seeing correctly.

Peter held his sword against his attacker’s throat.

He looked up, his eyes slightly wild and dazed like he was having trouble remembering the last few minutes. "Now what?” His voice quavered, and he frowned. For just a moment, he had considered driving the blade home, and he hated himself for it.

“You… you can back off, Peter.” He did so, and Alanna’s sword took up residence at the man’s throat. He glared at her. “Goddess knows you deserve worse.” With that, she knocked him out and turned to face Peter.

“I’m sorry. I’m so damn sorry. I never should have dragged you here, in the midst of all this. I knew better.” Biting her lip, she sheathed her sword and hugged him tightly, telling him without words how very thankful she was that he was still alive.

“I almost killed him,” Peter said quietly.

“Self defense, Peter. You would have been well within your rights if you had. You aren’t experienced with this sort of thing. Do you think he planned on letting you live? No.You are not a monster for fighting to survive.” She blew out a breath and glanced at the fallen assailant. “I guess that training paid off. I’m proud of you."

It was only later, after they had tied the three men to their horses and were on their way back to Corus, that he realized he was proud of himself too. He smiled.

It was only later that Alanna, pondering the attack in her mind, realized the third man wasn’t just another ruffian. He was Alden. She had been right in assuming he wouldn’t be able to resist killing her himself. Grinning, she fell back to study his mostly recumbent figure and imagined the look on Jon’s face when they strode through the council chamber doors and announced that Alden was in the custody of the King’s Own.

It had been a good trip.