Alanna The First Adventure - By Tamora Pierce Page 0,18
doubled over, clutching his lower belly. She waited, legs braced, fists ready. “Take it back. Or I’ll stuff your mouth with dung—since you like it so much!”
Mercifully no one saw her when she returned. Alanna closed her door and bolted it, keeping her head down. Coram had her bath waiting.
“Mother of Darkness,” he whispered when he saw her. “What happened?”
She glanced at the mirror. Her uniform was a bloody, dirty mess. “I fell down.”
Coram forced her to look up at him. She flinched as he wiped her face with a wet cloth. His callused hands were surprisingly gentle. “It’s lyin’ ye are. Ye were in a fight.”
“I said I fell down.” She gasped as he touched her eye.
“Ah. The ground bloodied yer nose, split yer lip and punched ye in th’ eye, all to once. Would ye prefer to say ‘twas yer pony? Th’ others didn’t say ye were hurt, so ye must’ve—fallen—in th’ stables.”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” she said coldly.
He grinned. “I’m off t’ fetch some raw meat for yer eye where th’ ground hit ye. I’ll tell th’ lads ye’re ill.” He clapped her on the shoulder and added gruffly, “Ye’re a plucky lass. I’m proud of ye. And I think it’s time I gave ye a bit of help.”
She lay down after he left. Tears forced themselves from her eyes. This wouldn’t have happened to a real boy.
Someone tapped on the door. “Alan? It’s Raoul. Coram says you’re sick. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Can we come in?”
“No! Go away!”
“Alan—it’s Alex. What’s the matter?”
“There’s nothing the matter!” she yelled. “Just leave me alone!”
Brief silence.
“Alan. Open the door.” This was the Prince, and he was giving an order.
Slowly she obeyed. It was nearly dark—maybe they wouldn’t notice.
All her friends were standing outside. She looked at the floor. “I—I’m sorry I yelled. It’s just the heat, I guess—”
“Look at me,” Jonathan commanded.
That she would not do. He put cool fingers beneath her chin and lifted her face. She gave him look for look with her good eye, ignoring the gasps and murmurs of pity.
“What happened?” the Prince asked finally.
“I fell down, Highness. In the stables.” Now they all knew what a weakling she was.
Jonathan let her go. “I’ll make your excuses to Uncle Gareth. We’ll bring you something to eat later.”
“Thank you,” she whispered. “I’m not hungry.”
“Here, lads—what’s this?” Coram was returning with a slice of raw meat. “Alan had a bit of an accident, that’s all. Ye’d best be gettin’ to th’ tables—his Majesty’s about to start.”
The others hurried away. Jonathan hesitated. “I’ll be back,” he told Coram.
The man bowed. “Very good, yer Highness.”
That night the pages ate in silence. After dinner Jonathan and his friends went to Gary’s rooms.
“It was Ralon!” Raoul burst out when they were alone.
“He didn’t like what happened yesterday,” Francis pointed out.
“It’s time we dealt with him,” Alex added in his soft voice. “He forgets his place.”
“I’ll teach it to him,” Raoul growled.
“He forgot the lesson you taught him yesterday,” Gary reminded him.
Raoul smiled coldly. “This time I’ll make sure he knows what the lesson’s about.”
“You’re forgetting something.” They all looked at Jonathan. “Alan won’t admit Ralon hit him. He wants to fight Ralon himself.”
“He can’t,” Raoul protested. “He’s just a little guy. And he doesn’t know how to fight!”
“He’s got courage,” Alex said.
“Courage!” Raoul bellowed. “That coward almost kills him and—”
“Hush!” Jonathan ordered. “Listen. We must be sure. Gary—see if anyone at the stables knows what happened. Perhaps Alan will tell me something. And remember—we have to do it his way. He’d be ashamed if he thought we were fighting his battles.”
The others nodded agreement, and the group split up.
“How do you feel?” the Prince asked.
Alanna struggled to sit up. “Miserable, Highness,” she admitted.
“Poor little man. He really whipped you, didn’t he?”
“Nobody whipped me. I fell.”
He grinned. “Deny it all you want. We both know you had a fight with Ralon and you lost.”
She stuck her chin out stubbornly. “I fell. Your Highness.”
Jonathan patted her shoulder. “You’re pluck to the backbone, young Trebond. Get some sleep.”
Gary found Stefan immediately. The hostler nodded as the young nobleman climbed into his hayloft. “I thought perhaps one o’ ye would be comin’ around. What lie is Master Alan tellin’?”
Gary made a face. “He says he fell down.”
Stefan spat. “Oh, aye, he fell. O’ course, Master Ralon helped him fall, several times. Poor li’l tyke didn’t have a chance.” He chuckled. “But he got Master Malven a good ‘un in th’ nuts t’ start.”
“Why didn’t you stop