Alanna The First Adventure - By Tamora Pierce Page 0,33
entered Duke Roger’s study. The Duke of Conté was lazing in a tall-backed chair, turning a jeweled wizard’s rod between his fingers. He glimmered in a many-colored tunic and red-purple hose; if Alanna admired anything about him, it was Roger’s taste in clothes.
He smiled. “Alan of Trebond.” He gestured to the chair facing his desk. “Please, have a seat.”
Alanna sat carefully, folding her hands in her lap. Every nerve in her body was on the alert. She hadn’t gotten this far to be caught
“I understand you used your Gift to heal my cousin of the Sweating Sickness.”
“Sir Myles directed me, sir.”
“It must have required a good deal of power on your part, though. You took a great risk.”
“My village healing woman had trained me, sir. And I was exhausted for days after.” She watched his face. He seemed to accept that Myles had done the thinking and she had supplied the power, so Myles hadn’t talked about that night. She liked that.
“Well, at least I don’t have to ask you any useless questions. We already know you have the Gift, and in abundance. And you learned from your village healing woman?”
“Yes, sir. My father didn’t know we were trained, though. He didn’t want us learning any sorcery—he’d throw a fit if he thought I was learning it here.”
“Then we won’t tell him. You say ‘we.’ Tell me about your brother. I understand you’re twins?” Roger’s bright eyes never left hers. Alanna frowned and rubbed her forehead. Suddenly she had a headache.
“He’s in the City of the Gods, sir. Father sent him to be a priest, but I think he plans to take up sorcery.”
Roger smiled. “A noteworthy ambition. What is his name?”
“Thom, sir.” Why was he staring at her so?
The man looked at the jeweled rod in his hands. “My cousin speaks highly of you, Alan of Trebond.”
“We’re friends, your Grace.” She discovered she couldn’t look away from him.
“My uncle-in-law, Duke Gareth, also speaks highly of you. You are a most worthy young man by all accounts.”
Alanna blushed with shame. If they knew the truth, they wouldn’t speak well of her. “Your Grace is very kind.” She wished he would let her go. She had never had such a fierce headache.
Roger sighed. Suddenly Alanna could look away from him, and the pain in her head lessened. “I am not often kind, Alan.” He tapped his rod against his hand for a moment. Finally he said, “I think I learned what I needed to. Report to me in my solarium Monday after breakfast. You may go.”
Alanna bowed and left gratefully, her head still pounding. She felt exhausted and a little nauseous. Coram appeared at her side, a worried frown on his face.
“Well?” he demanded.
Alanna didn’t ask how he knew. It was almost impossible to keep anything from the palace servants.
She rubbed her temples. “Maybe I’m crazy—but why do I feel like more went on in there than just his asking me questions?”
“Because maybe it did.” Coram pulled her into an empty room. “I heard the Duke of Conté can catch yer will and make it his own,” the man whispered. “They say he’ll reach into yer mind, make ye say what he wants t’ hear—unless ye’re defended. Unless there’s a wall in ye he can’t reach over.”
“Well, I don’t know that kind of magic,” she snapped, the headache making her cross. “But he didn’t learn anything from me I didn’t want to tell him. I’m sure of it.”
“Then yer magic’s stronger than his,” Coram said. “Or ye’re protected by the gods.”
This was too much for Alanna. She laughed and gave Coram a shove. “You’ve been nipping at Cook’s wine! Protection from the gods! Making me say what I don’t want to say! Go on with you!”
Coram opened the door. “Laugh if ye want.” He shrugged. “I’m only an ignorant old freeman, listenin’ to stories by the fire. But if it’s all so funny, why do ye look as if someone pulled ye through a currycomb?”
There was no answer to that, and Alanna didn’t even try to invent one.
One fall evening Stefan the hostler gave her a note.
“You’ve been looking for a horse,” it read. “I have one. Come to the city first chance you get. George.”
A horse! A real horse, the kind of horse a warrior ought to have! Alanna scribbled sums on a sheet of paper. After careful figuring she decided she could buy a horse—if it was the right horse. Wistfully she said farewell to sweets for a long