Alanna The First Adventure - By Tamora Pierce Page 0,38
it, like me. I never knew aught else, and I never wanted to. Now, some—some never learn the sword at all, and they don’t survive their first real fight. And then there’s some—”
“Yes?” Alanna asked, grasping at this straw. She was obviously not born to the sword, and she had no plans for dying in her first fight.
“Some learn the sword. They work all the extra minutes they have. They don’t let a piece of metal—or Aram Sklaw—beat them.”
Alanna stared at the forest and thought this over. “It’s possible to learn to be natural?”
“It’s just as possible as it is for a lass t’ learn t’ beat a lad, and the lad bigger and older than she is, and in a fair fight. Well—ye fought fair.”
It had taken weeks of training in secret to beat Ralon. The long hours, the bruises and her constant exhaustion were fresh in her mind. But it was worth it, Alanna thought. More than worth it.
She stretched, yawning widely. “Can I borrow your sword?”
Coram looked at the weapon hanging from his belt. “This? It’s bigger than ye are!”
“Exactly.”
Coram stared at her for a moment, then slowly unbuckled his belt. He handed the sword to Alanna, his face expressionless.
Alanna hefted the weapon in her hand. It was the largest, heaviest sword she had ever handled. It would be work to wield it with only one hand. “Thanks. I’ll return it later.”
She trotted off to find an empty practice room with plenty of mirrors. Coram was right. A sword could not beat her—and neither could Aram Sklaw.
six
Womanhood
It was the fifth of May. Alanna awoke at dawn, ready for another session with Coram’s big sword. She got out of bed—and gasped in horror to find her thighs and sheets smeared with blood. She washed herself in a panic and bundled the sheets down the privy. What was going on? She was bleeding, and she had to see a healer; but who? She couldn’t trust the palace healers. They were men and the bleeding came from a secret place between her legs. Hunting frantically, she found some bandage and used it to stop the red flow. Her hands shook. Her whole body was icy with fear. The servants would be coming to wake the pages soon. She had to do something in a hurry!
She gnawed her thumb until it bled. Coram was on guard duty. Besides—she couldn’t tell him. This wasn’t something she could confide to the old soldier.
She could trust only one person to help and keep quiet There were those who might wonder just how trustworthy the King of Thieves could be—Alanna wasn’t one of them.
With no time to waste, she couldn’t afford to sneak from the palace and run all the way to the city. She would have to ride and take the consequences. A quick word to Stefan, and Moonlight was saddled. The hostler even lured a guard away from one of the smaller gates. Alanna rode out for the city at a full gallop. Within minutes she was hitching her mare to a post behind the Dancing Dove.
Swiftly she clambered onto the kitchen roof and pried one of George’s shutters open. George himself had taught her how to make a second-story entry. When Alanna slid into the man’s room, she was seized from behind. A very sharp knife pressed against her throat
“Didn’t your mother ever teach you to enter by way of the door?” a voice drawled softly.
Alanna held very still. That knife was no joke. “George—it’s me! Alan!”
The man let her go and made her face him. He wasn’t dressed—he always slept bare. “So it is.” He put his knife on the table. A smile lit his eyes. “And what makes a noble sprout break into the Rogue’s bedroom?”
“I need your help.” She twisted her hands together. “I’ve got to see a healing woman right away.”
“A healin’ woman, is it? You’ll have to give me more than that, lad.” George crossed his arms over his chest, waiting. He had always known there was a secret to Alan. “Why a woman? And why a city healer? The best in the land are at the palace.”
Alanna swallowed hard. “I’m not a boy.” It was incredibly hard to say. “I’m a girl.”
“You’re a—you’re a what!” George yelled.
“Hush! D’you want everyone to hear?” She scuffed her boot against the floor. “I thought you’d guess. You have the Gift.”
“And your Gift shields you. Alan, if this is a jest, it’s a poor time for one.”
She glared at him.