Lioness Rampant (29 page)

Instead of riding home or seeking out her friends, she and Faithful wandered idly through the maze of
the palace, thinking about the coronation. It was hard to believe only three weeks remained.

Their walk finally brought knight and cat to the Hall of Crowns. This room had one use: Tortallan sovereigns were consecrated to the realm there. At all other times it was closed, its windows covered by heavy velvet curtains.

They entered, smelling beeswax, spices, and incense. The servants had worked hard, cleaning the dust-covered draperies, polishing wood- and metalwork until it shone, scrubbing the many-paned windows. Tiny votive candles winked on the altar, where a Mithran priest and a Daughter of the Goddess would bind Jonathan to the crown and the land.

Her steps echoed to the ceiling as she walked around. Here were the wooden benches where the nobility sat. She climbed the stone risers that would seat the principal merchants, guildmasters, and their families until she reached the top. Here were the City Doors, the height of five men and the breadth of seven. These would be open during the coronation. All who could fit in behind the wealthy and powerful commoners would do so, relaying what happened inside to the less fortunate.

Once crowned, Jonathan would mount Darkness at the City Doors to ride down to his new capital. Alanna would stay a pace behind as he rode through the packed streets.

Thank the Goddess Moonlight isn't some skittish yearling and hard to control in a crowd,
she reflected.
Still, I can think of things I'd rather be doing that day.

She sat on a riser, almost on top of Faithful. “Oh, stop it,” she muttered when he yowled. “You aren't hurt.” Propping elbows on knees, she put her chin on her hands, staring at the distant altar. “I'm getting old,” she whispered. “I should be excited about the coronation. I wish I knew for certain he'd be safe.”

You wanted to be a hero,
Faithful said.
Heroes have responsibilities.

“I'm not sure I want to be a hero anymore,” Alanna sighed.

Then you are in trouble. That's the one thing you'll never be able to change.

“I know. I think about marrying, though, if I could do it and still see the world. It wouldn't be such a bad thing. Not if it was someone I liked
and
loved. Someone I could laugh with.”

You want to be warrior and woman. You want to
travel and serve Jonathan. Can't you make up your mind about what you want?
complained the cat.

“Who says I can't have a little bit of each?” she wanted to know. When she realized what she'd said, she began to grin. “That's right—why can't I? And I've done pretty well, I think!”

I suppose so,
he replied grudgingly.
For a person. Mind, be careful in your choices—particularly if you want to marry. You need somebody who isn't as noble-minded as you are. Otherwise you take yourself much too seriously. I won't always be around to correct you.

“I am
not
noble-minded!”

Yes you are. You hide it well, but not everyone knows you like I do. And you think you can solve all the world's ills. You need someone who will cheer you up when you can't.

Abruptly Alanna sneezed four times without stopping. She got to her feet, blinking teary eyes. Something took form before the altar, something with substance enough to obscure the votive candles. It was the Goddess, her white skin and emerald eyes gleaming in the dark. Impossibly tall, she smiled at Alanna.
Of course she's here,
Alanna thought, awed.
It's Beltane. Every couple tonight will ask her blessing on the summer crops. Then why has she come here?
I'm alone, without a lover, and I'm more worried about the coronation than the crops.

The gentle whisper nonetheless drove Alanna to her knees. It took all her willpower to keep her hands from her ears: That voice still embodied huntress and hounds and the storm. In the Hall of Crowns even the Goddess's whisper rolled like thunder. “We meet again, my daughter. You have traveled a long road since last we spoke. Surely you must be pleased, now. Your labors of all these years, here and in the Roof of the World, bear fruit. Your Jonathan is to be king. He will bear the Dominion Jewel.”

Alanna looked up eagerly. “Then he
will
be king? Please—can you give me a sign, some hint of what is to come? I sense trouble, but … and my brother. What's wrong with Thom?”

The Goddess shook her head. “I may not answer these questions. The gods cannot reveal all things; otherwise, where is men's right to choose their fates? Where is
your
right to choose?”

“I think I chose well,” Alanna said, getting to her feet. “How can I thank you for your favor?”

“Your life is my thanks. I have guided you as best I can, but the time for guidance is past. You are fully grown into all your powers, Alanna. The days to
come are what you make of them. The coronation is a crossroad in Time. Bend it to your will—if you have the courage!”

Alanna's blood thrilled to the challenge, but her common sense made her beg, “Just a
hint
?”

The Goddess shook her head, smiling with amusement. The air brightened. Alanna could see other figures before the altar. The shining warrior could only be Mithros, the divine protector. On the Goddess's other side, hooded and cloaked, waited her brother the Black God. Alanna knew him and bowed her greetings; the great head nodded in reply.

Behind them were ranged others, only some of whom she knew: the Crooked God, his smile as wicked as George's own; the Smith's God; the Sea Goddess. The array of immortals stretched on and on, but somehow she saw each face clearly. Awed and frightened, she covered her eyes like a Doi tribesman.

Slowly the glory faded. When she uncovered her eyes, she and Faithful were alone. She stayed where she was for a while, remembering what she had seen. At last she shook her head. “Ask a silly question.”

It always comes to this,
Faithful remarked.
A god can guide a mortal, nurture, teach. And yet there comes a moment when the god must stand away from the fosterling and let the inevitable happen.

“Why?” she asked, curious.

That's how the universe is fashioned,
Faithful replied.
There are moments when only a human can affect the outcome of events.

She picked him up, letting him perch under her left ear. “You mean they don't
know
what's going to happen?”

People like you are the fulcrums on which the future turns.
He gave her ear a nuzzle.
Don't mess it up. I have a reputation to maintain.

Leaving the Hall of Crowns, she was surprised to come face-to-face with Delia of Eldorne and Princess Josiane. Both wore plain dark gowns and veils over their hair. Plainly they were as surprised as she was.

Delia recovered quickly. “Well, if it isn't ‘Sir' Alanna,” she sneered, her green eyes glinting. “The Woman Who Rides Like a Man!”

Taking her cue from Delia's words, Alanna bowed as a man would. “Princess Josiane. Lady Delia.”

“I used to have to dance with her when
she
posed
as a
he
,” Delia told the tall blonde. “I
sensed
something was not right.”

“Funny,” Alanna said thoughtfully, “as
I
recall, you chased
me.
You made a point of flirting with me, because the men said I was a woman-hater, and you wanted to make me fall in love with you.”

“Liar!” Delia hissed.

Alanna shrugged. “As you like. I was taught not to question a
lady's
word.”

“I'm told you were Jonathan's lover once,” Josiane said abruptly, veiling her blue eyes with her lashes. “Is that why he made you Champion?”

Surprised by the attack from this unknown source, Alanna took a step back. She clenched her hands, her nails biting into newly formed scars, as she controlled her temper. “I'm told you replaced me in his affections—for a little while,” she replied sweetly. “Why didn't he make you Prime Minister?”

Josiane's beautiful face changed into an ugly mask. “No one gets the better of me,” she hissed.

“Did you plan to be King's Champion?” Alanna wanted to know. “You don't have the training.”

Delia gripped Josiane's arm; Alanna could see her blood-red nails digging into the princess's flesh. “I don't waste time in conversations with sluts, Josiane,”
she snapped. “Neither should you.” She literally dragged the princess away, quite a feat in so delicate-looking a woman.

“She could do harm,” Alanna told Liam and Myles later that night as they sat over brandy. Outside they could hear the sounds of the Beltane festival. “I'm no expert, but that Josiane is crazy!”

“There's bad blood in the Copper Isle kings,” Liam drawled, his eyes sleepy. “They birth a mad one every generation. Josiane's uncle is locked in a tower somewhere. It comes from being an island kingdom—too much inbreeding.”

“I think it might be a good idea if the Provost's spies kept an eye on her,” Alanna said frankly. “I don't trust her.”

“He has her watched,” Myles said reassuringly. “Any foreign noble is suspect at a time like this.”

Alanna fidgeted in her chair. “I wish the coronation was over. The waiting is getting on my nerves.”

“Once he's sealed to the crown and the land, he'll be hard to dislodge.” Liam yawned. “And if the Jewel's all it's supposed to be, so much the better.”

“In the meantime, we still can find no traces of a plot or plotters.” Myles sighed. “With people
starting to arrive for the ceremonies, it will be hard to spot fighters coming to take part in an overthrow.”

“George and I ride through the city every day,” Liam said unexpectedly. “The Lord Provost and Duke Gareth, too. Between the four of us, any group of warriors will be easy to spot. The Provost's men stand alert as well.” He noticed Alanna staring at him and grinned. “Did you think you could leave me out of your worries? I'm still your friend. I won't sit idling when there's a hint of a fight in the offing.”

Alanna smiled gratefully at the Dragon. “It
is
a weight off my mind, knowing you're keeping an eye on things, too.”

George glanced into the library. “Ah, here you all are. Myles, I've another visitor to cast upon your tender mercies.” He bowed gracefully, ushering the guest into the room.

“Master Si-cham!” Alanna cried, jumping up. The tiny old man in the orange worn by Mithran adepts smiled and held out gnarled hands for her to kiss.

“
And
Liam Ironarm,” he said, nodding cheerfully to the bowing Dragon. “What a pair of warriors to grace your house, Myles!”

Alanna looked from Si-cham to Liam to her father,
baffled. “You know Liam?” she asked. The redheaded man winked at her. “You know
Myles
?”