(no subject)
Fort Mastiff, Tortall, on the Scanran border
This was yet another of her dream visits to Tortall, Aly realized, coming from sleep to wakefulness in the air above a large, new, wooden fortress. It flew the flag of the realm of Tortall, a silver sword and a silver crown on a blue shield. Beneath it flew a scarlet flag with a golden cat rearing on it, the banner of the King’s Champion, Alanna the Lioness.
Aly could see her famous mother below, planted solidly at the center of a ring of onlookers. She was dueling with someone. From the fighters’ quilted tunics and absent helmets, Aly judged that this was a practice session, not a real fight, though both her mother and her opponent wielded live sword blades. There was a risk.
Aly drifted down, curious about who might be mad enough to take on her mother, even for practice. By the looks of things, Alanna was overmatched. Her opponent was nearly six feet tall, broad-shouldered, with muscled legs revealed by cotton breeches. Sweat-soaked brown hair, cut short at the nape of the neck and across the forehead, framed a face tanned in the sun, and brown-hazel eyes, a dreamer’s eyes, with ridiculously long lashes. Those eyes were steady as they watched the Lioness’s sword.
“Go, Kel!” someone yelled from the sidelines. “Youth and skill!”
“Age and treachery!” bellowed a large man on the far side of the ring. Aly knew him. Lord Raoul of Goldenlake and Malorie’s Peak was one of her adoptive uncles, a big man who kept a short, brown-skinned woman in the circle of his arm even as he urged his friend Alanna on. Aly recognized the brown woman as yet another of her adoptive aunts, Buri, married to Uncle Raoul less than a year.
“Youth and skill!” cried another man Aly knew well, Nealan of Queenscove, her mother’s former squire. “Don’t let that old lady cut you, Kel!”
“Whose side are you on?” Alanna demanded, her eyes flicking over to Neal. “You were my squire!”
Her opponent surged forward as the Lioness’s attention wavered, her blade slicing the air in an overhand swing. This had to be Keladry of Mindelan, Aly realized, fascinated. Since Aly had been eight or so her mother had spoken continually of Keladry, the first girl to go for her knighthood since Alanna. For a while Aly had been jealous of the girl, thinking her mother was more interested in Kel than she was in Aly. Only in the last few years had she realized her mother simply understood Kel better than she understood Aly.
Kel bore in on her smaller foe fast, but Alanna came up and under Kel’s attack, smacking the bigger woman hard in the ribs. “You’ve been using that pig-sticker of yours so much, you’ve forgotten how to wield your Griffin,” Alanna taunted. “You’ve gotten lazy!”
Griffin, Aly thought, then remembered. Mother said Kel had named the sword Alanna had given her Griffin.
Kel lunged in again, her sword blade tangling with the Lioness’s, until the two women were locked together, hilt to hilt. Now Kel brought her superior height and weight to bear, forcing the Lioness down and back. “Lazy, is it?” Keladry said, panting. “I’ll give you laziness, shorty.”
Alanna laughed and sprang free of the tangle, darting around to swat Keladry on the behind with the flat of her blade. “Age and treachery!” she taunted Kel.
Kel stood back and, gasping, saluted Alanna with her weapon. “I guess I need to work on my sword skill after all, Lioness,” she said, accepting someone’s water bottle. She nodded toward the gate. “I think we have company.”
A tall gray figure-Tkaa the basilisk-strode through the gate, holding his long tail off the ground as a lady would hold the train to her gown. From crown to tail he was covered in dust that turned his beaded gray skin to gray-brown.
“Tkaa,” cried Alanna, running to greet the newcomer. “Whatever brings you here?”
The basilisk bent his head so that he could whisper into her ear. Aly dropped down until she was close enough to hear him. “I bear news from your husband.” Tkaa’s voice was like the whisper of flutes. “He asks me to tell you that he’s got real word at last, from Rajmuat. You must not worry if he disappears for a time.”
Alanna seized the basilisk’s paw. Aly, looking around, saw that everyone else was keeping a respectful distance from the unlikely pair.
“Aly?” whispered Alanna. “He’s got word of her?”
Tkaa nodded.
Alanna turned and walked speedily back to her quarters, the men shifting out of her path. Like Aly, they knew the set look on Alanna’s face meant she didn’t want to talk to anyone.
“Please tell me you have good news.” Lord Raoul had walked over to greet the basilisk. “Whatever it is. She’s been as jumpy as a horse covered in ants all summer.”
“I sorrow to hear it,” said the basilisk. “I can tell you that diplomats from Scanra are in Corus to negotiate a peace treaty.”
His information was greeted with a shout from the people who had followed Raoul to say hello to the newcomer. Aly’s dream began to fade as men and boys ran to tell their fellows Tkaa’s news.