Lioness Rampant (5 page)

Alanna's left arm stung. She reversed Lightning in a crescent, killing the man who'd wounded her. She was bleeding, but she didn't dare stop to bind the cut.

Faithful launched himself again, yowling fiercely. Coram shouted and was down, bleeding from the thigh. Alanna swung to stand over him, her brain coldly taking charge. Later she'd remember that sweat stung in her eyes, that her arm hurt, that she was scared for Coram. Now she blocked and cut like a machine, looking everywhere at once.

For a moment Lightning was caught under an ax blade. Trying to free her sword, Alanna was knocked down by a staff. Cursing, she rolled to her feet. Before she had her balance, two thieves leaped on her, forcing her down.

One gripped her arms, yanking them behind her back. Alanna bit her lip to keep from screaming. She'd always been afraid this would happen. Disarmed, in the clutch of a stronger opponent, she was trapped. The second rogue grinned at her, reaching for her tunic.

The street echoed with an animal roar. Something shot into the man in front of Alanna: He rammed into a nearby wall and was still. Liam hit the ground on both feet, spun and kicked back into an attacker. The man seemed to leap backward, sprawling yards away. The Dragon shifted, his leg furling up and out, streaking toward Alanna. She froze, and Liam's kick struck the man gripping her. She was free.

Liam grinned, then whirled to face the last killers. They fought and died, the street echoing with the Dragon's cry. Alanna's hands worked as she watched, cutting up her tunic for a bandage. Kneeling by Coram, she examined his bleeding thigh.

“It's not bad,” Coram assured her through clenched teeth. “I've had worse. He's a sight, isn't he?”

Alanna nodded as she tied the bandage over the wound, pressing to stop the bleeding. The stories she'd heard about Shang came nowhere near the truth. The Dragon went from blow to kick in a blur. When he struck a man, that man went down and stayed down.

“Ye're bleedin',” Coram rasped, holding her arm. “Ye must have it seen to.”

Alanna barely heard him. Awed by Liam, she whispered, “I'll never be that good.”

Coram snorted. “I've news for your ladyship.” He sat up, replacing her hands on the bandage with one of his own. “Ye're just as quick, with a sword in yer hand.”

Silence returned. Those of their attackers who were able had fled. The ones who remained were either too badly hurt to run or were dead.

The Dragon came to Alanna and Coram, examining a tear in his sleeve. “You're all right?” He looked worriedly at Alanna, who was beginning to feel dizzy and a little sick. Coram reached up, and Liam helped him to his feet. “I was coming back from the home of a friend, and I heard the noise. Don't you know enough to stay out of trouble?”

Faithful came out of the shadows, his tail switching irritably.
We do, the man and I. She doesn't.

Liam glanced down at the cat, frowning. “Did …? No.” He caught Alanna as she faltered and dropped in a faint.

“It didn't look like a bad wound,” Coram said, taking Alanna's left hand and examining the cut running across her forearm. Then he swore, seeing the wound reached up the back of her arm to the shoulder. Alanna's shirtsleeve was thick with blood. “I'll tear a bandage,” he ordered Liam, pulling off his tunic. “We'd best take her to the inn fast—Windfeld can fetch a healer.” Quickly he reduced the garment to strips and formed a bandage for the knight's arm. Once it was in place, he set off down the street.

“Does she often do this?” the Dragon asked, following with Alanna.

“She's worn herself out other ways before this, silly lass. She's quick t'tell ye when to stop, but she never thinks maybe she should listen to her own advice.”

When they reached the Wandering Bard, Windfeld took over. In the space of a few minutes a healer was seeing to Alanna while another stitched Coram's thigh. Liam went to the kitchen and returned with a mug of tea for Coram. The man-at-arms took one sniff and coughed.

“What've I ever done to ye?” he demanded.

Liam grinned. “It smells better than it tastes. Drink it—I've had to myself. Shang taught us all manner of herb-lore, in case we get caught with no healer near.”

Coram shrugged and obeyed, choking as the stuff went down. He felt better almost immediately. “Whatever it is, it works. I don't
want
t'know what it is,” he said quickly when Liam opened his mouth.

“It's only herbs. Your lady gets the same, when she wakes up. Now—who were those men?”

“Messengers, of a kind. From an enemy of—of a friend of hers.” Coram blushed. Liam raised an eyebrow, but the older man shook his head. He was
not
going to tell an almost-stranger, not even this one, the whole truth. “Someone who knew that if she was killed, it'd hurt Cooper—her friend.”

Liam yawned and stretched. Coram was envious. The redheaded man looked as if he'd been exercising hard, not fighting. “Well, this Cooper's unhurt, and the two of you will heal.”

Coram got up stiffly and offered Liam his hand. “We owe ye our lives. We won't forget.”

Liam returned his grip. “You'd've managed, I think. I just speeded things along.”

2

THE ROAD EAST

S
HE SUPPOSED SHE WAS SLEEPING
. H
ER TWIN BROTHER
,
the sorcerer Thom, stood before a tomb with his hands upraised. His Gift, violet-colored like her own, glittered around him. Thom was pale, sick-looking. The door to the tomb began to open.

Thom looked at her. “I don't have enough power to shut it. I need your Gift. And I need that.” He reached for the ember-stone at her throat. She clung to it. “No, Thom! The Goddess gave it to me. I'll never take it off!”

“Calm down.” The voice was male, warm. “Keep your trinket.”

She dreamed again. George Cooper sat at Myles's desk, staring moodily at a painting. With surprise she saw it was a miniature of her in gold-washed chain mail, her lioness shield at her feet. Did he have it painted from his description of her?

There were silver threads in his dark hair. “But you aren't even thirty!” she protested.

He didn't hear. “Who will you be, my darlin'?” he asked the painting.

The door flew open. Jonathan entered, looking as if he had been in a fight. “I hear the Earth cracking,” he whispered.

Her eyes flew open. “Coram!” she yelled, scared because she felt so weak. She was in bed.

“He's sleeping.” Liam stood beside her, a steaming mug in his hands. “He didn't lose as much blood as you, but he still tires fast.”

Alanna sat up. Outside rain fell; somewhere closer a fire crackled. If only her head would stop spinning! “How'd you get to be assistant nurse?”

He winked at her. “Coram trusts me. Don't you?”

In spite of herself, Alanna smiled. “Not a bit.”

Liam shook his head. “So young, and so cynical. Drink this.”

Coram would have warned her about the brew,
had he been there. As it was, she took a good swallow before she even noticed the smell. It was nasty, bitter stuff with herbs in it. Her stomach tried to heave. With an act of will Alanna made it stay put. Closing her eyes, she went back to sleep.

Liam was by the fire when she woke again. Faithful curled beside him, purring—the big man plainly had the cat's approval. The scent of meat cooking rose from downstairs, making Alanna's mouth water. She was hungry!

Liam smiled. “About time.” He gave her another mug of tea, one that smelled far better than the last. “Sit up and try this. If it stays down, you can eat.”

Alanna obeyed, still amazed that the Shang Dragon should have an interest in her. His tea tasted of cinnamon and oranges.

His eyes held hers until she blushed. Lifting her hand, he kissed it—his lips were warm.
This gets more interesting all the time!
she thought.

“Enough of that.” It was Coram, bearing a heavily laden tray. “If ye're not embarrassin' each other, ye might think of
my
tender feelin's.”

Liam helped with the tray. “
Your
tender feelings?” he joked. “You haven't any.”

Alanna watched as they set out the food. Clearly they'd become friends, which was good if Liam pursued her (as he clearly meant to). Coram was difficult if he didn't approve of her romances. His feelings had made for an uncomfortable week in George's Port Caynn house, until the two men came to a truce (it helped that Coram had fallen in love with George's cousin Rispah).

She watched the Dragon, remembering what she'd seen of his fighting.
What was he like with sword or ax? If he was as fast with weapons as he was unarmed, he'd be almost unstoppable. She was good with sword and ax and bow, but take away her weapons and she was in trouble.

How can he want me?
she asked herself, puzzled.
He could have any woman—why pick one who's not even very feminine?
She took the tray he gave her, blushing when their hands touched.
Well, that's part of it,
she thought as she spooned up soup.
Sheer physical attraction.

Once the servants cleared the dishes, the three settled back to talk. “Coram showed me your map,” Liam informed her. “He tells me you're bound for the Roof of the World.”

“Coram's been very talkative,” she said dryly.

The older man flushed. “Liam's been about these parts a bit, Miss. If he can advise us on the road to take, so much the better!”

Alanna turned to Liam. “Well?”

“You should avoid Sarain.”

“Is their civil war so bad?”

Peeling an orange, he nodded. “Do you know
anything
about the Saren?”

“Some,” she replied, bristling at the hint she was ignorant. “I had an
excellent
education.”

He looked doubtful. “Nobles rarely know as much as they think they do—not about the real world. Who rules Sarain?”

Alanna scowled. She had not thought Liam might have a side she
didn't
like, but this older-and-wiser-head approach got under her skin. “The
jin
Wilima—their title is warlord, not king. The current one is—uhm—Adigun, the third
jin
Wilima ruler. Two years ago rebels tried to overthrow him and crown Dusan
zhir
Anduo in his place.
Zhir
Anduo's descended from their former kings, the
zhirit
Kaufain.”

Coram gave the Dragon an elbow in the ribs. “So there.”

“You
are
educated,” chuckled Liam.

Alanna glared at both men. “My adoptive father keeps up with things. He says
zhir
Anduo's rebels won't unseat their Warlord.”

“That was true once.” Liam poked the fire and added another log. “
Jin
Wilima bought mercenaries last spring. They destroyed towns, crops—people.” His eyes turned icy green. “The K'mir rebelled against both sides.”

“The K'mir are tribesmen, like our Bazhir,” explained Coram.

“Jin
Wilima married one—her name was Kalasin.” Liam scratched Faithful's upturned chin. “The most beautiful woman in the world.”

“What happened to her?” Alanna sat up, hugging her knees, intrigued by this glimpse of an alien society.

Liam shook his head. It was Coram who answered quietly, “Killed herself last summer. Her daughter Thayet's as lovely as she was, they say.”

“But Thayet isn't the heir,” Liam said. “The throne's up for whoever can take it, and the K'mir promise to fight the winner.”

Alanna thought it over. “Can we avoid passing through Sarain?”

“Get a boat out of Fortress Jirokan at the border,”
Liam told her. “Take it down the Shappa, then a coastal runner to Udayapur—”

Alanna blanched. “No boats!” The handful of times she'd been in one, she had been disgracefully sick.