He walked out without looking at her.
Thayet came in a few minutes later with a pitcher of mulled cider. A maid followed with a tray of food, and Alanna’s stomach growled a welcome. Seeing tearstains on Alanna’s face, Thayet said, “The Dragon will be all right.” She poured a cup of cider and helped Alanna to drink it. “He was worried sick about you. We all were.”
“The Jewel?” Alanna didn’t want to talk about Liam. “Where is it?”
“Under your pillow. Can you manage a spoon?”
Alanna looked at a bowl of porridge dotted with dried fruit and cream. “I’ll manage if it kills me.”
Unfortunately, she couldn’t handle a spoon. Thayet fed her, ignoring Alanna’s protests. “You’ve been asleep almost a week,” the princess said. “The storm was over when we woke up. You were out there when it stopped?” Alanna nodded.
“There was a tremor of some kind—a little earthquake—just after dawn,” Thayet continued. “When it was over, the pass was clear. The innkeeper and some of the guests ran for a temple at that point, I think. You remember the Doi who were staying here? They went out and brought you down, slung over a pony. They said they found you in front of a cave near the top of the pass. You were a mess.”
“Can I talk to them?” Alanna wanted to know. “Thank them?”
Thayet shook her head. “They’re gone. They left when you started to get better. Buri says they don’t like to be thanked.”
“Did—the healers say how I am?”
Thayet put down the spoon. “You’ll have a scar from your neck to your abdomen, right between your breasts. Your hands will mend. They said you’d do better once you woke up and used your own Gift on them.” Reminded by this, Alanna felt for her magic and found it. Thayet began to tidy up, saying, “The Doi healer said your hands will always know when it’s going to storm.”
“‘Old swordsmen and their scars know the coming rain,’” Alanna quoted—it was a common saying. “I suppose I had to pay for this somehow.”
“Was it worth the price?”
“I don’t know.” Alanna drew the Jewel from beneath her pillow and looked at it. The gem fit neatly into the center of her palm. “Thayet, do you want this? For Sarain? It seems as if you need it more than Tortall does right now.” She offered it to the princess, who stepped back with an odd look on her face. The Jewel began to shimmer with an internal light, until Thayet pushed Alanna’s hand away.
“No female can hold the Saren throne.” Her voice was soft. “The Book of Glass forbids it. Children hear tales of other lands, less wise than ours, who came to grief because they let a woman rule. The chiefs of the Hau Ma, the Churi, and the Raadeh are women, but they’re K’mir, and everyone knows the K’mir are savages.”
“Tortall isn’t like the K’mir, but it isn’t that bad, either,” Alanna said. The bitterness in Thayet’s voice hurt.
“All my life I’ve been worthless, the one who should have been a male and an heir. My father was kind, in his way—I take after him in looks.” Thayet rubbed the arch of her nose. “But he never forgot I wasn’t a boy. Every morning the Daughters of the Goddess and the Mithran priests have orders to pray for a jin Wilima in their daybreak services.”
Alanna swallowed. If he’d loved his daughter, how could the Warlord have humiliated her like that? “Thayet, I’m sorry.”
The princess didn’t hear. “I’ll tell you something else, Lady Knight. In Tortall you lied about your sex and kept it secret for years, but when the truth came out, you were allowed to keep your shield. We heard about you at my father’s court. The majority opinion was that you should be burned, although one group held out for death by torture.” Thayet put the tray beside the door. “I thought Tortall sounded like Paradise. It’s certainly an improvement on my father’s palace or the convents, and it has to be better than what I’ll get if I return to Sarain now.”
“You didn’t have to tell me any of this.” Alanna slid the Jewel beneath her pillow again. “A simple ‘no’ would’ve worked.”
The princess’s face had been hard and distant. Slowly she brightened. “A ‘simple no’?” she repeated, amused. “Alanna, my very dear, you’re an incredibly high-minded person, have you noticed? You take duty and responsibility seriously. If you believed I turned my back on Sarain for a whim or a fit of temper, you’d lose any respect you have for me.” She put a hand on the knight’s shoulder. “Before I met you, I thought the women of our class were useless. Those who go to Shang are commoners. Noble families chain their daughters in their rooms rather than permit them that life. The K’mir have no one of noble blood, only people who earn their honors. But you and I come from overbred families, good as ornaments and nothing more. And you are far from useless.”
Alanna blushed. “Thayet, you’re flattering me. It was easier for me to rebel than stay and make something of myself. Why didn’t I go to convent school and prove ladies are more than ornaments that way?”
Thayet’s look was skeptical. “What I’m trying to say is that I look forward to creating my own life. In Tortall I can, because I’ll be without rank or title.” She sat on the bed. “I’m going to start a school for the children of commoners. Once I sell my jewels, I’ll have plenty of money to do so.”
Alanna, who had different plans for Thayet, said hastily, “I won’t cast you adrift when we’re there! You’ll be our guest—Thom’s and Myles’s and mine. The school’s a grand idea, but there are ways and ways to start one.”
Thayet shrugged. “Look at me, rattling on when you just woke up.” Firmly, she tucked blankets around Alanna. “Try to sleep some more.” She left, carrying the tray.
Sleep was the last thing Alanna wanted. She’d had a week of it. With an effort she threw off her blankets and stood. Leaning against a bedpost for support, she took inventory: twisted leg—stiff but painless; assorted bruises—fine; gash on her chest and bitten lip—cleanly healed; eyes—teary but working; hands—she didn’t want to think about her hands. Not bad, considering.
She dressed in garments that could be pulled on. Buttons and buckles were more than she could handle. She tucked her feet into slippers and clumsily ran a brush through her hair. Keeping a watch for well-meaning persons who might shoo her back to her room, she escaped to the stables.
The stableboy ran when he saw her, which was convenient. There are times in every rider’s life when it is necessary to apologize to a horse, but Alanna preferred not to have witnesses. It was too embarrassing. Moonlight tried to stay aloof as her knight-mistress entered her stall. Alanna offered an apple stolen from the common room, stroking the mare and whispering compliments. Soon Moonlight was nudging and nuzzling, plainly checking Alanna’s hooves, withers, and flanks. The salve on Alanna’s bandages made the mare sneeze.
“I wish Liam forgave this easily,” sighed Alanna. She looked up to see Faithful sitting on the gate. “Are you angry too?”
I know why you went. Moonlight and the others were worried, the cat said. I’ve been staying here since the Dragon woke and found you gone. Horses are calmer people. They also don’t throw things at cats. He climbed onto her shoulder, draping himself around Alanna’s neck.
“Poor Faithful. He didn’t really throw things, did he?”
Only when he saw me.
Someone coughed. Coram had been grooming Anvil. Now he leaned against the bay’s stall, watching.
“Are you going to yell at me, too?” Alanna asked warily.