Sweet Bloody Soul

I have no idea where I got the title…

A/N: Thanks to all my faithful reviewers! *lol* This one will be longer than chapter 2, I hope. I know I kind of cut it short, but I had to leave right then, so I posted it and ran off. J Neway, I'm trying, reeeeeeeeeally hard to create a Tortallan RPG! (Geocities….HTML style!) If you have any suggestions for me (besides the usual…the debates, forums, and all) then em@il me at either [email protected] OR [email protected] with all your ideas. I'd love to hear them!

Disclaimer: Blah blah blah blah blah don't own anything blah blah blah blah blah….

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Alanna glared ahead, her jaw set as the gates opened. Her hands had been released a moment ago, only to be chained to the saddle, but she was now so heavily guarded she couldn't think to herself without seeing the barbarians looking expectantly at her, as if she was going to burst into tears.

"Gods!" She hissed in frustration as her view was blocked. "Can you MOVE? I can't even see where I'm going!" They grinned at each other infuriatingly, and Alanna gritted her teeth to keep from screaming. That damned Raoul! He had had no right to have spoken to her like that, none at all! And yet-

"Move along there, now," barked the captain, prodding her mount along. You're wasting our time!"

"If your time is being wasted," she replied sweetly, "then it's entirely your problem, not mine. You chose to come this way."

A whip cracked across her cheek, leaving a thin, angry red line. Alanna gasped and tried to put her hand to it, only to remember her hands were tied down. Her cheek stung, and it felt as if someone had scorched it with fire. Her eyes flashing, she glared at the captain, who growled, "None of your talk. We don't have time for it. Speed up, unless you want another taste of my little toy---" he rapped it in his hand threateningly.

Having no choice, Alanna stuck her nose in the air and held her head higher than was necessary, a gesture of defiance. They had now reached the palace square, where it seemed all of Tortall was gathered. Drums beat in a steady rhythm, and Tortallan flags hung limply, as if they, too, were disappointed in the lady knight.

The line of Scanrans stopped in the center of the square, and Alanna thought she caught a glimpse of Jonathan and Thayet out of the corner of her eye, but she didn't have the heart to face them. They would only see one thing in her expression: she had lost. She had let them down; her friends down. But most of all, she had let her kingdom down, and that hurt most of all.

The captain dismounted and barked, "Give her here."

As if I were someone's possession, Alanna thought disgustedly as she felt hands lifting her off her horse. "I can get down MYSELF." She hissed at them as they placed her on the ground. Alanna straightened her shoulders and gave the commander the coldest look he'd ever hope to see. Her hands were still in chains.

"Come forward," he snarled, gesturing towards himself.

Alanna stood her ground, her face expressionless, but her eyes of pure ice nonetheless. She was not going to put up with this treatment, especially not in front of all of Tortall. If these Scanrans wanted her for their prisoner, they were about to learn that Tortallans never gave up without a fight. A strong wind ruffled the onlookers' hair, and Alanna remained where she was.

"I said, come forward." His face was ugly now.

"I will not." Alanna's expression was the very gesture of cold defiance.

"Come forward, prisoner!" Ha! Alanna thought, smirking slightly. He's losing it already, and I haven't even begun. There were whispers all along the crowd, but when Alanna spoke, there was not a sound in all the country. All heads were turned in her direction.

"My name is not 'prisoner', Scanran," she said coolly and carefully, so that he caught every word.

"Of course it is!" he snapped. "Come forward at once! I'm losing my patience!"

"My name is Alanna of Pirate's Swoop and Olau," she said clearly. "I am the King's Champion of Tortall, and was born Alanna of Trebond. You will address me as my name, or I refuse to take another step."

He sucked in his breath, his face turning a sort of splotchy purple, but Alanna was unrelenting. The Tortallans were applauding her courage, but Alanna shook her head, and they were silenced.

"I will not be spoken to in that manner," his voice was trembling with the effort of keeping his head.

"It looks like you just were." Alanna returned icily, not losing her ground.

"Are you challenging me?" he hissed, his eyes widening. "Your spite is astonishing! What is it you are trying to reach?"

"No, I am not challenging you," she returned calmly, her eyes are hard as brittle. "I do not want anything from you, nor am I trying to reach anything."

He stared at her, pulling on his mustache. All of the palace square was silent.

"But I will have you know, sir, that I have taken a vow, and I intend to uphold it."

"And what might this vow be?" He whispered, now twisting his beard.

"That I will never surrender. Not to you, not to anyone. I've made my decision."

Ooooh! It's a nasty ol' cliffhanger! I do have a tendency to infuriate people this way, don't I? *evil laugh*