Chapter One

The sound of hoof beats woke Alanna from her uneasy sleep before even the lookout heard the approaching rider.  She rose from her bed and was strapping her sword to her waist when the sound of a trumpet announced that their visitor was friendly.  Muttering a few choice words about how friendly it was to call at this hour she reached for her thick jacket and pulled it on to shield herself from the cold.  At the sound of a chuckle, she spun round, to see King Jonathon standing at the door, a broad smile on his face.  Alanna glared at him and shifted her weight to one side, at the same time placing her hands on her hips.

            "And just what's so funny?" she asked irritably, before remembering who she was speaking to and dropping to one knee to greet her king.

            Jonathon scowled and stepped forward, pulling her up by her armpits.  "Stop that Alanna!  I just had to endure that behaviour from your entire camp and that was more than irritating enough,"

            "And what exactly do you mean by calling at this hour?" Alanna demanded.  "Shouldn't you be in Corus for Kalasin's visit?"

            "We just received some news I thought you might be interested in," the king replied.  Alanna looked up, interest showing in her eyes.

            "This was sent to your father yesterday," Jonathon told her, holding out a rumpled piece of parchment.

            Alanna snatched it from him and unfolded it.  Then she looked up at Jonathon half angrily.

            "You know I can't read these codes Your Majesty!" she announced irritably.  Jon smiled.

            "Nor can I, but Myles told me what it says: 'Please inform my wife that I have found the cub, and she is unharmed and content.  I would think it should interest her, signed G.C.'

            Alanna looked at the parchment in her hands like it was a treasure, and then burst into tears.  The king took her in his arms and rocked her gently, murmuring soft words.

            "Ssh, Alanna; it's alright; your daughters safe; Ssh,"

            "Oh Jon," she sobbed.  "It's all my fault.  If it hadn't been for me being such a useless mother, she'd be safe at home right now, not…" she flipped the parchment over, "The Copper Isles,"

            "Getting up to mischief and no doubt enjoying herself immensely," the king noted.  "She's probably set up her own spying business and is reporting all her findings to George as we speak,"

            Alanna sobbed again.  "My daughter wants to be a spy," she whispered.

            "And why shouldn't she?" Jonathon asked.  "If that's what she wants you should let her, and hope that she will be perfectly happy, and live and love as she pleases.  There's no indignity in spying love,"

            Alanna looked up at the king through tear rimmed eyes.  "Jon…" she began.

            The king smiled sadly at her.  "Let her be as she wishes Alanna.  Let her do what we could not," He kissed her, and then, wrapping his arms about her body, he lifted her from the ground towards him.  Alanna gasped at the feel of his lips on hers and then kissed him back passionately, forgetting for a moment that such things could not be.

            By the time she remembered it was too late to stop.  She had already committed the sin that she had spent the last twenty years trying to avoid.  She had put her love for Jon behind her when she agreed to marry George, and over the years had pushed it back fiercely when it tried to re-emerge.  And now here she was with her arms around Jon's neck, kissing and being kissed in return.

            She shook herself and pushed away from Jonathon, staring wildly at her king.  Before she turned away she saw the same conclusion reflected back in Jon's eyes.  She walked over to her bed and sat down on the end of it, listening to the sounds of Jon collecting the message from George off the floor and placing it gently on her desk.  Then she heard the sound of the tent flap being brushed aside, and Jon's boots fading away into the night.  She lay down on her bed and pulled the covers up round her, and then burst into tears.

            In her sleep that night she dreamed of Jonathon as she had first known him and of all the kisses and nights they had shared together.  She woke up sobbing, and left her tent without bothering to dress, wandering to the edge of the woods.  She stood there for a long time, until finally the cold of a Scanran winter penetrated her turbulent thoughts.  Then she raced back into her tent and dressed speedily, ignoring the sharp chills that rushed through her body as she attempted to warm her body with her magic.  Then she went out to join the soldiers.

            When she woke a few days later to discover a dry throat, blocked nose, and roaring headache, Alanna cursed Jon, and herself, for allowing their kiss to happen.  She attempted to use her gift to heal herself, but found that she was drained from lack of sleep, and this too she blamed on Jon, for it seemed that every time her eyes had closed in recent times, she had found herself dreaming of the blue eyed monarch.  The dreams infuriated Alanna to the point of madness, partly because of the feelings they stirred up.

She had given herself several stern lectures, the gist of which had been:"You are not in love with Jonathon; you're not!  It's just that you were very emotional, and he was tired, and…" but their effect had not been the one that she desired, quite the reverse, if anything.

            She gave herself another anyway, as she sat in her tent with her fingers pinched over her nose to stem the flow of blood that seemed to find room to pass where air could not.  Irritably she waited while the blood streaming from her nose eased and then clotted, before storming out of her tent to go and join her generals.  Alanna of Trebond, Pirate's Swoop and Olau was not going to be beaten by a cold.

            Two days later she lay in bed, fuming silently, as her former squire Nealan of Queenscove placed his hand on her forehead and muttered to himself as his power flowed into Alanna and destroyed the sickness that ravaged her body.  After he was done she got up impatiently, but Neal placed on firm hand on her chest and pushed her down.

            "I will be remaining here for the next twenty four hours," he informed her.  "And until I leave, in this bed you will remain."  Alanna scowled venomously at the healer, who danced back in mock horror.

            "Now, now, Lady Alanna, don't be like that.  The wind might change, and you wouldn't want to be stuck looking like that forever,"

            Alanna refused to be amused by Nealan's somewhat debatable sense of humour, opting instead to reach for the papers that he had brought with him, which lay in a pile at the foot of her bed.

            She began to read, pretending to be unaware of Neal's presence, until he spoke up again.

            "Oh, and you'll be happy to know that George Cooper has returned unscathed from his business trip, and he sends his love and wishes he could come to you in person as was commanded by the king, but unfortunately he has received a very important communication from one of his operatives, and must tend to the matter personally and immediately,"

            He gave a mock bow as he finished his speech, and grinned impishly at Alanna.  "And thus I take my leave of you," He skipped out of the way of a kick aimed at him by the champion and darted from the room.

            Alanna glared at the door through which he had left for a few seconds, and then settled down onto her bed to think.  Neal's message had affected her more than she would ever have let the gossipy knight know.  She was for the most part pleased that George had returned in all health, but she was disturbed by the fact that he had not mentioned Aly at all.  Then there was the "commanded by the king".  That statement perplexed Alanna deeply, for she did not understand why Jon would want her to see George after what had passed between the two of them.  It did not fit with her thirty three years of experience of the king, who did nothing impulsively and was very deliberate about getting what he wanted.  Did his wish for George to see her mean that he wanted to make it clear that the kiss had been a one time only thing, and she should never think of it again.  That seemed like the logical conclusion; it had been a fling, a rebellion of sorts, the king's way of breaking free from all the rules that governed his life.

Alanna began to cry softly, upset that her Jonathon would do such a thing to her.  He surely knew the anguish that it would cause her, and the confusion,  and the kiss had seemed so sweet, so precious, so… forbidden, Alanna suddenly realised, and not just to Jonathon.  She had kissed him too, and betrayed her marriage just as he had.  All for the memory of something long gone, some impetuous childish love that had never been more than a dream. 

Alanna knew then that Jonathon had done her a favour, whether or not that had been his intention.  He had taught her a valuable lesson with his kiss.  She must harden her heart, destroy utterly the feelings for Jon that had lain dormant within her for so many years, and never think of him as anything but king & friend.

Her resolve set, Alanna returned to the documents Neal had brought, a great weight lifted from her.

Some months later Alanna rode alone into Corus.  She manoeuvred her her horse easily through the early morning crowds in the market place, and made her way up the gently sloping hill towards the palace, gaining admittance to the grounds with a wave to the sentries.

She left Darkmoon in the care of Stephan and made her way towards the quarters she used while staying at the palace.  As she passed the practice courts she heard the sounds of someone moving about, and peered around the door to see who it was.  She smiled when she recognized crown princess Kalasin, now Empress of Cathark, and stepped out to join the girl, moving her sword into a defensive position as Kalasin's swept down.  The princess smiled and twisted her arm, unlocking the two swords, before dropping hers on the ground.

"So you finally realised the Scanrans had given up and decided to come back home then?" she asked, dark eyes shining happily.  Alanna laughed.

"Something like that.  But what about you?  Shouldn't you be in Cathark trying to provide the kingdom with an heir?"

"Been there, doing that," Kalasin told her calmly, resting one hand on her belly.  When she took it away the sweat soaked fabric clung to a small bulge, barely noticeable, that marred her perfectly flat stomach.

Alanna looked at her, visibly shocked.  She opened her mouth and began to protest.  Kalasin gave her an impatient look.

"Don't be silly Lady Alanna; I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself, and by the way, don't be a hypocrite.  Young I may have been, but I vividly remember the discussion you had with Papa when you were pregnant the first time.

"He's in his study," she added as an afterthought.

Alanna frowned at her.  "I'm not…" she began, but Kalasin cut her off with a delicately raised eyebrow.  She then gave the sweet smile that not even her elder brother was immune to and sauntered off towards the royal apartments, stooping to collect her sword as she went.

Alanna watched her go and sighed deeply.  Kalasin was, of all the Royal children, closest to her father in mind, though confidence had never changed into arrogance in her as it had in Jon.  The girl was also a very strong healer, and possessed an unlikely sixth-sense that made her impossible to lie to.  She had picked from the depths of Alanna's soul the knight's desire to see the king, and had instructed her in no uncertain terms what to do about it.

At the thought of Jonathon that Kalasin had somehow conjured in her mind, Alanna glanced towards the window of his study, high above.  For a moment she thought she glimpsed Jon's face framed there, but when she looked again it was gone.

Alanna chewed on her lip nervously as she thought about her options.  They were, to put it bluntly, to go and see Jonathon as she wanted so desperately to do, or to return to the stables and ride back to Pirate's Swoop to her family.

Her thoughts were abruptly cut off as the stone around her neck began to burn.  Grabbing at it furiously, she spun round, and stopped dead as she saw the great black cat slinking towards her.

"Faithful?" she whispered disbelievingly.

"Wonderful, you actually recognize me," her former pet purred.  "And here I was thinking you'd forgotten everything that happened more than three seconds ago.  Come to think of it, you do look a little like a goldfish,"

Alanna blinked several times.  "You… you were…" she tried, but couldn't get the words out.

"Yes I was," the cat replied, strolling over to her and presenting his belly, which Alanna obediently scratched.  "But now I'm back, temporarily, because my mistress has decided that she absolutely cannot stand to have you mooning over that Godsforsaken King of yours for one more second, so either you go up there and talk to him, or I will take you up there myself and supervise, your choice,"

Alanna looked at the cat to try and gauge whether or not he was joking.  Satisfied that he was not, she gave him one last pet and one last glare, and stalked off towards the tower.

Alanna changed her mind at least eight times as she walked up the stairs to Jon's office.  When she finally stood in front of the heavily polished wooden door, she went over in her mind just one last time what a bad idea it was, for the benefit of any deities who just happened to be listening in.  There was no sign that either the Goddess or Faithful were feeling even the littlest bit repentant, so she raised her hand to knock.  Before she could do that, the door opened and Jonathon was standing there.

Alanna sunk respectfully to one knee.  "Your Majesty," she murmured, trying to see Jon's face from under her eyelids.

"Lady Alanna," he replied with equal formality.  "Please come in,"

She began to protest, but was quelled by the look in Jon's eyes, the naked desire burning there.  Instinctively Alanna knew that her own eyes gave away the same emotion, and she stood and stepped over the threshold into Jon's office.  The king motioned for her to take a seat, and she did so, as he slid into one opposite her.  For a long time they stared at each other without speaking.  Jonathon broke the silence.

"So was there any specific purpose to this visit?" he asked.  Alanna winced.

"None Sire; I was passing through the capital on my way home and though I would stop in & pay you a visit"

"I see," Jon replied.  "Please give my regards to your husband the next time you see him, and tell him it seems his luck is holding true as ever," the hurt tone in his voice was unbearable.

Alanna felt tears welling up in her eyes.  "Jon," she whispered, unwillingly rising to her feet and moving towards him.  He stood.

"I'm scared," she whispered.  "Help me, please."

Jonathon's voice was rough as he said, "I'm scared, too.  At least we can be scared together."