Birthday fic: Womanhood, redux (songs of swords and sorcery)
Womanhood, redux (songs of swords and sorcery)
note:
For Iona’s 22nd birthday. Happy birthday dear.
With thanks to emily_shore for her beta and the Science Fiction Special Collections and Archives for not questioning me too closely when I said I studied feminist children’s lit. Any non-standard spelling and grammar is entirely my own, the wonky timeline is definitely my own, and the characters are most definitely not my own.
Tortall fic, set when Alanna is a page.
****
"Alan? Alan! We're going swimming, you coming?"
"Swimming? Alan? Alan never swims!"
"Worried about getting his lovely locks wet, I'll bet!"
There was a burst of laughter at that. Alanna sighed and uncurled herself from the sunny windowsill. Doing homework was not how she intended to spend a rare free day - she'd planned on going to the market and buying a new curry comb after hers had mysteriously vanished - but sadly the pages' tutors didn't seem to feel the same itch to be out in the sunshine and apparently, thought the pages didn't, or shouldn't, feel that itch either.
"Alan? Oh, there you are!"
A page's tousled head appeared round the door. He and two others slipped in. Despite the enforced closeness among a group of adolescents thrown together, she preferred to spend her time with the slightly older Gareth, Raoul, Alex and Jon. She recognised this lot and shared lessons with them, but wasn't particularly good friends with them.
"I came in here because it was quiet," Alanna grumbled to them.
"Schoolwork?" he asked. "On a free afternoon? You're mad. We're going swimming."
"I don't know why you bother asking, we all know the Lady Alanna won't get her gorgeous red locks wet," commented the second. The third laughed and shoved him.
"I have to finish this off, then I've got to go to the market to pick up some things." She tried to keep her voice steady, ignoring the small voice that suggested they'd sought her out to hassle her under the guise of friendship. Surely no-one could take offence at an invitation to go swimming?
"You seem to be going into the market an awful lot," one of them observed. "I think Alan's got a friend there!"
"A special friend!" whooped another.
"Is she pretty? "
"Does she have big boobs, he means!"
The first did something - trod on his foot perhaps - because the teasing was getting away from the point.
"But anyway. Come swimming? Or are you afraid of getting your lily white skin tanned?"
"It's alright, we'll teach you. We know that ladies don't swim."
"Sod this, I need to get going."
She quickly rolled up the map and pushed past them, pausing only to drop the map back in its rack.
"Alan! Come on, they were only messing. Come back?"
****
She didn't pause as they called to her. It's stupid to get upset over this, she told herself. They hardly know any girls, how do they know what they're like? But it happens all the time, another part of her mind wailed. Lost in her thoughts, she didn't see Gareth until he called to her.
"You look annoyed," he observed, and Alanna noted the slight pause that meant that ‘annoyed' was a magnificent understatement. "Are they giving you a hard time?"
She nodded.
"Is it over swimming again? You could just go, although coming from Trebond I'm not surprised you think water is deathly cold and will ice up over you".
She made a face at him. "It's not just that, they're saying I'm a girl for not going."
"Well, that's stupid," he laughed. "Anyone can see you're not a girl."
"Oh?"
"Yes. Well. You're not. You're a page, so obviously you're not a girl."
She looked expectantly at him. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair.
"What, isn't that enough?"
"Humour me, Gary. Please."
"Hm. Alright. You're tough, you're not big but you're the best swordsman out of the pages. And you wrestle. And girls just, they just..."
He paused, obviously trying to work out what it was that girls did.
"They just sit in their rooms, and sew. And I saw the horse blanket you had to patch up, and you definitely can't sew. So there you are; you're not a girl. Er. You don't look impressed. That bit of logic clearly hasn't convinced you."
"Not really. Sorry."
He shrugged. "You're just. I don't know. Girls aren't very strong, are they? I mean, they can be healers and things, but we don't let them fight or anything. And they squabble, and they gossip, and they have babies...Alan, why are you asking me this? You're a page. Only boys become pages, only men can be knights. You wouldn't be here if you were a girl."
She sighed and scratched her neck. "Yeah, you're right."
"Don't let them get to you. They're just jealous."
She snorted at that. "Jealous of my huge muscles, right?"
He grinned at that, eyes dancing. "Jealous of your perfect unity of wit, intelligence and brute stren - ow! Don't hit me!"
"It was barely a tap!"
"A tap to you, O mighty one, but a mortal blow to me!"
"Idiot."
"Takes one to know one. Anyway, I have to deliver these documents for my father. I'll see you later?"
"Yes - I'm going to the market. Need anything?"
"Not that I can think of, unless you're willing to purchase the entire contents of Ram's sweetshop. No? Fair enough."
He ambled off with a good-natured wave. Alanna sighed and turned towards the stables. As kind as Gareth was, he hadn't exactly been helpful.
****
Alanna trotted through the busy marketplace. She'd managed to get waylaid by Stefan in the stables and now had a list of ingredients for a poultice because, as Stefan had grumbled, someone had let the comfrey stocks run low and he'd rather get it today than argue with the Palace healers. Also, the herbs she'd brought back last time were potent and had obviously been well-kept, so if she could do the same again he'd be most grateful. Admittedly not in so many words - Stefan was a shy man.
She lingered at the tack shop, eyeing the tooled leather bridles and ornate curb bits. She thought most of them were too harsh for Moonlight's soft mouth, but there was a bit with gold detailing on the shanks that would be gentle enough. Likely to be expensive though, too expensive for a page's allowance. Perhaps she could ask her father as a birthday present, and hope he wouldn't notice that it was too large for a lady's palfrey. She ignored the spurs, had a cursory glance at the headcollars, briefly considered the saddlecloths then finally turned to the currycombs. She picked out a well-made, workman-like currycomb, paid for it to be engraved with her initials, arranged to pick it up later and wandered out into the bright sunlight.
She picked her way carefully further into the Lower City, mindful of the whereabouts of her purse. There was only one place to go for herbs.
****
"Aha! I was praying to the Goddess for some help, and along comes this strong youngster!" Eleni greeted her. "My useless son is out up to who-knows-what," she added cheerfully, "and I strongly suspect it's because the alternative is hanging a big batch of herbs up for drying. You don't mind helping?"
"No, of course not," Alanna replied, slinging her leather bag over the back of a chair at the table. "Actually, I came because Stefan was so impressed with the comfrey last time."
Eleni snorted. "The other herbalists don't dry it properly. Anyway, get up on that stool and hang the bunches. I'll tie them and tell you where to put them."
They worked in silence for a while, the air filled with sunlight and the pungent smell of herbs. Eleni sometimes commented - "Camomile, it's soothing" or "Pennyroyal, pray you never need it" or "Mandrake, it's an anaesthetic. You do know what an anaesthetic is, don't you? Well, you'll learn soon enough" - but mostly, they worked to a rhythm. Eleni gathered bunches of herbs, neatly tied them and passed them to Alanna. Alanna hung them from hooks set into the beams. Occasionally Eleni would pass up a pair of thick leather gloves first - "You don't want prolonged contact" and in a couple of cases, "Touching this will make your skin burn and peel off for days." Once, Eleni paused before handing her something; Alanna peered down and saw her put a bunch of herbs to the side.
"Why did you do that?"
"Not safe enough for you to handle. It should be stored separately anyway."
At last Eleni straightened her back and stretched. The light in the room had changed from the brightness of midday to the softer, more golden light of afternoon. The rows of glass jars on the shelves shone in the light and dust motes and tiny fragments of herbs swirled in the air currents as Eleni swept the floor and Alanna carried the stool to its corner.
Eleni set out two mugs without asking, spooning tea leaves into the teapot. She nodded as Alanna hovered near the woodpile and smiled as the girl replenished the fire, skilfully adding to the hot but tidy fire.
"Well, my girl. What's bothering you?"
Alanna scrubbed a hand through her hair. "Bothering me?"
"You've been quiet all afternoon. Something's wrong."
She got up and poured hot water over the dried leaves.
"I. Oh, it's nothing really. Some of the other pages."
Eleni's eyes sharpened. "More trouble?"
"Not like that! They wouldn't dare," Alanna snorted. "No, just hassle."
"Hassle?"
"Oh, you know. Sticks and stones, words will never hurt me. It's just all the time. And who ever heard of pages scrapping because one of them asked the other to go swimming?"
"Ah."
"I used the falling down excuse so many times when I was younger that no one even bothered asking me where I fell."
Eleni chuckled. "My dear, small boys have been using that excuse for centuries. Your training masters said exactly the same to their training masters."
Alanna frowned. "Yes, but they're at least supposed to pretend they didn't know I didn't fall."
"True enough," Eleni laughed.
"But yes," Alanna said, staring into her mug. "It's about how I won't go swimming. I mean, it's not bad what they say, nothing like Ralon. But they call me a girl for it."
"What's so bad about being a girl?"
Alanna stared at her in incomprehension, then returned to staring at her mug. "Well, everyone says girls are silly and weak," she told her mug. "And they sit around and sew, and gossip, and squabble, and have babies...I don't even like babies!"
"Alanna, look at me," Eleni commanded. "Are you and I sitting here, gossiping and squabbling and having babies?"
"Well, no."
"There you go then."
"This is about as much help as talking to Gary," Alanna grumbled. "His logic was that only boys become pages, I am a page, ergo I am a boy."
"Well, pages probably don't have the greatest idea of what women are like. Instead, here you are, talking to me. We've just spent the afternoon working in my shop. I am a healer and I was a Priestess and I set up this business by myself, before George was born. Do you think I giggled and squabbled my way through my training and having my own shop?"
Chastened, Alanna told her mug that no, Eleni hadn't giggled and squabbled her way through anything.
"You nobles have a narrow view of thing. No, calm down, young hotblood, it's not an insult. Your code of chivalry isn't how the rest of Tortall works."
Eleni sipped her tea and continued. "See, my family weren't rich. My pa was a healer like me - he had the Gift, and his pa taught him his trade. It's alright for you nobles to spend years learning and not bringing in any money, but from the time I was old enough to tie knots in string, I was helping sort herbs. We weren't poor as such, but it's completely different from you. Trebond's paying for you, isn't it?"
Alanna nodded. "It had always been planned. Thom - my brother Thom - was supposed to come to court and learn to be a knight and I was supposed to go to the City of the Gods. Thom's studying to become a mage. I suppose I was meant to learn my letters and numbers and how to sing and dance, then come to court and find a rich husband. But yes, Trebond pays. One of us will end up managing it, so I suppose we're being educated for it."
Eleni snorted softly. "I can imagine you as the finest jewel in court."
Alanna laughed at that.
"I was the youngest but I had the strongest Gift. My brother and sister were apprenticed to others in the city - my brother to a healer, my sister to a leatherworker - but when I was ten I was sent to the Priestesses of the Goddess. There wasn't enough money to arrange another apprenticeship and besides, my father thought they could train me better. "
Eleni drained her mug and looked at Alanna enquiringly. She poured more tea for both of them before she settled back, long clever fingers wrapped round the mug, and continued.
"The Goddess won't force you to stay if you're being called elsewhere. I served her for years but then I knew that I was meant to be somewhere else. She let me go with her blessing - I felt it, it was so calming and wise and kind. And then I left. I found work as an assistant Healer, then when I'd earnt enough I bought this shop. My brother and his wife work in Goldenlake as healers and my sister has her shop near the main marketplace. You see? We couldn't wait around and flutter our eyelashes at pretty men, we had to earn our keep."
"Right. I think I understand now. They can be useless because they can afford to be."
"Oh Alanna, such bluntness?"
"Well, it's true."
"Hm. I think our lives are just so different. I couldn't afford to have a daughter if all she did was flirt and dance - she'd have to learn a trade, do something to support her family. There isn't room for hangers-on here."
Alanna laughed suddenly. "The women in the market - the stallholders. I overheard one of the more sheltered pages be scandalised because they were there on their own without a man!"
"They have to be," shrugged Eleni. "It looks like freedom to you, but your life looks like freedom to us."
"Freedom, huh. I was wrestling with Raoul yesterday. I think I have bruises in places I didn't think could bruise. "
"I'll give you some salve for that." She got up, picking out a brown glass jar and a bunch of dried herbs. "Here's Stefan's comfrey too, I'll put it in this bag or the leaves will crumble."
****
Alanna trudged back through the stables, dropping the currycomb into her grooming box and giving Moonlight a piece of dried apple. She scoured the stables for Stefan, eventually finding him soothing a very pregnant mare. He smiled a quick, shy smile at her as she handed him the bag of comfrey.
Finally she made her way back to the practice yards. A quick scan revealed that the duelling courts were empty save for some of the older pages and younger squires, most of which were shooting arrows into a battered looking target. Their shouts and laughter rang out.
"Alan! Where have you been?" Gary greeted her. "I thought I would be forced into archery but as you've turned up, can we duel? You've been doing me a great kindness."
She grinned back. "Stuff. You wouldn't want to know."
"In the Lower City again, then. I've got practice swords out."
"Oh, Gary. What will happen to you if you're surrounded by Scanran raiders and all you have is a bow?"
"All I have is a bow? Probably die gracefully then. I'd much rather have some arrows to go with it."
She rolled her eyes at that and picked up a practice sword.
They touched blades, then Gary almost immediately surged forward in an attack. She blocked his blade, the steel clanging on steel, then used the momentum for her own attack. Dimly, she was aware of the other pages watching; she glanced quickly at them, hoping to take advantage of Gary's insatiable curiosity. Sure enough, he followed her glance. She allowed herself a grin as she took the opportunity to attack, forcing Gary back and into defence. The practice sword was too heavy and clumsy to sing like Lightning, but her body sang anyway; a song of strength and youth and belonging.
note:
For Iona’s 22nd birthday. Happy birthday dear.
With thanks to emily_shore for her beta and the Science Fiction Special Collections and Archives for not questioning me too closely when I said I studied feminist children’s lit. Any non-standard spelling and grammar is entirely my own, the wonky timeline is definitely my own, and the characters are most definitely not my own.
Tortall fic, set when Alanna is a page.
****
"Alan? Alan! We're going swimming, you coming?"
"Swimming? Alan? Alan never swims!"
"Worried about getting his lovely locks wet, I'll bet!"
There was a burst of laughter at that. Alanna sighed and uncurled herself from the sunny windowsill. Doing homework was not how she intended to spend a rare free day - she'd planned on going to the market and buying a new curry comb after hers had mysteriously vanished - but sadly the pages' tutors didn't seem to feel the same itch to be out in the sunshine and apparently, thought the pages didn't, or shouldn't, feel that itch either.
"Alan? Oh, there you are!"
A page's tousled head appeared round the door. He and two others slipped in. Despite the enforced closeness among a group of adolescents thrown together, she preferred to spend her time with the slightly older Gareth, Raoul, Alex and Jon. She recognised this lot and shared lessons with them, but wasn't particularly good friends with them.
"I came in here because it was quiet," Alanna grumbled to them.
"Schoolwork?" he asked. "On a free afternoon? You're mad. We're going swimming."
"I don't know why you bother asking, we all know the Lady Alanna won't get her gorgeous red locks wet," commented the second. The third laughed and shoved him.
"I have to finish this off, then I've got to go to the market to pick up some things." She tried to keep her voice steady, ignoring the small voice that suggested they'd sought her out to hassle her under the guise of friendship. Surely no-one could take offence at an invitation to go swimming?
"You seem to be going into the market an awful lot," one of them observed. "I think Alan's got a friend there!"
"A special friend!" whooped another.
"Is she pretty? "
"Does she have big boobs, he means!"
The first did something - trod on his foot perhaps - because the teasing was getting away from the point.
"But anyway. Come swimming? Or are you afraid of getting your lily white skin tanned?"
"It's alright, we'll teach you. We know that ladies don't swim."
"Sod this, I need to get going."
She quickly rolled up the map and pushed past them, pausing only to drop the map back in its rack.
"Alan! Come on, they were only messing. Come back?"
****
She didn't pause as they called to her. It's stupid to get upset over this, she told herself. They hardly know any girls, how do they know what they're like? But it happens all the time, another part of her mind wailed. Lost in her thoughts, she didn't see Gareth until he called to her.
"You look annoyed," he observed, and Alanna noted the slight pause that meant that ‘annoyed' was a magnificent understatement. "Are they giving you a hard time?"
She nodded.
"Is it over swimming again? You could just go, although coming from Trebond I'm not surprised you think water is deathly cold and will ice up over you".
She made a face at him. "It's not just that, they're saying I'm a girl for not going."
"Well, that's stupid," he laughed. "Anyone can see you're not a girl."
"Oh?"
"Yes. Well. You're not. You're a page, so obviously you're not a girl."
She looked expectantly at him. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair.
"What, isn't that enough?"
"Humour me, Gary. Please."
"Hm. Alright. You're tough, you're not big but you're the best swordsman out of the pages. And you wrestle. And girls just, they just..."
He paused, obviously trying to work out what it was that girls did.
"They just sit in their rooms, and sew. And I saw the horse blanket you had to patch up, and you definitely can't sew. So there you are; you're not a girl. Er. You don't look impressed. That bit of logic clearly hasn't convinced you."
"Not really. Sorry."
He shrugged. "You're just. I don't know. Girls aren't very strong, are they? I mean, they can be healers and things, but we don't let them fight or anything. And they squabble, and they gossip, and they have babies...Alan, why are you asking me this? You're a page. Only boys become pages, only men can be knights. You wouldn't be here if you were a girl."
She sighed and scratched her neck. "Yeah, you're right."
"Don't let them get to you. They're just jealous."
She snorted at that. "Jealous of my huge muscles, right?"
He grinned at that, eyes dancing. "Jealous of your perfect unity of wit, intelligence and brute stren - ow! Don't hit me!"
"It was barely a tap!"
"A tap to you, O mighty one, but a mortal blow to me!"
"Idiot."
"Takes one to know one. Anyway, I have to deliver these documents for my father. I'll see you later?"
"Yes - I'm going to the market. Need anything?"
"Not that I can think of, unless you're willing to purchase the entire contents of Ram's sweetshop. No? Fair enough."
He ambled off with a good-natured wave. Alanna sighed and turned towards the stables. As kind as Gareth was, he hadn't exactly been helpful.
****
Alanna trotted through the busy marketplace. She'd managed to get waylaid by Stefan in the stables and now had a list of ingredients for a poultice because, as Stefan had grumbled, someone had let the comfrey stocks run low and he'd rather get it today than argue with the Palace healers. Also, the herbs she'd brought back last time were potent and had obviously been well-kept, so if she could do the same again he'd be most grateful. Admittedly not in so many words - Stefan was a shy man.
She lingered at the tack shop, eyeing the tooled leather bridles and ornate curb bits. She thought most of them were too harsh for Moonlight's soft mouth, but there was a bit with gold detailing on the shanks that would be gentle enough. Likely to be expensive though, too expensive for a page's allowance. Perhaps she could ask her father as a birthday present, and hope he wouldn't notice that it was too large for a lady's palfrey. She ignored the spurs, had a cursory glance at the headcollars, briefly considered the saddlecloths then finally turned to the currycombs. She picked out a well-made, workman-like currycomb, paid for it to be engraved with her initials, arranged to pick it up later and wandered out into the bright sunlight.
She picked her way carefully further into the Lower City, mindful of the whereabouts of her purse. There was only one place to go for herbs.
****
"Aha! I was praying to the Goddess for some help, and along comes this strong youngster!" Eleni greeted her. "My useless son is out up to who-knows-what," she added cheerfully, "and I strongly suspect it's because the alternative is hanging a big batch of herbs up for drying. You don't mind helping?"
"No, of course not," Alanna replied, slinging her leather bag over the back of a chair at the table. "Actually, I came because Stefan was so impressed with the comfrey last time."
Eleni snorted. "The other herbalists don't dry it properly. Anyway, get up on that stool and hang the bunches. I'll tie them and tell you where to put them."
They worked in silence for a while, the air filled with sunlight and the pungent smell of herbs. Eleni sometimes commented - "Camomile, it's soothing" or "Pennyroyal, pray you never need it" or "Mandrake, it's an anaesthetic. You do know what an anaesthetic is, don't you? Well, you'll learn soon enough" - but mostly, they worked to a rhythm. Eleni gathered bunches of herbs, neatly tied them and passed them to Alanna. Alanna hung them from hooks set into the beams. Occasionally Eleni would pass up a pair of thick leather gloves first - "You don't want prolonged contact" and in a couple of cases, "Touching this will make your skin burn and peel off for days." Once, Eleni paused before handing her something; Alanna peered down and saw her put a bunch of herbs to the side.
"Why did you do that?"
"Not safe enough for you to handle. It should be stored separately anyway."
At last Eleni straightened her back and stretched. The light in the room had changed from the brightness of midday to the softer, more golden light of afternoon. The rows of glass jars on the shelves shone in the light and dust motes and tiny fragments of herbs swirled in the air currents as Eleni swept the floor and Alanna carried the stool to its corner.
Eleni set out two mugs without asking, spooning tea leaves into the teapot. She nodded as Alanna hovered near the woodpile and smiled as the girl replenished the fire, skilfully adding to the hot but tidy fire.
"Well, my girl. What's bothering you?"
Alanna scrubbed a hand through her hair. "Bothering me?"
"You've been quiet all afternoon. Something's wrong."
She got up and poured hot water over the dried leaves.
"I. Oh, it's nothing really. Some of the other pages."
Eleni's eyes sharpened. "More trouble?"
"Not like that! They wouldn't dare," Alanna snorted. "No, just hassle."
"Hassle?"
"Oh, you know. Sticks and stones, words will never hurt me. It's just all the time. And who ever heard of pages scrapping because one of them asked the other to go swimming?"
"Ah."
"I used the falling down excuse so many times when I was younger that no one even bothered asking me where I fell."
Eleni chuckled. "My dear, small boys have been using that excuse for centuries. Your training masters said exactly the same to their training masters."
Alanna frowned. "Yes, but they're at least supposed to pretend they didn't know I didn't fall."
"True enough," Eleni laughed.
"But yes," Alanna said, staring into her mug. "It's about how I won't go swimming. I mean, it's not bad what they say, nothing like Ralon. But they call me a girl for it."
"What's so bad about being a girl?"
Alanna stared at her in incomprehension, then returned to staring at her mug. "Well, everyone says girls are silly and weak," she told her mug. "And they sit around and sew, and gossip, and squabble, and have babies...I don't even like babies!"
"Alanna, look at me," Eleni commanded. "Are you and I sitting here, gossiping and squabbling and having babies?"
"Well, no."
"There you go then."
"This is about as much help as talking to Gary," Alanna grumbled. "His logic was that only boys become pages, I am a page, ergo I am a boy."
"Well, pages probably don't have the greatest idea of what women are like. Instead, here you are, talking to me. We've just spent the afternoon working in my shop. I am a healer and I was a Priestess and I set up this business by myself, before George was born. Do you think I giggled and squabbled my way through my training and having my own shop?"
Chastened, Alanna told her mug that no, Eleni hadn't giggled and squabbled her way through anything.
"You nobles have a narrow view of thing. No, calm down, young hotblood, it's not an insult. Your code of chivalry isn't how the rest of Tortall works."
Eleni sipped her tea and continued. "See, my family weren't rich. My pa was a healer like me - he had the Gift, and his pa taught him his trade. It's alright for you nobles to spend years learning and not bringing in any money, but from the time I was old enough to tie knots in string, I was helping sort herbs. We weren't poor as such, but it's completely different from you. Trebond's paying for you, isn't it?"
Alanna nodded. "It had always been planned. Thom - my brother Thom - was supposed to come to court and learn to be a knight and I was supposed to go to the City of the Gods. Thom's studying to become a mage. I suppose I was meant to learn my letters and numbers and how to sing and dance, then come to court and find a rich husband. But yes, Trebond pays. One of us will end up managing it, so I suppose we're being educated for it."
Eleni snorted softly. "I can imagine you as the finest jewel in court."
Alanna laughed at that.
"I was the youngest but I had the strongest Gift. My brother and sister were apprenticed to others in the city - my brother to a healer, my sister to a leatherworker - but when I was ten I was sent to the Priestesses of the Goddess. There wasn't enough money to arrange another apprenticeship and besides, my father thought they could train me better. "
Eleni drained her mug and looked at Alanna enquiringly. She poured more tea for both of them before she settled back, long clever fingers wrapped round the mug, and continued.
"The Goddess won't force you to stay if you're being called elsewhere. I served her for years but then I knew that I was meant to be somewhere else. She let me go with her blessing - I felt it, it was so calming and wise and kind. And then I left. I found work as an assistant Healer, then when I'd earnt enough I bought this shop. My brother and his wife work in Goldenlake as healers and my sister has her shop near the main marketplace. You see? We couldn't wait around and flutter our eyelashes at pretty men, we had to earn our keep."
"Right. I think I understand now. They can be useless because they can afford to be."
"Oh Alanna, such bluntness?"
"Well, it's true."
"Hm. I think our lives are just so different. I couldn't afford to have a daughter if all she did was flirt and dance - she'd have to learn a trade, do something to support her family. There isn't room for hangers-on here."
Alanna laughed suddenly. "The women in the market - the stallholders. I overheard one of the more sheltered pages be scandalised because they were there on their own without a man!"
"They have to be," shrugged Eleni. "It looks like freedom to you, but your life looks like freedom to us."
"Freedom, huh. I was wrestling with Raoul yesterday. I think I have bruises in places I didn't think could bruise. "
"I'll give you some salve for that." She got up, picking out a brown glass jar and a bunch of dried herbs. "Here's Stefan's comfrey too, I'll put it in this bag or the leaves will crumble."
****
Alanna trudged back through the stables, dropping the currycomb into her grooming box and giving Moonlight a piece of dried apple. She scoured the stables for Stefan, eventually finding him soothing a very pregnant mare. He smiled a quick, shy smile at her as she handed him the bag of comfrey.
Finally she made her way back to the practice yards. A quick scan revealed that the duelling courts were empty save for some of the older pages and younger squires, most of which were shooting arrows into a battered looking target. Their shouts and laughter rang out.
"Alan! Where have you been?" Gary greeted her. "I thought I would be forced into archery but as you've turned up, can we duel? You've been doing me a great kindness."
She grinned back. "Stuff. You wouldn't want to know."
"In the Lower City again, then. I've got practice swords out."
"Oh, Gary. What will happen to you if you're surrounded by Scanran raiders and all you have is a bow?"
"All I have is a bow? Probably die gracefully then. I'd much rather have some arrows to go with it."
She rolled her eyes at that and picked up a practice sword.
They touched blades, then Gary almost immediately surged forward in an attack. She blocked his blade, the steel clanging on steel, then used the momentum for her own attack. Dimly, she was aware of the other pages watching; she glanced quickly at them, hoping to take advantage of Gary's insatiable curiosity. Sure enough, he followed her glance. She allowed herself a grin as she took the opportunity to attack, forcing Gary back and into defence. The practice sword was too heavy and clumsy to sing like Lightning, but her body sang anyway; a song of strength and youth and belonging.