The headman beckoned her forward. “These two came yesterday to our brothers in the Tribe of the Sleeping Lion,” he explained. “They tried to pass as desertmen, when it is plain they are northerners.”
Alanna walked forward, trying to see the captives’ faces. Both looked down. “Surely the men of the Sleeping Lion are able to look after spies,” she suggested, still not knowing why she had been called. “Unless they felt the Voice should see them?”
“These men asked questions about you, Alanna of Trebond,” replied Ali Mukhtab.
Faithful leaped from Alanna’s shoulder. Walking over to one of the kneeling men, the cat lazily butted against his face. Startled, the man looked up.
“’Fingers!” Alanna cried, startled. “What in the Name of the Mother are you doing here?”
The second man—one she had known only slightly from her days in the Court of the Rogue— looked up as well. The thief Alanna had known for years as “Lightfingers” grimaced.
“He said we weren’t t’let you know we was here,” he grumbled. “We was t’find out what’d happened to you, and if you was safe.”
“Doubtless you will explain in your own time, Alanna,” Halef remarked gently.
Red with embarrassment, Alanna faced him. “The master of these men is one of my oldest and greatest friends.”
“Who might their master be, that he sends spies to us rather than messengers who declare their intent openly?”
Alanna sighed. “He’s the master of the Court of the Rogue, the King of the Thieves in Tortall. If you knew him, you’d know he always sends spies rather than messengers.” She turned back to ’Fingers. “Why on earth is he looking for me? Surely he knows I’m all right.”
’Fingers shook his head. “I’m not the one t’question his Majesty,” he informed Alanna. “Not of late in particular, when he’s turned that testy. We knew we’d be caught, but—” He shrugged. “’Twas better far than stayin’ in Corus, when George is in a temper.”
Alanna smiled. “I’ve never seen George in a temper, but he’s formidable enough the rest of the time. Halef Seif, Ali Mukhtab, don’t hold these two responsible for their master’s orders. Disobeying George—the King of the Thieves—well, if you’re a thief it’s something you just don’t do.”
Removing his pipe from his mouth, Ali Mukhtab said, “I have heard of this George Cooper. As you say, he is a hard man to cross.”
“Surely these two haven’t seen anything the Bazhir wouldn’t want them to see,” Alanna pointed out.
“It is your will that they be released?” Halef Seif asked the Voice. Ali Mukhtab nodded, and Gammal knelt to cut the ropes binding the captives. “Listen to me,” Halef told them sternly. “You return to your King of Thieves unmarked and unharmed, but for a little rough handling. His next spies I will return to him with slit nostrils.” He nodded to Gammal. “Feed them and send them on their way. Make certain they are well on the road to the north before you return to us.”
“Tell George I’m well and content,” Alanna added as ’Fingers and his companion rose awkwardly. “I just need to live my own life for a while.”
Lightfingers nodded. “I’ll tell him, but I doubt he’ll like it.”
His companion looked around at the Bazhir. “He may have to,” he remarked dryly. They were hurried from the tent, the warriors following.
Alanna discovered Halef Seif and Ali Mukhtab were looking at her. At a gesture from the headman, she sat. Halef drew up his own pipe stand and sat as well, while a young tribesman who had stayed behind poured wine for each of them.
“Are there other such friends who will come seeking you, Alanna?” Ali Mukhtab wanted to know.
She shook her head. “George is a law to himself.”
“How did you come to know such a one?” The Voice gave Halef a light from his pipe.
“We met when I first arrived in Corus, disguised as a boy,” she replied. “He became my friend—”
“So he could steal in the palace,” Halef suggested dryly.
“Not at all. I never would’ve helped him to steal. As it was, he taught me knife-fighting, how to climb walls without a ladder—” She grinned. “All manner of useful things. And he got Moonlight for me.”
The Voice’s eyes were sharp. “He must be close to you, this—”
“George Cooper,” she supplied. “He’s my best friend in the world, next to Prince Jonathan.”
“This friend goes to great risk, sending messengers south to find you.”
Alanna blushed. “George worries about me,” she mumbled.
George loves you, Faithful yowled.
“Hush,” she snapped, seeing the two men look at her cat. Sometimes people could understand Faithful; she didn’t want this to be one of those times. She rose, nearly tripping over her burnoose. “If that’s everything—”