In the Hand of the Goddess by Tamora Pierce Page A

about all day?”
    â€œYou’ve got guard duty, Jem Tanner?” Alanna snapped, aware that Jonathan was tight with anger. “Then guard.”
    Faithful leaped onto Alanna’s lap as they rode on, startling Darkness not a bit. “Who was that?” Jonathan asked quietly.
    â€œOne of the men from camp. Being nasty is his hobby. You were warning me about him, weren’t you, Faithful?”
    If you’re going to fall in love with the prince, don’t show it , the cat advised. Unless you want the whole camp talking about you both.
    â€œI’m not fa—” Alanna stopped; aware that Jonathan was listening intently, one of his arms still around her waist.
    â€œAre you two talking ?” he wanted to know.
    â€œAsk Faithful,” Alanna said tersely. “I just answer his questions.”
    A soldier came forward to take Darkness as they entered their own camp. Myles summoned the prince to his tent, and Alanna was left alone with her thoughts. She kept remembering the men she tried to heal, with their terrible wounds and the glazed look of pain in their eyes. She remembered every cut, every broken bone, until her stomach began to roll. She couldn’t make herself think of anything else.
    Her body rebelled. She rushed out to the back of the tent, where the little she had eaten that day came up violently. She struggled to be quiet; she wanted no one to witness her shame. Warriors were not supposed to throw up at the sight of blood and dying.
    Cool hands soothed her head, steadying her. When she stopped heaving, Jon gave her a dipperfulof water. Gratefully she splashed some on her face and rinsed her mouth out.
    â€œIf Faithful told you, I’ll skin him,” she whispered hoarsely.
    â€œNo,” Jon replied. “I was coming back and I heard you.”
    â€œYou must think I’m an awful sissy.”
    There was silence for a moment. Then he replied, “I threw up after my first skirmish.”
    Alanna looked at her friend, startled. “You never.”
    He nodded. “I did. I just didn’t have anyone to hold my head for me.” He ruffled her hair. “Don’t tell the men, will you?”
    â€œI won’t tell if you won’t.”
    â€œDone.” He held open the flap of the tent. “It wouldn’t do for them to think we’re sissies, would it?”

    Just two nights later Alanna went looking for Big Thor. His spear needed replacing, and she had one from a man who had died in the healers’ tents. The watch captain told her Thor and Jem Tanner had guard duty on the wooded point of land just below the camp, and Alanna set out to meet them, lugging the too-large spear. It was late; everyone but the sentries wasgoing to bed. The night pressed in as she left the camp behind. She could hear animals in the nearby trees, even Faithful’s soft padding as he walked beside her. Suddenly the cat dashed into the trees that screened Alanna from Thor’s guard post. Frowning, Alanna followed. She was remembering that Jonathan had objected to this little wood that isolated the point so effectively. The enemy could easily cross here and pick off Jonathan’s and Imrah’s men if the sentries were unable to give the warning. Things would be easier for everyone if the trees were chopped down. Roger had talked the prince out of it, saying he didn’t want men tired out with woodcutting if the enemy attacked, which they did almost every day. His words were reasonable, and Jon had given in.
    Faithful yowled a warning to Alanna before she left the shelter of the wood. She ducked behind a big oak and peered at the sentry post, listening.
    Thor was not at his station. Neither was Jem Tanner. Instead three men in dark clothing stood on the point. One was lighting a torch while another fitted an arrow to his bow. Faithful yowled again in fury as he positioned himself between the three and Alanna’s hiding place. He hissed evilly,