Garia's attempts to obtain exercise clothing from Mistress Yolda encounter more resistance than expected, leaving her wondering if she is doing the right thing. The evening is taken up by the funeral of Morlan and Garia's first experience of public ceremony in Palarand.

Somewhere Else Entirely

by Penny Lane

15 - Fire and Ashes

Disclaimer: The original characters and plot of this story are the property of the author. No infringement of pre-existing copyright is intended. This story is copyright (c) 2011-2017 Penny Lane. All rights reserved.

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"Do you think I'm silly, Ma'am, wanting to insist on doing this?"

Garia put her cup of pel down on the table and looked at the Queen. They, along with Prince Keren, had gathered in the Queen's sitting-room following their afternoon nap and Garia had begun to have misgivings about her need to exercise.

"It's difficult to say, dear," Terys replied. "After all, it is plain that the customs you are used to are going to be different than ours, and that you will want to perform activities you are familiar with. I don't think I could find fault with you doing that."

"But, Ma'am," Garia said tentatively, "It's not that simple, is it? It's not as if I'm a visitor to Palarand, staying for a few days, weeks or even months, and then going home. For practical purposes I have to consider this to be my home, now. Perhaps I ought to be fitting into the local customs instead of creating more problems for you all."

"And why would you think that taking exercise would be different than any of the other things you're likely to be changing in Palarand, my dear? Already I have visions of people waving forks while they write on paper and peer through telescopes." Terys gave Garia an encouraging smile. "We recognized that you would be bringing changes, that your appearance was probably a sign that change was needed, and that's part of the reason we took you in, Garia. If you should happen to cause a craze for exercise among the young of the country, we shall observe with interest but no more. You've already brought change, dear, and the best way to allow you to flourish is for you to be happy, and if that includes exercise then so be it."

Garia considered Terys's words with a glum face. Inside, the fact that the Queen supported her growing need to do something physical with her body filled her with a glow of satisfaction and the reiterated support for the changes she was bringing to Anmar was boosting her confidence as well. It was just that she was not looking forward to the upcoming confrontation, and she knew that it would be a confrontation. There was another consideration, too.

"There's also the factor that I don't have the same body I had before I came here."

Both Terys and Keren already knew this, but it was apparent to both of them that Garia was unsure of just what her new body might be capable of. If anything. It was Keren who replied this time.

"We understand that, Garia, we also realize that nobody is going to know what you might be able to do until you experiment. Bleskin has given us use of the hall and we can be discreet, so you can find out what might be possible without making a fool of yourself. I'm assuming that's what's worrying you?"

"Um, well, sort of," she replied. "I'm also not entirely sure what I'm going to be able to wear while I'm doing it. After all, I could be dressed just about anyhow to start with, assuming we can get sufficient privacy, but a day will come when others will see me and I don't want to cause too much disapproval if I can help it."

"Your modesty does you credit, dear," Terys said, "but I don't understand, what do girls wear when exercising on your own world?" She gave a minute shake of the head. "The problem for me is, I don't think I even understand what kind of exercising a girl would do in any event."

"Um," Garia said unhappily, "I really don't want to spend much time over this today, because I want to get down to Mistress Yolda before we eat this evening, but -"

Garia then told a horrified Terys and an amused Keren just what a typical high-school girl on Earth would wear while doing gymnastics in class, and what she would be doing with her body. The Queen's cheeks were flaming and her mouth was wide open with shock. Keren had difficulty suppressing a broad grin behind his hand.

"I don't propose to go that far, however," Garia concluded. "I'm not that stupid. What I need is probably something similar to what Keren's wearing now, I think. A lightweight tunic that flares out below the waist to allow free leg movement and a pair of thinnish tights to cover my legs. That shouldn't be difficult, should it?"

"For exercising, Garia, that would probably work," Keren said. "You wouldn't be able to walk through the palace like that, though, you'd be showing too much of your legs."

"I know," she said. "I'm not sure how to get around that. Either I'd have to wear a cloak, which would look silly in this weather, or change when I get there. I doubt you have changing facilities there, do you?"

Keren shook his head. "No. After training the men usually go back to their quarters to bathe and change."

There was a silence. All three picked of their cups and drank while they considered the problem.

"Why not wear a separate skirt, dear?" Terys finally said. "If you put it over the tunic, it will make the whole thing look like a gown. Then, when you get to wherever you're going, you can just take it off."

Garia's nose wrinkled. "I don't really know much about what women wear in these parts, Ma'am. I don't think I've seen anyone wear a separate top and skirt since I've been here, though. Not that I've noticed."

"Not in the palace, no," the Queen qualified, "and not among the ladies of the court either. There are one or two of the palace servants who do, that's because their jobs are messy and it makes sense to easily change a skirt when necessary. Outside in the city it would be the same story. The wives of the upper classes wouldn't be seen dead in a separate bodice and skirt but there are many of the common folk who dress that way. Besides, if it is done carefully no-one will realize that you aren't wearing a gown."

"If you say so, Ma'am," Garia replied doubtfully. She turned to Keren. "Your Highness, might I ask you for some moral support? I know you probably feel like discussing women's clothing about as much as I do right now but I'm not sure I can face Mistress Yolda on my own."

Keren grinned. "I forget sometimes you used to look like me. Of course I'll come." His expression sobered. "Do I need to bring armor and a sword?"

"Now, you two," Terys scolded. "Mistress Yolda isn't that bad." She paused, wondering if perhaps her son had a valid point. "She's just a little old-fashioned, that's all. With Keren at your side, Garia, I don't think she'll cause you any problems. Now, go."

~o~O~o~

As before they located Mistress Yolda in one of the huts that filled the courtyard behind her office. Garia decided to tackle the easy portion of her requirements first.

"Mistress Yolda, I am going to need more suitable shoes before I can attend the funeral this evening. These slippers are not going to be sturdy enough for walking the field."

"Of course, Mistress. Will you follow me into the boot hut, which is just next door?"

Inside of the door of the hut a cobbler sat at a table hammering nails into the sole of a boot he was repairing. Beyond him a beefy-looking servant woman was mending a woman's shoe by carefully stitching over a threadbare section of the fabric upper. To their side the rest of the hut was crammed with shelves filled with all kinds of shoes, boots and other footwear. It seemed extraordinary to someone who had come from a throw-away society but it appeared everything possible was recycled, if a pair of shoes no longer fitted or their owner no longer had need for them then back into the store they went, refurbished ready for their next owner.

"If I may have one of your slippers for the size, Mistress."

Yolda took the slipper and disappeared into the shelving, reappearing a few moments later with a pair of outdoor shoes. They were off-white slip-ons, had a block heel of perhaps two inches and had seen a certain amount of previous wear. Garia tried them on.

"Well, they're certainly different," she remarked. "They seem to fit reasonably well, though, so I'll take them to wear tonight. Uh, Mistress Yolda?"

"Yes, Mistress?"

"I may need two or three more pairs of outdoor shoes in the near future," Garia explained. "Since I am no longer restricted to the palace, and in view of my new responsibilities, I may need to make visits to places in the city. I'll need more than just one pair of shoes."

"Yes, Mistress," Yolda said. "I can provide those for you. You'll have to come and be fitted, shoes cannot be adjusted the same way as clothing can."

Garia nodded. "I understand, Mistress Yolda. Ah, I'll also need a pair of soft-soled boots the same as Prince Keren here is wearing, please. The footwear I have will not be suitable for use in the Small Practice Hall."

Yolda regarded Garia with surprise and suspicion. What on earth was the girl doing in there? Wasn't it full of uncouth guardsmen most of the day? Her lips thinned, but she considered the situation carefully. She had never even been to that part of the palace complex in all the years she had worked for its kings so she had no idea what the inside of the Small Practice Hall looked like. It could easily be argued that satin slippers would not be appropriate there, and neither would outdoor shoes since the nails might tear up the floor surface. Reluctantly heaving a mental sigh at the outlandish request she nodded and turned away.

"As you wish, Mistress. I will find something for you."

She returned with a pair of boots and handed them to Garia. Like those that Keren wore they were red-brown ankle boots made entirely of something like suede, even the soles. Every seam was stitched which meant that they would cause no damage to any surface during physical exercise. Garia longed for some sneakers or even baseball boots but she knew that was impossible. Trying on the boots she found they were a little large but tightening the laces kept her feet firmly in position.

"They'll do, Mistress Yolda, but they are actually a little large."

"As you might expect, Mistress. After all," Yolda sniffed disapprovingly, "these are designed for guardsmen to exercise in, not ladies of the court. Your feet are smaller than those of any guardsman I've ever supplied footwear for."

"Can I ask you to make me a pair that fits properly then, please? I can use these to start with, but I'm going to need something better for the future."

Alarm bells were now ringing in Yolda's head and her expression was beginning to harden.

"If you would return to the office with me, Highness, Mistress, I will add these things to your docket."

Carefully noting that Yolda hadn't agreed to make her a pair of boots Garia and Keren followed her back to her office with the footwear she had already given Garia. Once Yolda had updated Garia's file she regarded the two people standing in front of her desk.

"Mistress, I fail to see what purpose there could be in making you a pair of soft boots. The ones I have given you should be sufficient, surely, for whatever you intend? I cannot imagine that you will get sufficient use out of such footwear to require commissioning a special pair."

"Mistress Yolda, Captain Bleskin has permitted me use of the Small Practice Hall in order for me to exercise," Garia said carefully. "I clearly cannot exercise dressed like this." She swept her hands downwards, indicating the light summer gown. "Therefore, I've come to ask you to give me some more suitable clothing to wear, of which the boots will be a part."

"Exercise, Mistress?" Yolda's eyebrows rose. What did a lady of the court have to do with exercise? Women generally didn't exercise, not the way she understood the term to mean. Suddenly, she had a thought that horrified her. "You intend exercising with the guardsmen?"

"Oh, no, Mistress Yolda! No, I would have the hall to myself. Um, apart from my chaperones, of course."

Yolda regarded Garia with deep suspicion. The child was clearly out of control, her head filled with the mad ideas of the young. And what of the Prince, standing next to her? Was he her willing accomplice, besotted by her undeniable beauty? Her mouth pursed. How far did this wild scheme go? Clearly, as she said, she couldn't do anything physical dressed as she was. Perhaps that was a way to temper her impulses, keep her in delicate fabrics that would prevent her disrupting the smooth functioning of His Majesty's court.

"And what, Mistress, would you propose wearing, if your present gown is unsuitable? I do not understand what it is you intend."

"What I want, Mistress Yolda, is something similar to what the Prince here is wearing right now. A thin, loose-fitting tunic like his. If it is large enough to cover these," she indicated her breasts, "then it will be wide enough and short enough at the bottom to allow my legs freedom of movement. To cover my legs I would wear a pair of thin tights like those you gave me to climb the tower yesterday. Because I would not be able to walk the palace corridors dressed like that a separate skirt has been suggested, which I can take off when I arrive at the hall."

Yolda's face set instantly. What peculiar ideas this child had! Wherever did she get them from? What she asked for could never be permitted, it was outrageous! She should never have given in the last time the girl had come asking for unusual clothing. This nonsense had to be stopped now.

"Mistress, I cannot. The clothing you ask for is unsuitable for a lady of King Robanar's court. To ask a woman to wear a guardsman's tunic would be unseemly." She gave Garia a look of disdain. "No lady of breeding would wear such a garment. What you wear now is much more suitable for a young woman of your age."

Garia gritted her teeth. "But I cannot exercise dressed like this! That is, after all, why I asked for something else!" She felt the flash of heat through her body as her temper began to rise despite all she did to restrain it. "Why is what I asked for so difficult to provide? Why don't you just make me what I need?"

"I do not answer to you, Mistress, I answer to the King. It is my duty, as Mistress of the Wardrobe, to provide suitable clothing for the King and his subjects, and that is exactly what I intend to do, not waste my time and my stock filling the fantasies of a young woman. A guardsman's tunic?" She viewed Garia critically. "I've never heard such nonsense. No, Mistress, I'm sorry but I have to decline your request. You may take those boots, and I will provide you further proper garments and shoes as your position requires but what you ask for today is too much."

Garia was torn between dismay and fury. How dare the old bat refuse to serve her? But, inside, part of her was wondering if she had bitten off more than she could chew. After all, Mistress Yolda had been here so long, knew the ways of the palace and the court, perhaps the Mistress of the Wardrobe was right? Perhaps she was asking too much of the system, after all, she'd only been on Anmar a few days, who was she to go disturbing the natural order of things? She wanted to stamp her foot but realized just in time that it was just the kind of thing that a petulant seventeen Earth-year old would do when faced with a blunt refusal. She was better than that! Wasn't she?

Then she remembered the piece of parchment that Queen Terys had given her, her 'get out of jail free' card. Hope suddenly rising, she turned to Jenet, standing silently behind them holding a pair of boots in one hand and a pair of shoes in the other.

"Jenet. Can I have that document that Queen Terys wrote for me, please. You still have it?"

"Of course, Mistress." Jenet put down the footwear and pulled the parchment out of her purse, handing it to Garia. Garia unfolded it and handed it to Yolda.

"What's this?"

"Queen Terys thought that I might have problems with the palace staff," Garia explained. "She wrote this for me to present if I needed it."

Yolda read through the small document, her brow furrowing.

"This is entertaining," she said with a face free of expression. "Did you write it yourself? The signature looks nothing like that of the Queen." Yolda sat back and made to pull open a drawer of her desk to put the parchment into it.

"A moment, Mistress," Keren said. "If it is a document that purports to come from the Queen, then I would like to examine it." He held out his hand and Yolda reluctantly put the parchment into it. Keren read the document through carefully and then raised his eyes to meet Yolda's.

"This does appear to be my mother's writing and signature. You do know that Mistress Garia cannot read or write our language?" he told her. "She would be completely incapable of writing something like this. Mistress Garia is not of Alaesia, she comes from somewhere else entirely. She has not been in Palarand long enough to learn our letters."

Yolda switched her attention back to Garia. "You can't even read or write, eh? It baffles me how you managed to talk your way into the court in that case." She sniffed disdainfully. "Perhaps you should go back whence you came, Mistress, and leave Palarand to your betters."

Garia felt her temper flare again and she replied through gritted teeth. "The Prince did not say that I couldn't read or write, just that I couldn't read or write the local language. Are you so -" she very nearly managed to say stupid but just stopped herself in time. Losing her temper would only make things worse. She tried again. "Do you really think that every nation in Alaesia uses the same language and script as Palarand? You know that isn't true."

Yolda's face acknowledged the hit but it was clear that she considered Garia mad, frivolous or too young or a combination of all three. She turned on Keren.

"As for you, Your Highness, shame on you for being taken in by this young woman, who clearly has too much time on her hands. I shall not provide her wishes, neither shall I take orders from you since you are yourself not yet an adult. Now, if you will excuse me, I have more important matters to attend to."

Yolda stood, gave a very slight curtsey in Keren's direction and then stalked out of the office. Keren and Garia were left looking at the empty doorway with open mouths. The implication of Yolda's last statement was plain, Go away and play, children, the adults have work to do.

Eventually Keren said, "That was... unexpected." He turned to Garia. "We have to go and see Mother immediately. I thought Morlan was the one we would have most trouble with, I was obviously mistaken." He gestured at the door and Garia led the way out of the office.

On the way back through the corridor Garia began to crumble. The situation in Yolda's office had not gone at all according to plan and her sudden departure from their presence had left them both somewhat disturbed. On Earth Gary might have handled the woman differently but even he had known that it was sometimes difficult to get past people in entrenched positions of authority. Here, the added complication of being a female and the way a young woman might be treated in this society had acted to limit her reactions in a way that she hadn't expected and did not like. Unconsciously, her hand snaked out to find that of Keren as they walked through the corridors. Whatever their relationship might be, or become, there was no denying that right now she needed the touch of his hand to comfort her.

Back in the Queen's sitting room, Garia walked over to Terys, put her arms around her waist and rested her head on the Queen's bosom, the tears beginning at last now she was out of the public eye. Terys put her own arms around the upset girl and held her close.

"There, there, dear." Terys raised an eyebrow at Keren. "I see that Yolda was less than helpful?"

"That would be one way of describing it, Mother," he replied with a sigh. "It's Morlan all over again. Mistress Yolda doesn't know much about Garia so is trying to treat her as if she were one of my sisters. And then there's this." Keren held out the parchment. "Mother, did you write this? Mistress Yolda tried to confiscate it from Garia, saying that she had written it herself and forged your signature."

"She did what?" Terys took the parchment, verified that it was what she thought it to be, and handed it back. "I did give this to Garia, yes. Sit, both of you," she commanded. "Tell me everything that happened."

Garia and Keren retold their encounter with Yolda to an increasingly angry Terys.

"That woman," she fumed, "has gone too far this time. She's become set in her ways and thinks she knows how the palace should run better than we do. This time she is mistaken! I am Queen of Palarand, not her! Kenila, send someone to find Bleskin. Much though I would wish it otherwise, I don't care to tackle her without some support."

"Ma'am, the Captain told me before lunch," Garia said quietly, "that he didn't think he had enough men to take Mistress Yolda on."

Terys's eyes flashed. "Oh, he did, did he? That shows that Yolda has outlived her usefulness if even Bleskin is afraid to confront her. It's time we had some changes around here, don't you think?" Even though she was furious she still managed a quick reassuring smile for Garia. "After all, you bring changes to us yourself. Kenila? What are you waiting for?"

"Your pardon, Ma'am. The evening meal will be called very shortly, and you remember there is a funeral afterwards."

Derailed, the Queen sat back. "Oh. Oh, very well, we'll let Yolda simmer overnight and deal with her tomorrow morning." She explained to Garia. "We'll have to dress for mourning, and the funeral will take up much of the evening, I expect. We can't let a domestic matter interfere with an event like that, it would be disrespectful if nothing else. Yolda will keep, I have no doubt." She turned to Garia's maid. "Jenet, did Yolda provide Garia with a mourning gown or shall we have to find something else suitable?"

"There is a gown, Ma'am," Jenet replied. "I don't think Mistress Garia has yet tried it on for size, though."

"Then go and get Garia ready, would you? Keren, you'll need to change as well."

"Aye, mother."

~o~O~o~

In the Valley the color of mourning was gray, and the dress Garia wore down to the dining room was gray. It was full length, high necked, long sleeved, and on a fine summer's evening was extremely uncomfortable. Jenet had done her best, and the gown actually fitted, but there was just too much heavy material for it to allow her to keep cool. When she arrived she found that every other woman wore a similar gown and that made things partially more bearable but she knew that before she got to bed that night she would be dripping with sweat.

The men all wore gray knee-length tunics over black tights, Robanar and Keren wearing diagonal sashes in the royal colors, Bleskin and Merek with their captain's sashes but otherwise the entire party was without any adornments. The room was subdued as they sat at the table, very little of the normal light conversation taking place on this special evening.

As well as Robanar, Terys and Garia, this time Keren used his fork for the first time and nodded his approval at Garia for the difference it made to eating the meal. The food provided was otherwise just a normal evening meal. Garia had wondered whether there were specific foods served at funeral feasts - which it was apparent this was - but unlike certain Earth societies this was not the case. The only change came at the end of the meal when the Chamberlain stood and called for silence. Once he had everyone's attention Robanar got to his feet and addressed the room.

"We remember our brother Morlan, recently and violently taken from us. Until the end he was a true and loyal servant of the crown and we will miss his presence in the palace. There are some doubts about the final days of his life, no doubt we will resolve those in time, but for now let us just remember the man. I ask you all to drink to the memory of the Royal Questor, Morlan of Palarand."

Everyone in the room stood and raised their goblets, taking a mouthful before repeating his name, "Morlan."

"And now, Lords, Ladies, Masters, Mistresses, Freemen and Freewomen, let us process to the field where his pyre awaits."

Stepping between their chairs, Robanar took Terys's hand and led the way from the chamber. Keren took hold of Garia's hand and followed his father, Bleskin and Merek fell in behind them and then the rest of the diners followed the Captains of the Guard. Robanar took them along a different route to the rear of the palace and they emerged onto the field at the right-hand edge, the side where the guardsmen had been riding frayen earlier in the day. A broad path followed the ancient wall to the lower end of the field. The procession turned left there and came to the center, where an area paved with blackened stone held a funeral pyre.

The pyre was about shoulder height to Garia and was composed of rough logs in-filled with smaller wood offcuts. From the smell it seemed that fragrant oils had been emptied over the logs, or perhaps that was the smell of the wood itself. On the top Morlan was laid out in a clean suit of black, hands folded across his chest. At the head of the pyre stood an older man dressed in a full-length white garment with a gray stole over it, obviously a priest of some kind. Behind him stood two similarly-attired women. Once the procession had gathered around all sides of the pyre the priest stepped forward and spoke into the silence.

"The Maker made the world, and the Sun, the moons and the stars above. The Maker made the plants and creatures within the world including ourselves. We do not know the Maker's purpose, and we do not know if the Maker has ever visited the world since it was made. All we know is that the world is the Maker's creation, not ours, and we have a responsibility to live in the world in such a way that it is kept as the Maker may have originally intended.

"To that end we offer to return the body of our departed brother Morlan, who has no further use for it, so that the substance of which it is made can be used by the world again. We offer this body as a token of our responsibility and as the last act which our brother Morlan will make in the world. As his body turns to ashes we will remember the man he was and give thanks for his presence in the world."

He turned towards Robanar. "Sire, as the most senior person at this funeral and as the inheritor of the effects of this brother, I ask you: Is there any reason why this funeral should not proceed?"

Robanar replied formally, "There is not. We will first remember the man."

He came forward and spoke about Morlan, about his early life, when he had become a Questor, when he had been appointed the Royal Questor and come to live in the palace, details of his life. He was followed by Gerdas who told the crowd, in simple terms, some of the things that Morlan had done as a Questor and how he had improved life in Palarand. After him came his manservant who talked about Morlan the man. There were several other speakers who knew him, all spoke of both the good and the bad of the man who lay upon the pyre behind them.

Robanar asked Garia if she wanted to say something, as she had known him briefly, but she shook her head without saying a word. The whole ceremony was getting too much for her, and anyway she wasn't sure she could say anything good about him. She had barely recovered her memory before he had started worrying at her like a terrier. No, best let that episode fade quickly in everyone's memories.

Robanar bowed his head towards the priest and then said formally, "Let his body be returned to the world."

The priest turned to the woman on his left who handed him something small, then turned to the woman on his right. She bore a torch, a long piece of wood with a cloth wrapped around the end which Garia assumed was flammable. The priest then used what appeared to be the flint-and-steel fire-lighter the other woman had given him to light the torch, which he then took up himself.

The priest thrust the torch into the end of the pyre and it immediately caught alight. It seemed that even if it was the wood which gave the sweet scent there were other materials present which caused the wood to burn fiercely. Everyone took steps back as the flames grew stronger and the heat increased. Garia's discomfort grew as the heavy mourning gown grew sticky with sweat and she could feel it running down her legs. Finally, with the sun setting and the wood pile reduced to a heap of glowing ash, the mourners began to disperse. Some of them had come into the palace from points around the city and they would need to return home before it became too dark. Robanar led the royal party back the way they had come, into the palace and then to his parlor in the warren of rooms behind the Receiving Room.

Gerdas had joined the party as they settled into seats. The maids started serving everyone cool drinks as the King began speaking.

"That's that," he said, rubbing his hand through his hair. "It seems rough when we've only just come from the pyre but I'm not sure whether to be happy or sad now he's gone."

"That's uncharitable, dear," Terys tutted at him. "I know we have all had our difficulties with him, but he wasn't really all that bad a man, was he?"

Robanar sighed. "You're probably right, my dear. I just wish he hadn't been quite so awkward sometimes. Gerdas, you had a theory about his disappearance, I believe?"

"Sire, as I briefly mentioned before we sat down to dinner I may have some idea about what happened to Morlan in the days before his death. As you might suspect, it all revolves around the appearance of Mistress Garia here."

All eyes swung in her direction. She took a sip from her goblet to cover the confusion she felt.

"I don't blame her for anything that happened, Sire," he continued, "but her arrival was certainly the event which started everything off. At first, like many in the palace, he could not believe the story which Mistress Garia told, and he looked for simpler explanations, more rational explanations. I think he certainly believed to begin with that she was nothing more than someone intent on prising information out of the palace, but he could not understand just how someone so young could be used in that way or by whom. There was the matter of her belongings, as well, for which there was no logical explanation.

"Eventually Mistress Garia managed to convince him that her story was serious and he was forced to believe her. At that point I think his ideas changed as he realized that he had stumbled upon - if you would excuse the expression - a gold mine which he could use to improve his own standing among the other Questors. By keeping her confined to the palace he could pretend that the new discoveries and techniques which she told to him could be passed off as his own. It was after deciding to pursue that opportunity that he chose to come out into the city and visit some of his fellows, myself included.

"When he came to me he seemed excited by the new things he had apparently discovered, but I was immediately suspicious. Some of the mathematical equations he mentioned were astronomical ones and I knew that he hadn't given the study of the sky much thought in the past. When I questioned him about how he had discovered these equations he couldn't give me a straight answer and I more or less accused him of borrowing someone else's work. At that time I didn't know Mistress Garia existed, of course.

"I thought little more of it until after the attempt to kidnap Mistress Garia. It now seems to me that Morlan had been rebuffed by several of our colleagues besides myself that afternoon and his own greed, arrogance and vanity had led him to go to the Embassy of Yod. I have no idea what he told them but it seems apparent that the sudden appearance of the Resident at the palace that evening was his doing. They inspected Garia during the dinner and decided to make away with her. You all know what happened then."

Gerdas took a drink from his goblet and then resumed.

"He must have asked them to take him away as well, to Yod perhaps, because his part in the affair was bound to come out. We can only guess at what happened after that. Without Mistress Garia to provide them with information there was little reason to keep Morlan and he was, um, disposed of in such a way as to cast doubt on who was responsible and why. We will probably never know the exact details of what happened. We can't even be sure if he went willingly with them or not."

"Gerdas," Robanar said, "You're probably right. Acting on the suggestions of Mistress Garia here we have organized a search of the immediate area where his body was found but I can't imagine we'll find much. Margra has told me he was knifed from the rear, so it possible he never knew they were going to betray him." He sighed and took a drink. "It seems we have much to learn in the business of solving murders. Yet another strand of knowledge that Mistress Garia has made us aware of."

"Indeed, Sire. Yet it may have had a favorable result from our point of view, since it seems to me that the failure of their abduction attempt together with Morlan's murder will have made those of Yod more cautious. I think they will not wish to draw further attention to themselves in the near future given our existing suspicions of them."

Robanar nodded. "I agree, although the whole situation will need close but discreet monitoring for some time to come. Does that mean that you feel confident enough to return to your own mansion, then?"

"Sire, it does. There are certain observations I must make soon, before the sky becomes too cloudy and the rainy season sets in. I have spoken to Captain Bleskin and he has agreed to find some men to provide a house guard for my mansion." Gerdas gave a rueful grimace. "I think he's more concerned over the telescope he's letting me take than over my own safety, Sire, but the presence of his men will be welcome in any case."

"Good. We'll continue to follow up any clues of the murder but I don't expect much more to be explained." Robanar sat back and took a drink from his goblet as he considered the situation.

"Robanar, dear," Terys said into the momentary silence, "I think we have a problem with Mistress Yolda. I might need your support tomorrow."

"Ah? What has she done now?" His eyes turned towards Garia. "Let me guess, it involves Mistress Garia, doesn't it?"

"Yes, dear. I think Yolda's gone too far this time."

Terys explained what had happened earlier that afternoon with added detail supplied by Keren. Garia didn't feel like contributing, she felt that the whole thing had gotten blown out of proportion even though she recognized that things couldn't stay the way they currently were.

"Hmm. I wondered why Mistress Garia looked a little upset when she came down to eat," Robanar said at the end. "Of course, I don't have quite as much to do with Yolda as you do, Terys, but she's been in the palace for a very long time, hasn't she? What do you plan to do?"

"I'll confront her after breakfast, I think, possibly in here."

Robanar shook his head. "You might be better off in our sitting room, I think. Keep it private until you decide what you want to do with her. I'm listening to petitions in the Receiving Room tomorrow morning, if things get out of hand send a footman down and I'll work out something."

"Yes, dear. You do realize it might mean finding a new Mistress of the Wardrobe?"

"If that's what is necessary, then yes. I have every confidence in your judgment, dear, as I always have. Mistress Garia?" Robanar turned his attention to her. "I don't want you to think that you're a disruptive influence here." He frowned. "Hmm, actually, I suppose that is just what you are. What I mean to say is, that you are innocent in this matter, just as you are innocent of Morlan's death. All you have really done since you arrived in Palarand is expose underlying problems which needed exposing. Rest easy in your mind that we attach no blame to you for what has happened or may happen."

"Thank you, Sire." She smiled wanly. "It doesn't feel that way to me but thank you for your vote of confidence."

~o~O~o~

Garia sat on her bed, her nightdress tented over her knees and her arms wrapped around them. She was glad to be rid of the sweat-sodden mourning gown and hoped that she would not have to wear it again for a good long while. She had had a short standing bath in cold water to make herself clean but the night was too warm as yet for her to be really comfortable. She couldn't sleep anyway.

The argument with Mistress Yolda had shaken her, more than the disagreements with Morlan had done. With Morlan she knew that once she had convinced him that she knew what she was talking about his manner had changed. That was not going to happen with Yolda since the circumstances were different. Even if the Mistress of the Wardrobe were to be convinced of Garia's other-worldly origins it would not help, in fact it might make things worse. Yolda wanted things to stay exactly the way they had always been and other-worldly or not, she would resist any and all change with every weapon she could muster.

On the other hand, this was not a battle that Garia could afford to lose. Changes were going to come to Palarand and if she lost a single fight to conservative sentiment then it would make all the other coming battles that much more difficult. Assuming that she had the nerve to fight such battles, of course. Fortunately for Garia it seemed that Yolda had offended the Queen this time, and that might be enough to turn things around. Even so, if Yolda remained, she would still resist the changes that Garia knew she had to make in order to make progress.

Am I asking too much? Of Palarand? Of myself? I still don't know why I'm here. I still don't know why I'm a girl instead of a boy. There's more resistance to change than I expected, but that's probably human nature. I come from a place where change happens all the time and people are mostly comfortable with it. Not so much here, since things progress much more slowly. I'm just glad I've got the King and Queen - and Keren - on my side. They all trust me without really knowing what's going to happen in the future. I don't know if it's going to be enough, though.

Only time will tell.

That night was unusually warm and the dreams she had as she tossed and turned were really strange, although she remembered nothing when she woke each time. It was many hours before she slipped properly away.