Garia's bid to ride a frayen continues with a trip to the armory. The man she meets there provides her with a different kind of challenge... one in which she only partially successful. The royals meet to decide the fate of Garia's project... and Robanar finds himself unexpectedly outnumbered!

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) 2011-2012 Penny Lane. All rights reserved.

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"Astonishing," Rosilda said. "Completely astonishing." She turned to her right. "Captain Merek, I had no idea that Milady Garia could do such things! I imagined that she performed much gentler exercise."

"As you say, mistress," Merek answered. "I can assure you that what you see was a surprise to the guard as well. So small, and yet able to contest men twice her size and weight."

"So small, yes. Do the men make allowance for the difference in sizes, captain?"

"Just the reverse, mistress. Those men are trying their hardest, believe me. Milady Garia fights with such a ferocity that it is all they may do to withstand her. She is the proof that size is not all in conflict, just as a tiny fikt may sting the largest warrior."

Rosilda and Merek both flinched as Bessel rushed at Garia, only for her to sway, duck and sweep a leg around behind his knees to unbalance him, then pivot to stand over his body, one foot poised to stamp down on his throat. Bessel held flat palms out to indicate surrender, then extended a hand for Garia to help him to his feet again.

"See?" she said. "I let your own body do most of the work there. I know it can be difficult, especially in the heat of battle, but you must try not to be so quick to attack. Even when I'm not in a position to land a direct blow, your own weight and momentum gave me an opening to bring you down."

Bessel looked at Garia with a serious expression. "As you say, Teacher. I thought that if I was fast enough, you would not have time to react to me."

"Against anyone else in the room, you'd probably be right, Bessel. Unfortunately, the lessons I have learned are now so deep in my bones that my reaction was automatic. That's what you all should be aiming for, so that your body knows what to do before you even realize what's happening in front of you." She smiled at him. "You didn't do so badly, even so. Let's try that again, but slower, and I'll show you what you did, and what I did, and you can tell me how you might do things different next time."

"As you say, Teacher."

"Oh, and one other thing," she added, shaking a finger in mock severity. "Why did you end up flat on your back like that? You should have continued over and rolled back to your feet."

"But, Teacher!" Bessel protested. "Having my legs knocked away like that means I can't roll as we normally do. I fell flat on my back, there was no motion to roll with."

"You're right, Bessel. I'll show you how you might deal with that situation as well."

Merek and Rosilda both sat on the bleachers in the Self Defense Training Room watching the men kick, strike, tumble and roll. Beside them sat Merizel and the women's maids, ready waiting for the session to end. When it did, Garia called her men into a circle and gave them a small pep talk before dismissing them. She skipped over to the bleachers, her face covered with a sheen of sweat from the strenuous activity, her clothes likewise stained, a contented smile for her watchers. Jenet pulled out a towel and Garia used it to wipe her face, neck and hair before hanging it loosely round her neck, accepting then a leather bottle from which she took a long pull.

"Ah, that's better!" She grinned at Rosilda. "What did you think of today's exhibition, then?"

"I am almost speechless, milady. I did not know that a woman - any woman - could be capable of such activity. And you tell me this is a common custom in your own lands?"

"Oh, yes, Rosilda. Both men and women can take part in most sports on Earth. Of course, men will always be physically bigger then women, and usually stronger, but we are more flexible and usually have more endurance than them." Garia took another pull at the water bottle. "There are sports men mainly play, and sports women mainly play, but sports like you have seen here today can be done by anyone."

"You say sport, milady. Does this mean that you do not consider this to be a warlike activity, then? You do this for pleasure?"

Garia thought. "When you look at most sports close enough, you'll probably find they are based on some kind of warfare. What I do here is useful to women because it helps them defend themselves when unpleasant incidents happen. The men, of course, will use it to defend their King more efficiently."

"As you say, milady," Merek agreed. "Not, perhaps on the field of battle, but within the corridors and chambers of the palace, this method of subduing wrongdoers is one that I am definitely in favor of. I particularly liked the demonstration you gave earlier of disarming a man possessed of a knife. It seemed so obvious once shown."

Garia nodded her head to the captain. "Like many things, captain, only obvious once you've seen it done." Merek nodded acknowledgment. "Are you satisfied by what you have seen so far?"

"Thank you yes, milady." He gave her a small smile. "I am glad that your country is so far away, for one reason only, and that is that we shall not have to meet them in battle. With respect, you are still but a child, if I chanced against those of your armies I would surrender immediately."

"We're not so different than yourselves, captain. We fight, yes, but only when we're threatened. Ah!"

Keren arrived and Jenet promptly doled him out a towel with which he started vigorously rubbing his damp hair.

"I liked that trick with the knife," he said to Garia. "Obvious, really." He grinned at Merek. "We'll go off and get changed now, captain, and get out of your way."

"As you wish, Highness. I shall expect to see you in the larger room this afternoon, where we shall no doubt be witness to some further unlikely events."

Garia rolled her eyes as Keren grinned back. "If you say so, captain."

On the way back through the corridors to change for lunch, Rosilda asked Garia, "I understand now your need for some means of retaining your breasts firmly in position, milady. I did not realize quite how hard you would work this morning. Was your 'sports bra' successful, do you think?"

"It was quite good, actually, Rosilda. There's a little chafing here," she pointed to the front of her armpit, "but that's about all I've noticed so far. We'll be able to have a better look when I've stripped this tunic off. I'm impressed by the speed you can make these things."

"There's almost nothing to them, milady. Accurate cutting and sewing, yes, but there is so little material it does not take long to put one together." Rosilda hesitated, then turned to Keren. "Highness, we do not disturb you with this talk of women's underclothing?"

"I have two older sisters, Rosilda. While the matters you discuss do not interest me, neither do they embarrass me. Please continue."

"A question I would ask then, milady. I did not appreciate why you needed a detachable skirt. While I understand the difference it makes to your exercise, you would not normally be dressed in that fashion, would you? Would this affect your actions, say if you had to fight someone while dressed as a lady of the court?"

"You're right, Rosilda, and that was the situation I faced during the festival, if you recall. It's one of the matters I was going to talk about with you sometime, if that is okay."

"At your convenience, milady. It seems I have been given special permission to make... experimental garments at your suggestion. Returning to your detachable skirt, is there not a possibility that the men are affected because they can see your legs? How can you wrestle with them, in such a proximity, dressed as you were?"

Garia shrugged. "I'm dressed more or less exactly the same as they are, once I've taken the skirt off. My tunic is a slightly different shape and length, of course, but my tights and boots are exactly what the men are issued with."

Keren added, "It was a little difficult for the men, at first. But once they realized that she was serious about her work, they focused on that and the way she was dressed became unimportant." He grinned. "It was the same for me. And the fact that she chooses to dress as they do is taken as a considerable compliment by the guard. There is not a man in the entire guard who would harm her, and most would protect her with their lives."

Garia blushed. "Keren, you exaggerate."

"Do you think so? I'm not so sure."

"And I see now why you keep your hair cut short, milady," Rosilda continued. "I thought at first it was just a custom of your own people, but watching you tumble today made me realize how awkward it might be if your hair was long, like the other ladies of the court."

Garia shrugged again. "Yes and no, Rosilda. If your hair is long, there are styles one can use to keep it out of the way. Like a pony-tail, for example."

Blank looks all round. Well, of course, if they don't have horses, they won't have ponies either, and I've seen no animal so far with a tail which is like that of a horse.

She smiled apologetically. "Sorry! You wouldn't know that word. I'll demonstrate another time, you might know what I mean by a different name."

"As you wish, milady," Rosilda said. "I must say... to begin with, the short hair style looked strange, but we have become used to it now. I think it really suits the shape of your face. It makes you look even more cute, if that were possible."

Cute? Me cute? I liked looking at girls that looked cute. I'm not sure how I feel about being cute myself. Does that make it easier or harder for me? One reason I decided to cut my hair this way was so I'd be different, not the same as the other ladies in the court. Huh, that doesn't seem to have worked, does it?

"Here we are," Keren said as they reached the household corridor. "I'll see you all at lunch."

Garia entered her suite, and watched by Rosilda, began stripping out of her tunic.

"Hmm. Yes, milady. We need to increase the curve just here and here. If your breasts were larger, then it would not be necessary, I think, but of course these other pieces would need altering instead. Can I see the back? Milady, you are bruised!"

"What? Oh, no, Rosilda, that's all right. That happened the first day I rode Snep. I asked him to stop suddenly and he was a little too enthusiastic."

"Oh, I see. As I understand it, the men fall from frayen quite frequently. Now, let me see. The adjustment buckles have left small marks on your back, I'll mention it to Fulvin and see if there is a way of adjusting the shape. Let me make a note of those changes."

"Do you want to take it away with you?"

"Thank you, milady, no. If Jenet can return it once it has been washed, I can alter it then. For now, I will merely adjust the pattern and make you another ready for tomorrow morning."

"You know you'll be spending part of the afternoon with us out the back again?"

"Of course, milady. I will join you at the eighth bell."

~o~O~o~

The buildings that housed the makers of arms and armor were on the left hand side of the field at the rear of the palace. Although one could walk across from the Large Training Room, another route allowed them access without getting wet. It was, of course, still raining. Inside, a sequence of rooms held forges and furnaces, anvils and grindstones, most of which were in use by metalsmiths making or repairing knives, swords, arrow heads, spears, body and frayen armor and numerous other objects of use when waging war.

Right at the back of the building, the lower part of the end wall hinged up to allow the heat from the furnaces to escape. This effectively provided an awning which protected the opening from the pouring rain, and working at an anvil under the awning was the largest man Garia had ever seen. He didn't look tall, even though he towered over everyone else in sight, but that was probably because he was as wide as he was tall. His chest and arms were immense, heavily muscled from the continuous work at forge and anvil. His skin was deeply tanned from years spent working stripped to the waist, and his upper body and arms were covered with thick, coarse hair.

Oh... My... God. Just look at that body! I've never seen anyone so big before! We-ll, maybe some lard-butt in town, but not this guy! There's not an ounce of fat anywhere I can see, and boy, can I see a lot! He's built just like Hercules, and I'm not talking Kevin Sorbo here!

She eyed the magnificent figure as he turned and noticed the party enter. The man was naked except for a short, heavily stained leather kilt and short boots.

No, not Hercules... not in a forge making weapons. This man is Vulcan. My God, indeed!

He saw their party approach and stood up, putting his tools and the piece he had been working on down into safe places.

Merek introduced them. "Master Haflin, may I introduce Milady Garia, Baroness of Blackstone, and her secretary Milady Merizel."

"Milady Garia, Milady Merizel, welcome." Haflin smiled down at them. "Your Highness, Captain. What can I do for you all?"

"Milady Garia requires some minor work from your armory, master," the captain told him. "I don't know how much you know of Milady's activities?"

Haflin broke into a big smile. "I know all about Milady Garia, Merek. My men speak of little else these days. What is she supposed to be doing now?"

Merek bristled. "Milady Garia, in her own lands, is an experienced rider of their own animals. Since her arrival in Palarand she has expressed a wish to ride a frayen, and these last few afternoons she has shown us that she is perfectly capable of doing so. She is accustomed to the use of a different kind of stirrup than our own, and she wishes a pair made."

Haflin shrugged. "She should speak to the saddler, then. Leatherwork is his domain, not mine."

"The stirrups I want made will be metal, Master Haflin," Garia said, speaking for the first time. "They are hung from the saddle by a strap."

"Do I understand, milady, that you ride a frayen as a man does?" Haflin's eyebrows rose. His attention switched to Keren. "Highness, does the King know of this desire?"

"He does, Haflin," Keren replied shortly. "The stirrups are another matter, though. If they prove to be useful to the guard, we will commission sets for them regardless of Milady Garia's activities."

Haflin flushed. "I meant no disrespect, Highness. Were my information to come from a small girl, without the approval of the King, naturally I would be skeptical. What is it you wish me to make, then, little lady?"

Garia gritted her teeth but held her anger inside. "Have you a chalk-board, Master Haflin?" she asked.

"This way, milady."

He led the way to a board on the wall, covered with notations presumably about the work in progress. Frowning, he found an area with less-important writing and wiped it clear with a massive hand. Turning, he offered a piece of chalk to Garia, saying, "Will that be sufficient, milady?"

"It will do, Master Haflin."

The board was so high up she had difficulty reaching the cleared area, but she sketched what she wanted, surprising Haflin by providing plan, side and perspective views.

"On my world these are made of steel or brass, master. Iron would be good enough. I have even heard of them being made of wood, but of course wood will wear too readily."

"Your drawings are very clear and detailed, milady," he replied, nodding thoughtfully. "These seem simple enough to make. I shall ask one of my journeymen to provide a pair for you. The size is not clear. Should these be made to accommodate your own boots?"

"No, master," Garia shook her head. "Make them big enough to take the boots of most men in the guard, if you please. There's no point making them to individual sizes." She looked speculatively at Haflin's huge boots. "Except maybe for your own mount, of course."

He grinned back at her. "As you say, milady. Tell me, what advantage are these... metal stirrups supposed to give over those we have been using for many years?"

"They are more comfortable to your feet, Master Haflin, and cause less wear to boots and leather. The bottom of your boot is flat, after all, and not rounded the way your stirrup loops would have them become."

"As you say, milady. These should not take long to produce for you. Shall they be given to Captain Merek when ready?"

"If you will, Master Haflin."

"Master Haflin," Keren said, as Garia began to think they had finished there, "Since we are now here, it occurs to me that there may be something else that you might do for Milady Garia. She will soon have need for training blades. Do you have any of a suitable size we might examine?"

Haflin stared at Keren, then roared with laughter. Garia stared stonily back, aware that his reaction indicated yet another obstacle to be overcome. Eventually he calmed down and looked at Keren, the grin still wide on his face.

"Highness, forgive me, you cannot be serious! I can just about understand that she may ride frayen, but placing a sword in the hands of a small girl is just fantasy."

"Haflin, it is no fantasy," Keren said stiffly, his face getting darker. "She will soon have the need of a sword. Shall you provide her with one?"

Haflin's face swiftly cleared and he looked steadfastly at Keren. "Highness, I shall not. I am the King's Armorer, and I provide arms and armor for the King and his Guard. I do not make toys for children."

Oh, no, here we go again. How am I going to convince this great lump of a man-mountain that I know what I'm doing?

Come to that, do I know what I'm doing?

Shouldn't I be leaving my protection to all these good men who are insisting on looking after me? I'm half their size, what good would I be in an all-out fight, especially with weapons I'm unfamiliar with?

"Haflin, you try my patience," Keren said. "You know little of Milady Garia's abilities. This is not true of the King. Now, do you wish me to disturb him at his business, so that he may order you directly to provide what is needed?" He bared his teeth. "And, I personally resent being told I am a child. You may presently be the King's Armorer, but that may not always be true."

Haflin's eyes glinted. "Highness, do you threaten me?"

"Haflin, do you insult me?" Keren shot back. "You are making judgments based on rumor and hearsay, you do not understand the truth, you have not seen her in action. Even if she will not be wielding a sword each day in defense of her King, she must become familiar with one in case the need should arise."

Haflin stared at Keren, trying to weigh his words. Garia watched the pair, the red mist slowly rising. This time, rather than letting it take her over, she channeled it into a resolve.

"Oh, this is ridiculous!" she said, loudly, and marched off to the side wall where a number of weapons were stood waiting repair or refurbishment. She grabbed a training spear, the head wobbling as she picked it up, obviously loose. Reversing it, she placed the tip on the hard-packed dirt floor and then leaned on it with the heel of her boot. The loosened spear head came off the shaft with a crack as the rivet split the worn wood, and she kicked it out of the way before advancing on Haflin, the shaft held in both hands.

"Defend yourself!"

Haflin's eyebrows rose all the way, and then he grinned at Garia.

"You cannot be serious, little lady!"

Garia growled at that, and, advancing one leg, suddenly rammed the shaft straight into Haflin's stomach before skipping back. He recoiled in amazement, while all the others scattered back.

"I said," she ground out, "defend yourself!"

She whipped the shaft back, spun it and held it ready, quarterstaff-style. Haflin's eyes widened as he considered the situation. She was serious! But, what could he do? He appealed to Keren.

"Highness? You cannot seriously expect me to fight a tiny girl like that?"

The feral grin he got in response from Keren shocked him completely. So did the Prince's next words.

"I've never seen Garia fight with a spear stick before," he told Haflin, "but I've no doubt in her abilities, none at all. Defend yourself, Master Armorer Haflin."

Completely at a loss, Haflin glanced around the immediate area, trying to decide what to do. Etiquette of a duel, for it was plain that this was going to be a duel, meant that he could choose any weapon equal or lesser than that his opponent used. Eventually, he strode over to the pile of weapons and picked up another spear. Holding the shaft in one massive hand, and with the spear tip completely enveloped in the other, he made a convulsive twist. There was a crack and the tip came clean away.

He flung it to one side and held up the shaft, unsure what to do. This was a style of fighting he had never experienced, although he had heard that it was used occasionally, perhaps by travelers. It might have been the kind of weapon farm hands would use to settle minor disputes, perhaps. Even so, how could someone perhaps a quarter his own weight and so small expect to make any impression on him?

Garia darted in, her staff twirling, at the last minute letting her left hand slide along it towards her right as she swung it against his right knee, snapping it away before he could somehow snag it off her. Haflin winced at the shock and skipped back, now fully alert. He held his staff with two hands as he had seen Garia do, and cautiously advanced ready for her next move. She swung her staff to the left and he managed to block it, the two lengths of wood meeting with a bang before she let go her right hand, allowing his staff to slide off. She suddenly pulled her staff back and swung up and over, the iron ferrule striking Haflin on his left shoulder.

Haflin could barely keep up, but he was a fast learner. He discovered that he couldn't get to Garia by brute force, because she always angled her staff to deflect his blows. He couldn't predict which end she would use either, and he was forced to merely defend himself without attempting to strike back. He wasn't sure what would happen if he did manage to hit his small opponent, since injuring her didn't seem like a good idea, but in any event it seemed unlikely that would ever happen.

The clash of wood had brought spectators from the rest of the workshop, all gathered at a safe distance from the proceedings. Some looked astonished at the apparent mismatch, one or two had witnessed Garia's duel with Jarwin and proceeded to correct their fellows' mistaken assumptions. Keren looked on with interest, since he had heard Garia describe quarterstaffs previously and wanted to see what was involved. Merek's emotions swung between anxiety over Garia's safety and an unexpected fatherly pride over the things she seemed able to accomplish.

It dawned on Haflin after a while that Garia was playing with him. He hadn't touched her at all. Despite his best efforts, she had managed to touch him - sometimes painfully, despite his strength and fitness - on both knees, both shoulders and both elbows plus a jab at one of his thighs. Her face showed the same concentration as it had when the bout had started. Eventually he decided that he had had enough and backed away, flinging the staff to the floor.

"Enough, milady!" he growled. "You have made your point. Painfully so." He stared at her with a kind of wonder. What kind of people were hers, that even the girl children were trained as warriors? "And now, perhaps, I shall make mine."

Garia brought her staff to the vertical and made a bow at Haflin. He nodded a response and turned, stamping off through the crowd of onlookers. The glance he gave them made them slink away back to their appointed tasks. The party looked at each other, wondering what Haflin intended.

"A brave display, milady," Merek murmured. "I thought Master Haflin expert in all weapons, it seems I was mistaken."

"It won't take him long, captain," she replied. "Someone like that doesn't take well to coming off second best at anything."

"As you say, Garia," Keren said, but anything further was cut off by Haflin's return.

In his hand he had a bunch of sheathed swords, which he put down with a clatter on a bench to the side. He spread them out and selected one, tossing it to Garia. She caught it, but it was so heavy she could barely keep both ends off the floor at once.

"That is my own sword, milady," Haflin said. "You could not wield such a weapon, it is impossible. You are just not big enough. Give it to His Highness, try this one instead."

Keren gave a grunt as he took the weight of that huge sword, but Garia's attention was on the next one to arrive. This one seemed not so heavy, and she looked down at the jeweled hilt and the silver wire decorating the scabbard.

"Aren't you going to draw it, milady?" There was an edge to Haflin's voice, but there was humor in it as well. He was now on safe ground and apparently enjoying what was to come.

Garia took the hilt in her right hand, the top of the scabbard in her left, and started pulling. To her chagrin she found that her arms were simply not long enough to get the sword out of the scabbard! She looked up at Haflin in dismay.

"Now you begin to understand, milady," Haflin said. "I do not intend to be cruel, but a sword short enough for you to draw easily would be insufficient in battle. Here, return that one to me and I shall find you one more suitable to your size."

She handed the sword back, hilt first, which earned her a nod of approval, and in return he gave her a smaller sword.

"That was a sword I made for the Prince when he was much younger," he told her. "It was his first real sword, when he began his training with the guard. You use a much larger one now, don't you, Highness?"

This sword came free at the first attempt, and it was obvious to Garia that it was shorter than she might have wished it to be. It was disturbingly light in weight as well. Holding the scabbard behind her in her left hand, she gently began moving the sword around to find its balance. Haflin's eyes flickered as he realized that she was familiar with the weapons, but his opinion of her had already undergone a change following the staff fight.

She took a stance or two and flicked the sword about in what she hoped looked authentic positions. In truth, the use of swords during her martial arts sessions had been cursory, just enough to familiarize everyone with them and to use them if they came to hand, not very likely of course in the modern United States. Of course, she was not now in the modern world any longer, and she had hoped to learn enough from the people around her to hold her own.

Haflin's eyes narrowed. "Hmm. Milady, I may have been too harsh on you, misjudging your reach. We may be able to find a slightly larger sword that you would be able to draw. However, even if we did so there would be another obstacle to you wearing such a weapon. If you would permit me to demonstrate?"

He took the swords off Garia and Keren and lightly tossed them back on the bench before lifting a leather strap from a hook on the wall. Threading this through the top of the scabbard of the small sword he came to Garia and buckled it around her waist.

"Hmm! Such a tiny waist, milady." He grinned at her from where he squatted. Even bent down he was higher than she was. "You would need a sword belt specially made, I think, but this will demonstrate the problem."

The problem was that the sword dragged along the ground, even with Garia holding the slack of the belt with her right hand to pull the scabbard as high as it would go. Her heart sank. This was ridiculous, she was just too short! Yet again she wished that it had been a boy that had arrived here, and yet again she wondered whether her problems would have been greater, not less. Reluctantly, she unbuckled the belt and handed it back to Haflin.

"I admit I was wrong about you, milady," he said. "It seems I must pay more attention to what is happening within the palace, and less to the rumors out here in the smithy. However, I regret that I will not be able to fit you with a sword, at least not in the style we use them here in the Valley. Do you not wear such a sword in your own land, milady? Since you appear familiar with them, how are they hung from the body, for one of such a size as yourself?"

"It's... complicated, Master Haflin. On Earth, the world I come from, I had a somewhat larger body than I do here." Haflin's eyes widened. "The problem I have here would not exist back there. I had hoped... never mind." She straightened, then gave him a curtsey. "Master Haflin, thank you for your time. Perhaps we had better leave you to your work."

Haflin gave a big bow with a flourish. "Thank you, milady. I have learned something new today, and I hope that I may learn more in future, with your permission. And the items for your frayen, I will get them started immediately. Highness, Captain, with your leave."

The party turned to go, and then Garia turned back.

"Master Haflin, it occurs to me that you look familiar, although I know we have never met before. Might you be related to... Guildmaster Hurdin, by any chance?"

Haflin's grin broke out again. "Why yes, Lady Garia! He is my little brother. It is from him that I have heard much about yourself." A frown came. "Though, from what I have experienced here today, it seems he knows less of you than perhaps I believed he did." The grin returned. "I will have much to say about the matter, next time we meet!"

~o~O~o~

Once the party had made their way through the corridors to the Large Training Room, they found Robanar and Terys waiting for them. They all bowed or curtseyed as appropriate and then Robanar explained why they were there.

"Milady Garia, it seems that events move with speed whenever you are involved. Captain Bleskin informs us that you have a natural affinity with our frayen, and we have come to observe the results for ourselves. Will our presence disturb your practice today?"

Garia looked at the dozen or so retainers, servants and maids who accompanied the royal couple.

"Sire, I do not believe so. I would ask that your party keep from making any loud noises, though. This is only the third day that I will have worked with Snep, and he may be nervous with so many extra people in here."

"As you say, Garia. We will keep ourselves near the doorway and content ourselves with watching you."

"Thank you, Sire."

The room was much brighter this afternoon. At the previous session the central candelabra had been lit, this time all five were aglow, making the room seem different than before. True to their word, Robanar and Terys kept their party against the wall as Garia walked slowly into the middle of the room. In a corner near the outside doors a small group of her guards stood. No, cancel that, Garia realized that all were present for the first time. Obviously word had spread about the King's appearance today. Standing with her guards stood Snep, his reins held by Feteran. Stopping in the center of the room, Garia called softly to the guardsman she considered her de facto second-in-command.

"Feteran! Just drop Snep's reins, would you? Let's see what he will do."

Feteran dropped the reins in such a way that the frayen noticed the occurrence. His head swung about, trying to work out whether this was just a mistake or something else. Finally, puzzled, he turned his head and looked straight at Feteran, who just grinned back at the animal.

"Off you go, boy!" he said quietly.

The frayen's legs began to tremble. For several years he had been a beast of the Royal Guard, and he had become used to being treated in a certain way. Now, for a short period, he had been treated differently and he was uncertain what to do. Finally Garia called softly to him.

"Snep! Come."

His ears pricked up and he located Garia in the middle of the room. The strange one, who smelled different! Slowly he walked forwards, his head swaying slightly from side to side. As he approached Garia she turned slightly so that they were no longer face to face. He gently nuzzled her, reassuring himself with the familiar smell. She opened a hand and there was a small sweet vegetable treat, which he promptly and very carefully took from her.

She spoke quietly to him. He did not understand a word of what she said, but the tone was relaxing, reassuring. His head came up to face hers, they looked full into each other's eyes, and then he turned and looked at the saddle on his back. If she sat there, he would look after her and she would look after him. Would she do it?

"Good boy, Snep."

Garia went to the side and made her undignified way up and into the saddle. Once settled and with the inadequate skirt deployed as best as she could, she started Snep walking around the room. When they passed the royal party she spoke quietly to him and he carried on smoothly. She clucked and they moved up to a trot, the familiar rhythm coming easily to both of them. She eased into the simple series of exercises she had thought up two days before.

Robanar watched the show with interest. That girl can ride better than I can. I'll rephrase that, almost everybody can ride better than I can these days. I don't get out enough any more. That girl can ride better than I could at the same age. She makes it look so effortless! But, if she's been riding maybe eight years one might expect that. Still, I'm going to find it very hard to refuse her if I have to. In terms of ability, I do not think I can refuse her. The real question, then, is the effect on society as Bleskin suggested. It doesn't matter as far as I'm concerned, the girl is going to make so many changes this one is not necessarily that important. As always, I'll have to leave matters like this to Terys's judgment.

"Terys?" he murmured. "Your opinion?"

"Wait till she finishes, dear. This is fascinating."

They watched Garia's display in silence then. She wheeled and trotted, backed and walked as though she had ridden frayen since birth. She even got Snep up into a canter for a brief period, limited as she was by the dimensions of the big room. Finally, after a slow walk round the perimeter to cool both of them down, she reined Snep in before the royal party and ducked her head, a huge smile on her flushed face.

"Milady Garia," Robanar said warmly, "that was as good a display of ridership as I have seen lately. Shall you dismount?"

"Sire."

She slid out of the saddle, and then, ignoring the royal party, spoke quietly into Snep's ear and fed him another tidbit before turning back to the King.

"You have a natural ability, it seems, dear," Terys told her.

Garia gave a wry smile. "Not so natural, ma'am. Just years of practice, and I'm glad I started early. I spent a lot of time falling off when I first learned to ride. These animals," she patted Snep's neck, "aren't so different than horses, now I've had a chance to compare. And I'm used to treating them a different way than you do here, ma'am. It doesn't take much, but it makes a big difference to how they treat us in the end."

"Bleskin?" Robanar said. "Merek? Are you two taking note of what she's doing?"

"Aye, Sire, we are," Merek replied. "There is very little difference, it is true, but we are always willing to make changes when that will improve our effectiveness. Because of Milady Garia's size and... ahem! shape, she will require a specially made saddle. It also seems that her people use a different kind of stirrup. We have this afternoon visited Master Haflin to order a pair."

Robanar frowned. "Haflin? Should you not have consulted the saddler?"

"These new stirrups will be made of iron, Sire. And, once they are made, Milady Garia has suggested that a different placement will make for safer travel and more control over the animal. We will experiment when we have them, Sire."

"Very good, Merek. Carry on."

"Sire." Merek hesitated. "While we were at Master Haflin's forge, there was a disagreement concerning a blade for Milady Garia. In the course of the argument, Milady Garia gave us a display of a new fighting technique, this time using only the shafts of spears."

"Another way of fighting?" Robanar's raised an eyebrow as he turned to Garia. "What have you been doing now, milady?"

She grinned impudently back at him. "Sire, he had not seen me in action, and did not believe that my request for a sword was serious. I had to show him that I was serious. I believe that I succeeded in my attempt, Sire."

"You will no doubt give us a demonstration of this... stick-fighting, I take it?"

"Of course, Sire. We call them quarter-staffs. Once I have trained someone else how to do it, that is."

Robanar nodded. "When you are ready, Milady Garia. And did you procure a sword while you were there?"

Garia's face fell. "No, Sire. It seems I am too small to carry one big enough to fight with. I do not have an answer to that problem, Sire."

"Not to worry, dear," Terys soothed. "There will always be men with you who can wield a sword on your behalf. With so many other accomplishments to your name, to miss one would not be such a tragedy."

"No, ma'am. But..." Garia hesitated. These people didn't have the same kind of drive she did. Was that an American thing? Was it that essential that she could use a sword? She sighed. Perhaps the Queen was right. "As you say, ma'am."

"Have you finished here, milady?" Robanar asked her.

"Yes, Sire."

"Then, once you have cleared away and tidied yourself up, perhaps you would present yourself at my parlor. There is time for us to discuss this before dinner. Keren, Bleskin, Merek? That includes you."

"My dear," Terys added. "We shall also require Mistress Rosilda, who I see standing there. Garia, you did want her here this afternoon to discuss riding attire, did you not?"

"Yes, ma'am, I did."

"Then I think it might be better if we met in my sitting room, don't you, dear?"

Robanar shrugged. To him one room was much the same as another.

"Then we shall see you all presently."

~o~O~o~

Rosilda, having been taken into palace service at a young age, had very little experience of frayen, so she stayed with Garia a while in the Large Training Room discussing possible solutions to her clothing problem, always assuming Garia was given the go-ahead to ride. Keren, while the girls talked, had crossed the room and spent the time describing Garia's encounter with Haflin to her guardsmen, ably assisted by Captain Merek. Finally, everyone dispersed, Keren, Garia, Merizel and Rosilda heading for the household suite so that Keren and Garia could change for their meeting. Finally they took chairs in the Queen's Sitting Room in front of the waiting monarchs.

"Let's get started, then," Robanar began. "We're here to either permit Milady Garia to ride frayen or to refuse her. If we permit her then it follows that she will eventually be seen in public, and the consequences will be that other women will also wish to ride frayen. Now, women do not normally ride frayen except in chairs, and so there might be a great public outcry when they see her, or others like her, riding as a man would. If we consider that the outcry would become damaging to society, then I would be forced to deny her the right to ride as a man does. Bleskin, now that you have seen her ride, what is your opinion?"

"Sire, the fears I originally had are completely unfounded. Milady Garia informs me that any woman would refrain from riding when Kalikan called, or at the very least take suitable precautions. There are details to be considered concerning saddles, stirrups and suchlike but these are only practical matters. I cannot advise what might happen when she is seen in public, Sire, but from the way I saw her ride today I have few fears for what society might say."

"And you, Merek?"

"Sire, I can only echo Captain Bleskin's words. I only wish some of our guardsmen rode as well as milady does."

Robanar gave one of his characteristic grunts. "She tells us she has had many years of practice, Merek." He nodded thoughtfully. "I am of the same mind as yourselves. Keren, anything to add?"

"No, father. Captain Bleskin did point out that, since the area around Blackstone is rough country, it might be an advantage to be able to travel by pack animal. In such a case it might help if Garia could ride."

"And what of the other women?" Terys asked him. "Do you suggest that even Jenet should learn to ride?"

Keren shrugged helplessly. "No, mother. We had no answer to that puzzle."

"Ma'am?" Jenet spoke up. "If I may?"

"Yes, Jenet?"

"There is no reason why those of us who do not wish to learn to ride, or who cannot for whatever reason, might still travel by using the chairs as we always have done, ma'am."

Keren slapped a hand to his forehead. "Obvious!" He turned towards Garia. "Did you reach that conclusion as well?"

"I hadn't, Keren, no. I'm sure someone would have reminded us, though."

Robanar cleared his throat to attract attention. "It seems that in your own minds you have already decided that Garia shall be permitted to ride. Very well, I shall give you my approval, but I must caution you all that this could be a sensitive subject within the city." He gave a hard smile. "Even a King may change his mind from time to time. Garia, how shall you be attired, should you ride in public?"

Garia flushed. "Uh, Sire, I have spoken today with Rosilda and we have come up with a few ideas. Do you really want us to discuss them now?"

Terys broke in smoothly. "That will be all right, dear. Let the men finish and then we can talk clothing amongst ourselves." Did Garia imagine it, or was there a twinkle in the Queen's eye?

"As you wish, ma'am."

"Bleskin, Merek," Robanar asked, "are you two happy for Garia to exercise her frayen with the other guardsmen?"

Merek grinned. "Aye, Sire, we are. Perhaps some of them may even learn from her. I look forward to the end of the rains when we may practice outside on the field."

"Then," Robanar said, turning his attention to Garia, "I must insist that you wear some sturdy headgear, milady. What is contained within that pretty little head of yours is too precious for it to be lost by some stupid accident. Do I make myself clear?"

"You do, Sire," Garia said. "Rosilda and I had already thought about the matter."

"Good," Robanar said, nodding. "If everyone is content, then I think we have wasted enough of Bleskin and Merek's time, don't you? You are dismissed, gentlemen."

"Thank you, Sire."

The two captains rose, saluted, and left. Robanar and Keren stood, ready to follow them, but Keren hesitated when they reached the door.

"Father," he said, stopping, "When Garia first rode Snep, two days ago, Bleskin made a strange comment. He said that only my mother could have handled a beast as well as she did. How is that possible? I didn't know any women rode as men do."

"What's that, son? I don't know what you're talking about." Robanar turned towards the Queen. "Terys? Explain, if you can."

Terys sighed, but there was a smug look on her face. "Sit down, dear, there are things I have to tell you."

The two men resumed their seats, and then Terys began.

"Do you remember, dear, when Keren was about eight, we went to stay with Gilbanar and Vivenne in their drafty old castle? You and Gilbanar took Keren and Terinar off hunting in the mountains for nearly two weeks, if you recall, leaving Vivenne and I at home with Elizet, Malann and Korizet."

"When Keren was eight, you say? Oh, yes! Gilbanar bagged the biggest zinakh I have ever seen! Yes, I remember, what about it?"

"Bleskin couldn't go, he'd injured his ankle, that's why he remembered what had happened. Well, dear it's like this. We all rode frayen, not just within the castle, but for a few marks round about, as well."

"All of you?" Robanar blanched. "Even the girls?"

"Yes, dear. There weren't enough chairs, but we didn't want to use them anyway. It seems that for some reason, frayen respond much better to the voice of a woman than to that of a man. So I'm not surprised that Garia can handle Snep so well, though I suppose having all that riding experience helped. I have always thought that women should ride in the same way as a man, but apparently custom in this part of the Valley prevents it. So, now that Garia has arrived, perhaps we have an opportunity to bring matters into the open, so to speak." Terys shifted her gaze. "Merizel, you have also ridden, I believe."

"Me?" Merizel blushed. "Uh, ma'am, actually I have ridden frayen, when I was much younger. There have been two floods when it was impossible to ride our lands any other way. It was not something that anyone wanted to make widely known, though. When we were all dressed up in our waterproof clothing it was easy to disguise ourselves."

Of course! In the rains, everyone looks exactly the same, don't they? No wonder Merizel had gotten away with it.

Robanar looked angry. "Is there any woman in Palarand who hasn't ridden a frayen?" The maids, as one, all curtseyed. Robanar glared at them. "I meant - never mind." He accused Terys, "So, you were in favor of Garia riding from the start, then?"

"I thought that if she could - after all, a frayen is not the same as a horse, as she kept telling us - if she could, it might provide a suitable method for allowing women to ride openly. After all, we can all say that it is a new fashion introduced from Earth by our newest daughter, can't we?"

Robanar glared at Terys, and she smiled beatifically back at him. Eventually he gave up and stamped to his feet.

"Keren, will you join me? For some reason I need a drink."

"As you wish, father," Keren said as he stood, but behind his father's back he gave his mother a quick grin. "In the parlor, do you think?"

Terys watched the two men in her life leave the room and close the door, and then leaned forward, her face alight.

"So, Garia. Tell me what you and Rosilda have decided the fashionably-dressed woman rider will be wearing around Palarand in future!"