Garia's last major confrontation looms... and she heads out with the King to try and knock some sense into the Society of Questors. Of course, Garia has an idea, but can she quell the mob long enough for her plan to be heard?

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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Garia watched the men in front of her tumble and roll. These were selected men from the Quadrants, the second group being taught the strange new art of unarmed combat. The difference was immediately noticeable, these men were all familiar with the Tai Chi they did every morning and they had absorbed some of the fluency of the moves. She couldn't remember her original group adapting this rapidly to the new techniques.

Of course, it had helped that everyone had watched her in her various bouts and exhibitions over the preceding months. They knew what to expect and they knew what they were going to have to make their bodies do in response.

Standing beside her, ready to assist if required as she was, were Keren and Feteran. Seated nearby on one of the benches, and looking none too comfortable, were four women. These were the first to volunteer to determine if it would be possible to create a small force of female Palace Guard to follow Garia's own example.

"Ow!"

Everyone watching winced as one of the men tumbled awkwardly and landed hard on the wooden floor, missing the felt mat completely. Garia clapped her hands.

"All right, everyone! I think it's time for a break while we check for injuries. Come and have a drink. Not too much, but you'll need to make sure you don't become thirsty while you're practicing in here. Pardal, you okay?"

The man climbed to his feet and dusted himself off with a lopsided grin. "Aye, milady. Nothing hurt but my pride."

The men had a drink and a breather and then returned to the mats, Keren and Feteran going with them to help their instructors. Garia turned to the women.

"Is this what you expected, girls?"

"Not at all, milady," their spokeswoman replied. "We did not realize that women's - or men's - bodies were capable of such things. And to see you toss His Highness about, well! A most astonishing display, milady."

"Perhaps you thought it would just be marching about and waving swords and spears?"

"Oh, no, milady! We know that there is more to a guardsman's duty than that. It's just that... in this room... are we expected to tumble like these men?"

"You might have to, Danisa. In time, all the Palace Guard will be trained in this discipline. If you're worried about... showing what you ought not, or hurting some of your more... softer parts, then I can tell you that I wear special clothing to do these exercises. Every care has been taken to ensure that no offense can be taken by anyone and that your body should be as protected as it is possible to be."

"We didn't know that, milady. Will you show us sometime? Uh, begging your pardon."

"Of course! If you are serious in wanting to do this, then you shall have all the help I can give you. Which, regrettably, will come to a stop for a while when I leave for the north with the King and Queen. I think, in the time I have left, I'll concentrate on making sure you have suitable uniforms and underwear and getting you started doing the Tai Chi. If I can do that then our instructors in here will be ready to teach you what you need to know."

"They are all men, milady. Will they treat us differently because we are women?"

Garia smiled at them. "The answer is yes and no. It's a very complicated question, Danisa. You have to be treated differently because your bodies are physically different, but on the other hand anyone you're likely to fight is more likely to be a man, at least to begin with, so you must be trained the same as the men are. And against men. That's what this whole experiment with you four is about, to see how you might perform and if you are successful what changes would be needed to guard routine."

"As you say, milady. "

Garia regarded the four women. All were much larger than her, but then most people were. These four had worked hard in the kitchen before being seconded to the Guard and all were tall, fit and with very little body fat. In fact, they were taller and heavier than several of the men exercising on the mats in front of them. Size wouldn't be a factor in how well they took to unarmed combat, but Garia knew that at least two of them were capable of drawing a bow and all four could wield a sword with little problem. She had seen them do such things at their first meeting two days previously.

"Personally," she commented, "I don't think you'll have any great problem fitting in. The biggest challenge won't be in your bodies, it'll be inside your own heads. You'll have to learn to think in ways very few women before you have managed. I don't mean that you'll have to think like a man does but it's more a question of changing how you've been used to thinking in the past. Follow me?"

"We do, milady," Danisa replied positively. "I won't speak for most women, but I have often felt... frustrated that I was able to do certain things but that I was not permitted to do them just because I was a woman. You have shown us that the fault is not because we are women but simply because we say, 'that's how it has always been'." She smiled. "I daren't say that any of us are as smart as you, milady, but I don't have to be that smart to know that is no longer true."

"As you say. You do know there is going to be significant resistance to what you wish to do? I was able to get away with it because I'm a foreigner, and everybody knows foreigners have strange customs. Are you prepared to put up with that?"

"We will do whatever is necessary, milady," Danisa said simply. "We have chosen this course, we will not let you down."

~o~O~o~

Garia was talking idly with Keren and Merizel in the household dining room before lunch started when they were joined by the King and Queen. Robanar inquired after the morning's activities and then asked Garia, "Are you yet ready to venture your thoughts about your curious language abilities, Garia? It is some days since the event happened, I wondered if you had forgotten with the press of work."

"Sire, I have thought about it quite often but I'm not sure that I can come to any conclusions. It seems to me that there are a number of possible reasons for knowing the Six Cities tongue, which D'Kenik informs me is called Tanal among themselves."

"Ah? Is there time to tell me before we sit? I would keep this speculation to those present, I think."

"Of course, Sire. Well, the first idea I had was that I might know every tongue spoken within Alaesia. That's possible, but I don't have any reason why I would need to know how everyone spoke. The second idea was that I'd been given the tongue of everyone I might come into contact with. Or, worse, everyone I will come into contact with, since that implies that whoever - whatever - put me here knows the future. Another idea is that when I was sent here, it wasn't certain where I would land, or who might find me first, so I'd need the languages of anyone who found me. The last idea is that I know just as much as I need to be able to do whatever it is I was sent here for." Garia frowned. "I don't think there's any way we can prove which idea is anywhere near right, Sire. Anything I do will likely prove all possibilities."

"As you say, Garia. I find that thinking about the reasons for your presence on Anmar to be most troubling. I believe - I mean, the Queen and I believe, the reason for your presence to be just what you have been doing these past months. I prefer not to consider the matter any deeper for the present."

"You won't get any argument from me on that score, Sire. My head strains enough with everything else that's happening as it is."

"Let us take our chairs for lunch," Robanar commanded. He led the way. "Are you prepared for what is to come this afternoon?"

"No, Sire," Garia answered promptly. "I mean, we've done all that we could do to prepare but this meeting is still going to be just one big unknown, isn't it? I have no idea what might happen."

Robanar ran a hand through his hair. "Garia, if I thought I could part the heads of every one of those black-robed nuisances from their bodies and get away with it, I would have done so long ago. Regrettably the kingdom will not function without the attentions of at least some of those difficult people."

"Sire? Even Gerdas?"

Robanar shrugged as the servant pulled his chair out ready. "There are always exceptions, as you well know."

Terys added, "We allow the Royal Questor to live with us in the palace, husband! You tolerated Morlan, didn't you? Shall you not tolerate his successor?"

Robanar grimaced. "If it is to be Gerdas, he shall not want to live within our walls, since he would prefer somewhere with a better view of the night sky. I am not sure that I wish to offer my roof to another less mannered than he. I am partly of a mind to discard that custom, reclaim those rooms for some other use, perhaps."

Keren said, "I know of a certain Baroness who has been spending time in those rooms, father."

"As you say, Keren. I have considered the idea myself, there would be advantages... and disadvantages. Garia?"

"Sire?"

"While Keren's proposal has merit, it is not something we need consider immediately. Let us talk of such matters once we have dealt with this afternoon's... ordeal."

"Oh, dear," Terys scolded. "You make too much of those men. Are you not the King, shall they not do as you command?"

Robanar sighed. "These are not as my nobles, my dear, as you are well aware. Their allegiance is of a different kind." He compressed his lips. "Enough. Let us now eat, and while we do so we may speak of more pleasant things."

~o~O~o~

"You know the strategy, Garia," Robanar said as the carriage rattled through the streets, "indeed, much of our plan is your own idea. Do you now have doubts?"

"Sire, I do not. It's just... I'm facing the unknown. Again."

"As you say, Garia," Keren added with feeling. "I think I'd rather wrestle grakh bare-handed than face all of those black-robed men at the same time." He added a smile of encouragement for her. "Don't worry, one or two demonstrations and you'll shut them all up, just you see."

"I hope so."

The carriage pulled into the courtyard of an establishment similar to the Guildhall. Servants appeared to mind beasts, open doors and lower carriage steps. Garia looked around, seeing only the same architecture she had become familiar with elsewhere in the city. At the main entrance to the largest of the surrounding buildings two black-robed figures waited. As Robanar, Keren and Garia approached them the two bowed.

"Sire, welcome to Questors Hall," Gerdas said. "Master Brovan and I are your sponsors for today's meeting. Welcome, Your Highness, and welcome to you also, Lady Garia. If you would accompany me, Sire."

As Gerdas led the way into the building Brovan walked beside Garia.

"Milady, your man Tarvan has told me that all is in readiness," he reported. "There have been many questions about the strange apparatus he brought with him, but none who saw the previous demonstration cared to enlighten anyone about their purpose." He smirked. "It is not my place, milady, but I shall cherish the moment when you wipe the smug expressions from their faces. Though I readily admit to you, that would have been my own expression a week ago. I have thought much since that day, and realized that my place in the scheme of things is not as great as I imagined." He smiled at her. "Today, milady, you have a friend in me, should you need one within."

It was apparent where they were heading since the noise grew with every step towards the double doors. Two servants pulled the doors open and the party marched in to uproar.

To Garia the room was immediately familiar, even though she had never seen the inside of one except on television. It was a lecture hall, the semi-circular ranks of seats rising in tiers around them. Most of the seats were filled with black-robed men, though a few remained empty. In the center was a semi-circular space for experiments and whoever was demonstrating. In front of Garia was a bench and she noted the battery trolley underneath. Behind her were two sets of double doors, between the doorways a large blackboard. Standing in front of the blackboard was Tarvan.

Of the fifty or sixty men in the seats very few were paying any kind of attention to those who had just arrived. Most were in pairs or small groups, their attention occupied by whatever they were discussing, and some of the groups were discussing subjects with some vehemence. At least two separate groups appeared to be on the point of blows, some members having to hold others back out of arms reach. Some were shouting across the auditorium at others.

Gerdas turned to Robanar with a wry expression. "Behold, Sire, the finest minds in Palarand."

Robanar grunted. "As you say, Gerdas." He turned and indicated with a finger. "Tallik."

A guardsman stepped in front of them holding an instrument like a lengthened bugle, raising it to his lips. He blew a long steady blast which echoed round the room. Everyone stopped and looked for the interruption, noticed the King and dispersed to find seats, remaining standing in front of them. When the bugler finished all the Questors bowed towards Robanar and he indicated with a hand that they should be seated. Most did, although a few returned to their arguments and some remained standing pointing to those on the floor.

"Gerdas!" one called. "Who are all these people and who let them in here?"

"Master Meklin," Gerdas replied with a certain nervousness, "Surely it cannot have escaped your notice that only one man in Palarand may wear a crown? This is your King, together with his son the Prince Keren."

"You sponsor the King, Gerdas?" Meklin asked rudely. "And his whelp?"

Robanar's face darkened, though he said nothing. Gerdas turned to him.

"A moment, Sire. We expected this. Meklin dislikes contact with others. If a ptuvil stood in front of him in the street, he would not recognize it."

Gerdas turned back to the heckler. "Meklin, in the King's domain he may travel wherever he might wish to. That you fail to recognize him says more about your own ignorance, I might add. As far as the custom of this hall is concerned, yes, I do sponsor the King's presence here today, and that of his son Keren."

Another Questor was beside himself with rage. "You dare allow a woman into this hall, Gerdas! If you knew how to draw a sword I would call you out! What does this mean?"

Most of those seated had now spotted Garia and were on their feet again, waving their arms with fury. As had the Guilds, the Questors had never permitted women into their domain before and most objected to the rude breaking of custom. Robanar indicated with his finger again and Tallik silenced the room with another blast.

"Masters," Robanar said, his voice echoing through the auditorium, "Milady Garia accompanies me at my express command. For now, she remains with us as an observer only. Any who do not wish to occupy the same room as a woman may leave now and take no further part in today's proceedings. I understood you are to elect a new leader of your Society, a man who will become my Royal Questor following the untimely death of Master Morlan. Understand," he added as several made to leave their seats, "that any who leave shall immediately forfeit their post of Questor and also," he smiled unpleasantly up at the gallery, "they shall forfeit the stipend granted to that post. Now, sit down and permit Master Gerdas to begin the proceedings."

Most seated themselves again with alacrity but two turned away from Robanar and continued to climb towards the exit doors at the top of the banks of seats.

"You may go," Robanar called after them. "I would not want any man who dared walk away from his King to be party to this meeting."

One turned and sat, shame-faced, in an empty seat near the exit. The other continued upwards and passed through the door. As he left servants appeared through the doors behind the King with chairs and the party took seats under the blackboard to watch proceedings. Gerdas remained standing behind the bench.

"Master Gerdas. The meeting is yours."

"Sire, thank you. I formally notify those present of the death of our leader, Questor Morlan some four months previously. His end was a violent one and is still being investigated by those responsible for such matters. I call the assembled Questors of Palarand together to elect from among their number a new leader as custom requires. To save the necessity of spending time choosing someone impartial to run this election, I tell you now that I shall refuse to be considered a candidate, thus I shall run the election myself in my capacity as acting leader. Does anyone here object to this? So shall it be. Who among you offers a name for election?"

The room immediately erupted with Questors grouping together and discussing candidates. Those on the floor were completely ignored except for a few who cast unfavorable glances at Garia.

Whatever do these bozos think they are doing? Garia wondered. They knew when they were summoned here that this was the purpose of the meeting! Don't they even talk to one another?

No, I suppose not. This is crazy. No wonder these people are still at this stage of development, if this is how the brightest minds behave!

Still, the attitude of the Guilds has shown that we don't need these people to do what comes next, as most of it will be engineering, not science. But we have to get some kind of scientific inquiry going or it will all come to a grinding halt eventually. If there's one thing I do know it is that I'm not going to be here forever. They are going to have to learn how to do this all on their own.

Eventually nine names were proposed by a number of partisan groups. These were rapidly whittled down to three who took almost equal shares of the votes. The legality of every vote was hotly contested by certain Questors who seemed to want nothing but prevent the whole business from running smoothly. Beside her, Garia noticed that Robanar was becoming restless with the interminable arguments.

"Sire," Gerdas turned towards the King. "We have three who command equal support among us. Do you declare a favorite? Otherwise we might descend into open warfare."

There was uproar on the benches as Gerdas asked this question, which went outside every custom the Questors could remember. Robanar rose to stand beside Gerdas, glaring at the mob and they eventually subsided into a semblance of silence.

"I have had enough of this miserable circus," he told them bluntly. "You are supposed to be the best minds of my Kingdom, and that makes me fear greatly for the future of Palarand. This stupidity must end now. If I have to choose between the three who you have put forward, then it seems that I shall choose the least objectionable of the three. Brovan, step forward. You are thus, from today, the Royal Questor of Palarand. Will you serve your King, your society and the people of Palarand?"

Brovan came from his front-row seat and knelt in front of the bench, facing Robanar.

"Sire, I shall."

"Then rise and join us, Master Brovan. Master Gerdas, you have my thanks for enduring a thankless task. Your duties today are finished. Remain beside us, if you will."

Robanar leaned forward, resting his hands on the bench as he glared at the assembled Questors.

"I imagined that the Society of Questors were the best minds in my Kingdom. It seems I was mistaken. I've seen better behavior in some of the more disreputable ale-houses in the city! Let me warn you, I am very close to lopping a few heads to convince the rest of you to mind your manners. This stupidity will stop, I will no longer permit it, do you hear?

"You are supposed to be the best minds of Palarand, uncovering the mysteries of our world so that we may benefit by your discoveries. Instead I find jealousy, spite, obstruction and plain ignorance whenever I encounter anyone from this so-called society. Your discoveries have more to do with advancing your own positions than with advancing Palarand.

"In the past four months I have had the pleasure of entertaining a visitor to our kingdom and in those four months she has shown me more of the wonders of our world than I have ever learned from any of you. Today, she will prove herself, and once she has done so I will explain to you exactly what will become of the Society of Questors. Palarand is changing and will continue to change rapidly into the future. My best minds must become adequate to the task that awaits us." Robanar straightened and swung an arm to indicate Garia. "Masters, this is Lady Garia, Baroness of Blackstone. Let her demonstrate to you what you have failed to demonstrate to me."

Garia stood and joined Robanar at the bench. There was an angry murmur throughout the auditorium that grew as they realized just how young she was. Robanar stepped back to give her room and she was left alone facing the mob.

"Why, she's just a girl," one noted in disgust. "Sire, what is the meaning of this?"

"If she is a noble's daughter, then she cannot possibly understand the matters we investigate," another said dismissively. "Her mind would not bear the weight. Is this some trick?"

"I am no noble's daughter," Garia replied, attempting to be heard over the noise. "In Kansas, where I come from, there are no nobles. The King made me a baroness in token of appreciation of the knowledge I have already brought to Palarand." She shook her head at her accuser. "There's nothing wrong with my mind, or the mind of any woman, for that matter. I just happen to have been educated better than you."

That produced the expected explosion. Garia cringed back from the avalanche of invective that a significant portion of her audience now hurled at her. She wanted to turn and run.

We knew this was going to happen. Now what I have to do is to slap their collective faces, and do it without completely folding up.

She forced herself to bend down and look for what Tarvan had left her, ready for this moment. They had taken care to prepare this so that it would be safe and yet give the expected result. From the terminals of each end of the cascade of lead-acid cells a copper cable had been securely fixed. Each had been wound from many strands of fine wire to make the cable flexible enough and were about as thick as her little finger. Around each cable a strip of wax-soaked cloth had been wound to protect the copper and prevent short-circuits. The other end of each cable had been wound around a stick of charcoal the diameter of her thumb, the joint and half the stick covered with a strip of leather to form a handle like that of a golf club. She lifted the two sticks up and brought the bare ends together.

Zzzzzzt!

There was an initial flash and a crackle and then she separated the sticks slightly to get a stable arc going. The cells were relatively crude and she didn't know how long she could maintain the arc. In any case, the light would damage everyone's eyes if it were left too long, so she separated the sticks after only two or three seconds and put them safely down ...to find the room absolutely silent and her audience staring at her with uniformly stunned expressions.

She smiled at them. "I'm so glad I've managed to get your attentions," she said into the silence. "My people have known how to do this for, oh, perhaps two hundred years. Any child of twelve or so can make the equipment, though it is rather dangerous. That arc - the spark of light you saw - is hot enough to melt steel, and we do use it for such purposes."

A hesitant voice came from the crowd. "Milady, would you do that again?"

"Certainly. Although I do not know how long I can sustain the arc."

She demonstrated again, and this time when she put the sticks down there was a faint murmur, an undercurrent of conversation as many of her watchers began to wonder just what she had done. The implications of what she had told them were beginning to trickle through as well.

"Milady, His Majesty told us you are but a visitor here," one asked. "I have never heard of this land of yours, Kansas did you call it?"

"Not surprising, master. Kansas is not on Anmar at all. I come from another world called Earth, which is so far away I have no idea how I came here or how I might return."

There were a few laughs and guffaws from the higher seats. Garia understood that most of her audience would not believe that other worlds existed, would think that she was rationalizing her origins if not outright lying.

"Will you hear me?" she asked. "It does not really matter where I have come from, only that I am here, and that I do not come from any part of Alaesia or the nearby islands. What matters is that in Kansas, and many other parts of my world, every child, both boy and girl, is taught from the age of five until they reach seventeen. After that most spend a further three or four years at places of higher learning. We learn many subjects most of which you have yet to even discover."

There was a general air of disbelief that anyone, let alone a girl, could spend so much time just learning. The accusations and rejections began to build until she picked up the sticks once again.

Zzzzzzt!

"Is there anyone in this room who can do this?" she asked as the voices died. "No? How about you tell me how a seventeen year old woman - yes, I am legally an adult despite my size - how I can do what I have just shown you." She tapped her foot into the uncertain silence. "How about you just watch and listen before you go assuming things you know nothing about?"

After a short while a voice asked, "Milady, is that lightning? Have you somehow trapped the power of the air itself?"

She gave her questioner a smile. "Yes and no. It is a form of the same energy as lightning, but I did not have to climb on a roof to get it, if that is what you mean. I made it myself."

"Preposterous!" someone called out. "You're telling us that a mere girl made all that? I don't believe it!"

"You're right," Garia said. "I had the enthusiastic help of several guildsmen. One of them is my helper, Master Electrician Tarvan, right there. I also needed Master Hurdin the Glass-maker to provide me with special jars to keep my electricity in. But before I told them how to make the parts, they knew as much about the subject as you do."

"You've been teaching guildsmen how to make your parts?" another voice called in plain disbelief. "Outrageous!"

Garia shrugged. "I lend my expertise and they lend theirs. Do you not get guildsmen to make your equipment for you?"

"Very occasionally," the same voice replied. "For some reason they seem reluctant to do as we instruct them."

"Perhaps if you stopped treating them like servants and began treating them as colleagues you might get better results," she said tartly. "Unlike you, the guildsmen of Palarand are, in the main, willing to listen to new ideas. "

It's just as well we agreed not to mention my connections with the guilds. I think that might have given some of them apoplexy.

"Now," she gave them another smile, "shall I move on to my next demonstration? Yes? Tarvan, if you would bring forward the other parts."

Between them they built a simple circuit from a stack of four primary cells, some wire and a motor with an attached fan. Tarvan actually made the cells there on the bench in front of everybody, assembling each copper dish, adding a felt pad, pouring in the brine and then capping it with a zinc disk before adding it to the stack.

"Ready, milady?"

"Go ahead, Tarvan."

For once, the demonstration was conducted in complete silence, all her audience intent on trying to figure out what she was doing. Tarvan clipped the final wire in place and the fan whirred into action. Some of those in the front row jumped as the motor started up. Garia turned to the audience with a hand on each hip.

"So. Would any one of you care to explain just what is happening here?" The silence grew, broken only by the noise of the fan and the slight clatter of the wire brushes on the motor. She swung, one hand indicating those behind her. "Brovan knows. Gerdas knows. Prince Keren knows, even the King knows. How is it that they do and you do not? Because I have explained it to them, that's how. Do you now accept that there may be things that I know that you do not? Will you now pay attention to your King?" She half-shouted the last few words and some of the Questors flinched back from her. She turned to Robanar. "Sire, the floor is yours."

Robanar stood and joined Garia, his attention fixed on the whirring fan. Tarvan started, rose and unclipped the wire before returning to his seat. Robanar looked at his audience, satisfied now that they would pay attention to his words.

"These are my decrees," he said without preamble. "Firstly, that the Society of Questors is abolished immediately." There was a shocked murmur from the seats and he held up a hand for silence. "A new institution will replace it to which you will all have the option of belonging." Sighs of relief. "Strict conditions will be attached to those of you who decide to join what will be called at first the College of Higher Education." Alarmed voices, now. "You will be able to continue your various researches as you now do, and those of you who, like Master Gerdas here, have duties to Palarand will be encouraged to continue those as well. The first condition is that those of you who decide to join the College will be required to spend a portion of your time teaching your knowledge to others, either other Questors or new students some of whom may one day join you in your endeavors. You will be expected to spend at least a third of your time in teaching duties."

Some of them were horrified, now. Some had spent their entire lives jealously guarding those nuggets of information they had managed to accumulate. To be forced to teach what they had spent time and effort finding out for themselves, well, even the idea was too much! What were they to do?

"The second condition will be that each member of the College will receive a stipend similar to that you received before, but the amount will be dependent on the time you spend teaching. Put simply, spend more time teaching, receive more money from the Crown. You may ask questions."

"But, Sire! How may we teach others? Our building is only suitable for ourselves, what you propose will be impossible."

"Land will be granted for the purpose, master. I have in mind a vacant property on the Kendeven road. The intention is to build what I am told is called a campus upon which you shall both teach and reside, and upon which your students may also reside, if they do not come from the city itself." He leaned forward, resting his hands on the bench again. "It is expected that, in time, the number of buildings may grow so that each specialization will have it's own college. The whole collection of colleges will be known as the University of Palarand. By that time, I imagine that each of you may be the Master of his own College."

Now, that's what I call a Master stroke, pun intended! After backing them into a corner, appeal to their vanity! If that doesn't get most of them onside, I don't know what would.

There was a silence as they digested this new information. A voice came from the back.

"Sire. What if we do not wish to be part of this... college you propose?"

Robanar grinned back at his questioner, showing his teeth. "You are at liberty to accept or decline my offer, master, at any time. If you do not wish to become a member of the college, then," he shrugged, "that is up to you. You would then have to find some other means of supporting yourself, of course, because you would no longer be receiving a stipend from the Crown."

That concentrated some minds in the audience. Small groups began to discuss this new idea amongst themselves.

Another questioner. "What of those whose quests take them to remote parts of Alaesia, Sire? With time spent traveling, they cannot spend as much time teaching others. It would seem wrong to penalize them on that account."

Robanar turned. "Garia? Perhaps you had better explain."

"Masters," she said, "by now you may have realized that what the King proposes is very similar to the way we teach education in Kansas. Palarand is not like Kansas so the University here will not be run quite the same way. However, I can tell you that in Kansas, each year in university is split up into three semesters with two vacations at... New Year, say, and at the start of Spring. There is a long third vacation in the summer, which is when I would expect most expeditions to be mounted. You have the rains here, of course, so perhaps the semesters would be split up a different way. Of course, depending on what you needed to do I'm sure that some kind of agreement could be reached. And, I must add, you would probably take some of your students with you to help your researches." She smiled. "They are, after all, free labor."

"Sire, when do you propose to start this new system?"

"At the new year, masters. There will be many details to agree beforehand and I expect that next year will be mostly spent in construction works. For now, I will simply expect you to inform Master Brovan of your wish to join the new establishment and tell him what you think you might need as accommodation and equipment. Brovan?"

"Sire?"

"You will need a small committee, perhaps five or fewer, to help you organize this. Call at the palace tomorrow and we shall provide help for your efforts."

Brovan bowed. "As you command, Sire."

An inquiry came from an older Questor with a look of distaste on his face. "Sire. Do I understand correctly, from words said earlier, that in this new arrangement we would be expected to teach... women?"

Robanar shrugged and returned a bland expression. "I see no reason why not, Branjof. After all, the proof that a woman may learn as much as any man stands in front of you today." He placed a hand on Garia's shoulder for emphasis. "Of course, if you wished to argue otherwise," he added thoughtfully, "I would be quite prepared to grant you an exclusive audience for the purpose... with the Queen."

Branjof looked as though he would become ill. "As you say, Sire." He sat down abruptly.

The audience had become quiet, digesting the shocking news they had received. One or two were talking together in low tones, but few had anything further to ask their King. For now, at any rate. Once the meeting was over, it was expected that the Questors would return to their normal state of low-level warfare and then the maneuvering would begin in earnest. Robanar would be ready for that when it happened.

"Have any of you further questions to ask?" Robanar asked.

"Sire, not of you, but there are questions we would ask the Lady... um."

"Garia. Baroness Garia. We have a little time. Ask your questions."

"Milady, your name. Is it connected with this new numbering system that has been introduced recently? I speak of the Garian numbers."

Garia nodded. "It is, although the name was not of my doing. This is the system in use over most of my own world, even among people who use quite different languages and alphabets. Have you tried it yourself, master?"

The man nodded. "Yes, milady. I cannot believe that no-one here has thought of such a thing."

"Other systems were in use at home but you'll find that this one is the best for making calculations. The system has already been adopted by His Majesty's office of taxes and many of the guilds are also finding it of help in their crafts. Even Master Gerdas here is using it for his observations."

"As you say, milady. It has already saved me considerable effort, though it took me some time to learn the new symbols. And I received this information on a strange sheet of material I could not identify. Is that of your doing also?"

Garia briefly explained paper and printing, noting that some of her listeners were becoming restive again.

Well, that's about what we expected. Some of them are going to absolutely hate the fact that a mere girl not only knows so much more than they do but is prepared to hand out the information to anyone who can make use of it. Not the way these people operate at all.

Finding a suitable point Garia stepped back beside Brovan.

"Master Brovan, I don't think we ought to stretch this out any longer," she said to him in a low voice. "Perhaps you'd like to conclude the meeting now, let everyone think about what's happened here today."

"As you say, milady. This was still a shock to me, and I knew what was to happen because I saw it all the other day." He nodded. "Leave it to me, milady. Sire, with your permission?"

As the meeting ended perhaps a third of the men left rapidly, pushing their way through the doors out of the auditorium. A small number remained in groups talking. The rest pushed forward in a mass to surround the bench with the battery and motor on it.

"Milady, if you would. Can you explain to us what is happening here? This has the appearance of, dare I use the word, magic."

"There is no magic here, masters. This is simple chemistry and physics and any one of you can do this once you know how." Garia smiled at her curious audience. "Although, we have a saying back home, 'Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic'. Or, to put it another way, perhaps magic is simply technology you don't yet understand. Okay. What you see here is a phenomenon called electricity."

Garia gave the Questors her quick potted lecture about electricity and then Robanar decided that it was probably time the royal party returned to the palace. Once back in the carriage Garia realized just how stressful the whole experience had been and sagged back on the seat.

"You have missed your nap today, Garia," Robanar told her. "The Queen will not be pleased."

"I know, Sire, but this meeting had to happen in the way it did, didn't it? We had to try and get them all to see sense, because we need them for the future. Do you think we managed it, Sire?"

Robanar grunted. "About as well as was forecast, Garia. I think we have convinced enough of them to agree to what we have proposed, but I suspect there will be many arguments in the future." He frowned. "It may help our cause if I could imagine exactly how this university of yours will work, my dear. Your descriptions are detailed but there is nothing like it in the Valley with which I may compare it." He flicked a hand. "Do not trouble me with further descriptions today, my dear. We may safely leave most of the planning for another day. Let Brovan find some able - and willing - assistants first, then we may consider our next step. Once we reach the palace, we must needs bend our attention upon our forthcoming journey to Dekarran."

~o~O~o~

Jenet opened Garia's sitting room door to see who had knocked and stood back, admitting Haflin and Rosilda, each with their hands full. Garia raised an eyebrow to see the two together as she bade them find seats.

"Milady," Haflin began from the settee he filled, "I have here blades for you as promised. If you would inspect them?"

He handed Garia a complete harness with scabbards and blades and she pulled out one of the swords. Each was smooth and long and shone in a way that the normal product of a sword-smith did not. She looked a question at Haflin.

"You see immediately, milady," he smiled. "Each of those swords was made from a piece of star metal -"

"I'm sorry?" she interrupted. "Oh! You mean a meteorite. Yes, of course. Those have quite large proportions of nickel in them sometimes."

"Ah? So you know of such matters." Haflin nodded to himself. "As you might also know, such metal is difficult to work but produces a much more durable blade. Coupled with hints your guardsman from the Six Cities was able to give me, I believe I have made blades that will be proof against anything that they may face in battle." He held up a warning finger. "Of course, until they are tried, as with any blade, we will not know the truth. I urge you to test these blades as fully as you may be able, milady."

Garia examined the figure-8 section blades more closely. Each was free of the ripples and patterns she had seen on other swords, where the metal was usually folded and welded together to provide a mixture of strength and flexibility. There were no signs at all of hammer marks, the whole blade seeming as if it had been drawn through a die - technology she knew these people didn't have yet. At the tip, one side of the end had been ground into a curve, leaving a sharp tip on the other side. The curve had then been ground to a fine cutting edge. This was a sword intended for stabbing.

At the other end of the blade the hilts were bound in serviceable leather and shaped to fit her hand comfortably. The D-shaped knuckle protector was made of brass, as were the curled cross hilts which would protect against an opponent running his sword down her blade. There was no decoration on these hilts as there had been on her presentation swords, these blades were meant for business. She stood and held the swords to get a feel for their balance, swinging them gently about to avoid hitting people or furniture. She smiled as she sat down again and slid the swords back into their scabbards.

"An excellent job, Master Armorer. I'll be quite happy if they never get any use, but somehow I doubt that's likely to happen for a while."

"As you say, milady." He gave Garia a wry smile. "I imagined that I knew all there was to know about the art of sword-making, but I learned much producing those blades and the ones that went before. You now have three sets, each with their own scabbards and harness, those you hold, the ones you were presented with on your coming of age and your practice pair. I shall make you a new practice set in time but would you agree that you are now sufficiently equipped, milady?"

"Oh, yes, Master Haflin! I know these have caused you extra time and effort but I think I've got everything I can cope with now. Thank you very much for your efforts."

"As you say, milady. It took time, yes, but the knowledge I gained in the making of these odd blades more than makes up for the extra effort. And now, perhaps, you are wondering why Mistress Rosilda accompanies me?"

"Why yes, I did. What have you there, Rosilda? Another tabard?"

"Yes, milady, but let Master Haflin explain."

"Milady," Haflin began, "as you know the star metal is found in stones of various sizes, and when I had cut enough for your blades there was some material over. I conceived then that I might use some of the rest to provide you with some extra protection and sought Mistress Rosilda's advice. I already knew that you would not wear armor, since that would be too heavy and cumbersome, so this tabard is the result we agreed upon."

Garia gave her swords and harness to Jenet as Rosilda presented her with the tabard, made in the dark green of her house colors. Immediately she realized that it was significantly heavier than those Rosilda had made before, and that there were hard plates hidden within the quilting. She looked a question at Rosilda, but Haflin answered.

"I only had a small amount of metal left, so it was hammered out into thin plates and concealed within this over-garment. There was just enough for overlapping plates to cover your heart both front and back, which we considered the best use of the material. No-one will know what is within, but it will give you an extra chance on those occasions when, perhaps, you may be surprised in a narrow place and not be able to strike back immediately. It will not stop an arrow at close range, nor a crossbow bolt, nor even a spear, but it will certainly turn any knife intended to harm you, and may even save you from being trampled by a beast. If you would try it on?"

"Of course, Master Haflin."

Even they are thinking of my safety. I love these people.

Slipping it over her head, Jenet helped arrange it on her shoulders. She was wearing an evening gown, but that wasn't a problem on this occasion. The edges stuck out on either side, front and rear.

"Ah. Yes, that's what we expected, milady," Haflin said. "If you would allow me."

He lifted a side of the material and gently kneaded it with his giant hands, bending the hidden plates to form around her breasts and torso. When he had finished the garment looked no different than her other tabards. She could feel the extra weight but it was not so much heavier that anyone else would notice, and that was the intention.

"Master Haflin," she said. "Thank you so very much."

She grabbed hold of his arm to pull his head down to her own level, impulsively kissing him on the cheek. He looked astonished and beamed as he straightened up to his full height.

Eyes twinkling, he told her, "If it were not for my oath to His Majesty, milady..."

"It is an honor to know such people as you who work for the King," she replied. "As do I. I shall treasure these gifts you have all given me, and I'll make sure that they are treated with the respect they deserve. Thank you again, both of you."

"As you say, milady. Now, with your permission, we shall retire, since we can both see that you are tired from today's ordeal. Let us hope that you have a peaceful week before we all head north, milady."

"I hope so! Well, good-night to both of you."

The two left and Garia turned to Jenet.

"Let's go to bed, Jenet. I don't think I'll have much trouble sleeping tonight."

"As you say, milady."