A visit by Garia and Keren to watch the guardsmen practice their arts leaves her the center of attention once again. After a lunch where forks are introduced to the diners Queen Terys shows that she can drive a hard bargain.

Somewhere Else Entirely

by Penny Lane

14 - The Training Field

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) 2011-2016 Penny Lane. All rights reserved.

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Garia sighed, opened her eyes and sat up in bed. Another late night, but at least this one had been well-organized and expected, so she felt well-refreshed after the night's sleep. From the light forcing its way past the drapes it appeared to be mid-morning of another glorious summer's day. There was no sign of Jenet but Garia didn't mind in the slightest. After all, Jenet had had a late night as well.

Garia had intended leaving the tower once Kalikan had fully risen but the appearance of the Veil had put paid to that. It took over an hour before the whole nebula cleared the mountains to the east of Palarand and she had had difficulty taking her eyes off it for even the shortest moments. Which hadn't prevented the questions coming from Bleskin and Gerdas. Bleskin couldn't comprehend that there existed places which didn't have such glories in their skies despite knowing that Garia was not of Anmar. Gerdas wanting details of what the colors and streamers represented, questions Garia could answer only sketchily. Finally she had recognized the warning signs of tiredness and two of the lookouts had helped herself and Jenet negotiate the stairway safely so that they could return to their suite and finally retire for the night.

The door to the sitting room was very slightly open and there were faint noises coming through the gap. Garia wondered whether it was Queen Terys as on the previous occasion she had slept late. Oh well, she thought, no rest for the wicked. She pulled back the covers and swung her legs out of the bed. There was a moment of blankness before she remembered what she had arranged for the morning, a visit to see the Palace Guard on their training ground. She wormed her feet into her slippers and headed for the sitting room.

"Keren! I didn't expect to find you here."

He gave her a warm smile. "Good morning to you too! After the other late morning I thought you might like company for breakfast again. It's all right, I have a chaperone."

He gestured behind to where Kenila was standing unobtrusively in a corner, having finished laying out the breakfast table.

"It's all done with mother's blessing," he explained. "She's been called away to deal with some domestic problem, I expect she'll return shortly. Have you bathed yet?"

"Uh, no, Keren. I've barely even woken up yet."

He showed concern. "I forget, you've had some strange days lately, haven't you? Where's Jenet? Getting the bath ready?"

"I'm not sure, I think she might still be sleeping. I haven't seen her yet this morning."

"Oh, goodness! Kenila, will you go and check that Jenet is all right?" Kenila started to say something, but Keren realized the problem. "Hmm, you can't leave us together, can you? We'll all have to go, but you can check her quarters on your own."

The three walked into Garia's bedroom and Kenila pulled open the narrow door of the tiny room where Jenet slept. Sitting on her bed, her hair in a mess, Jenet had her head in her hands.

Kenila asked, "Are you ill, Jenet?"

She turned, dropped her hands and gave a small smile. "No, I'm fine, thank you. Just a case of oversleeping." Then she saw who was standing behind Kenila. "Highness! Mistress!" She stood up rapidly.

"No, no!" Garia said. "Take your time. Keren is going to join us for breakfast in the sitting room. Are you ready to come to the bathroom?"

"Uh, in a moment, Mistress, if you will excuse me."

Jenet came out into the bedroom and made a bee-line for the en-suite toilet. When she emerged she immediately went into the dressing room and returned with two fluffy robes.

"Highness," she said, curtseying in her nightdress to Keren, "If you will excuse us."

Eventually Garia and Jenet emerged clean and refreshed and joined the others in the sitting room. After a very short wait the breakfast was delivered and Garia and Keren began eating.

"This seems unfair," Garia said to Keren, "that our servants have to wait to eat while we stuff our faces."

Keren shrugged. "That's the way it's always been, Mistress, although because of the late night I agree that Jenet should have something now. Normally the servants are up well before the members of the court - which now include you, if you recall - and they have already eaten by the time they come to haul us out of bed. Jenet, come and pull up a chair and have something to eat with us."

"Your Highness, I shouldn't."

"I insist. You've missed breakfast in the servants' hall and you need something after your late night."

"As you command, Your Highness."

Jenet came and sat at the end of the table and started eating, although she appeared uncomfortable with the situation.

"Mistress, I should be serving you, not sitting here."

"I can reach everything on the table, Jenet. Just eat. If we need anything fetching, I'm sure Kenila will oblige." Garia grinned at the woman. "Just put it down to my peculiar foreign customs."

Jenet gave her a faint smile. "You have enough of those, Mistress."

Once breakfast was over Garia asked Keren, "You remember you're supposed to be taking me to see Captain Bleskin this morning? To watch the Guard train?"

Keren gave her a smile that was laced with something else. "I haven't forgotten, Garia. Which is why I'm dressed like this." He waved a hand down his ensemble of rust-brown tunic, matching tights, ankle boots and a sash in the house colors, green and purple. "I'm assuming you're only going to observe today - if Bleskin lets you get that far, of course - so it probably doesn't matter too much how you're dressed. Choose something cool and make sure you wear a wide hat, the sun will be quite strong by the time we get there. I can't wait to see what the reaction of the boys on the field will be. I'm sure you'll make just as much an impression on them as you have on everyone else who's crossed your path so far."

Garia paused for thought. So far, her appearance had been much like that of a fox in a large hen-house, some transfixed, others denying her presence, very few accepting her initially for what she was. None of it was of her making, really, and she was finding it difficult sometimes to come to terms with being so solidly in the spotlight. She nodded reluctantly back at Keren.

"I'll try not to disrupt proceedings too much. Have you any idea what else might be happening today? I get the impression there are other things going on in the palace but my brain's too exhausted to remember everything that might have been arranged."

"Heh. I sometimes have that problem as well, especially since Father has asked me to perform more official duties as I've got older. Let's see. I think Master Parrel will be turning up sometime with those fork-things you asked him for. Oh, and if I remember correctly we'll probably have Morlan's funeral this evening. We'll all have to go to that, of course."

"What does a funeral consist of in Palarand these days?"

"Mostly burning on a funeral pyre, usually done at or about sunset, so it will be after the evening meal. For Morlan, since he was a palace resident, the pyre will be at the far end of the training field near the back wall of the palace." He tipped his head in her direction. "Or the wall of the old fort, as I explained last night. They are one and the same back there."

He reached for his cup of pel and took a sip before continuing.

"I'm beginning to think that what you need is a secretary, Garia. Your time is going to become more valuable from now on, especially since your evenings will be taken up by... meetings." Keren was trying to be careful in front of the maids. "I'll have a word with Mother, she'll know how to get you one assigned. Do you have a preference, male or female? Female might be better, I think. The tongues are wagging enough as it is."

She gave him a coy smile. "Ah! Don't like the idea of competition, is that it?"

He gave her a broad grin back. "Competition? I don't fear any competition. Besides, I've spent the last six or seven years being introduced to every eligible daughter of a ruler inside the Valley - and elsewhere, come to that - and it's a chance to see someone else get the same treatment." His face grew thoughtful. "Of course, even I can tell that the man you choose will have to be someone pretty special." Another grin. "Interesting times ahead!"

She gave him a look of frustration. "I've only been a girl for a week and already you're trying to marry me off! At least give me some time to get used to my new situation, that's all I ask of you."

Keren was instantly contrite. "I'm sorry, Garia, it was only meant in jest. You're such an interesting person to have around the palace you automatically lighten my heart. Now, perhaps you'd better go and dress, because if I know Bleskin, he'll be waiting for us."

She stood and gave a deep curtsey, an impish smile on her face the whole time.

"As you command, Your Royal Highness."

Which one of these flimsy things should I choose? Meh, one is about as good as any other, how on Earth do real girls make up their minds? Answer to self, sometimes they don't. Remember times when Dad and I would stand about in the living room, waiting to go out, while Mom spent ages trying to decide which suit or dress to wear? Women, really!

Oh, wait, that would include me now, wouldn't it? I just hope my mind doesn't rot down to that level as time goes on. Hmm, let's be serious about this.

"Jenet, perhaps I should wear this dark gown, that way I won't stand out quite so much in front of all the men?"

"That would do, Mistress," Jenet said diplomatically, "Although it is said that dark colors soak up the heat from the sun more easily. A white one would be better, especially if you're going outside on a day like today."

But I'll just look like a frivolous little girl, won't I? I don't want to seem an airhead in this situation, I have to appear to know what I'm doing out there. I'm not just going out there to eyeball the beef, after all.

Leastways I hope not. I so do not want to go there.

I also want to go and beard that old biddy Yolda again some time today, she remembered. In that case, something light and flimsy will emphasize that I need something different to work out in. Yes. Let's do it that way, even though I'm likely to cause a riot this morning. She smiled and started rifling through the dresses on the rail.

"You're right, Jenet. Let's try something like this one."

"That's not... quite what I thought your style was, Mistress," Jenet said cautiously. "It's very frilly and feminine, are you sure? I think it would look good on you, but if it will make you uncomfortable, perhaps something less... "

"Blatant? Hmm, perhaps you're right. How about this one, then?"

"That one would be better, Mistress," Jenet said, although privately she thought that it was almost as frilly and feminine as the other one had been. At least this one had elbow-length, loose sleeves to help protect her mistress's arms from the sun. She helped Garia into the gown. It had a built-in underskirt which made the mid-calf skirt bell out, Jenet knew that this would keep the bulk of the sun from burning her mistress's legs.

"I need some proper footwear," Garia grumbled as she was helped into yet another pair of satin slippers. "These are going to be ripped to pieces by going outside, aren't they? Is there something better, something like you're wearing?"

"Of course, Mistress. Most ladies of the court would wear better shoes when they go visiting, or if they are attending a function in the field. Like the funeral this evening, for example. We must see Mistress Yolda before then to get you at least a pair."

"Mistress Yolda," Garia muttered. "Yes, we'll certainly visit her after our lunch nap. Now, am I ready?"

"A hat, Mistress." Jenet reached to one of the higher shelves and pulled down a broad-brimmed straw hat. There was a pale yellow scarf wound round the crown and hanging down the back. Having seated this on Garia's head Jenet examined the result and then found a matching sash which she would twice round Garia's waist before loosely knotting at the left side.

"There, Mistress! Have a look."

Holy cow! I think I have a crush on myself. I look amazing! Unfortunately, if I look like this I'm going to be like flypaper when those guard guys get an eyeful. Buzz, buzz!

"Is this going to be too much, Jenet? In front of all those men?"

"I don't think so, Mistress. It's only what every young woman goes through, after all. You'll soon get used to it. Besides, I'm sure the Prince will be there to beat off the admirers."

"Yes," murmured Garia, "but who's going to beat off the Prince?"

In the event she almost had to beat off the Prince by herself.

"Whew! You take no prisoners, do you?"

"What? I'm not doing this deliberately, you know. I just wanted something light I could wear outside."

"Maker help me when you are doing it deliberately, then."

Garia could see that he was slightly flushed and his hands, down by his sides, were closed so tightly she could see the white knuckles. They were waiting in the sitting room with Kenila while Jenet changed into something suitable for outdoors. Finally she appeared and they all departed the suite, Jenet accompanying Garia and Keren while Kenila went off to rejoin the Queen. It took some time to work their way right to the back of the palace.

"How big is this palace, anyway? We've been walking for ages."

"It's not that far, especially in a direct line, but a direct line would mean going through the kitchens and the laundry. This way's less smellier and a lot cooler. The palace? It's been growing for centuries. Mostly at the front lately. Father has had to have more offices built just to keep up with the administration. Just one more corridor."

They turned at the end of the corridor and Garia found herself in a huge hall about the same size as the Receiving Room. Unlike that richly decorated chamber the walls of this one were instead lined with bare wood planks up to about nine or ten feet or so above the floor. Above that were windows which let the strong light stream in. The floor seemed to be stone slabs with a thin layer of sand scattered on them.

"In the winter or other very bad weather we practice in here," Keren said. "We can bring the frayen in and train them, as well." He pointed to a door at the far right. "There's another small hall off that way with equipment we use for specialized training. Swords, weights, that sort of thing. Here, we can get out onto the field through these doors."

He led her down to double doors on the far left which stood wide open. Outside was bright sunlight, noise, and movement. Garia squinted until her eyes adjusted to the light and then surveyed her surroundings. They were standing at one end of a large walled field. The surface under foot looked almost like Earth grass, but Garia could tell that it was something different that performed the same function. The shape of the spear-like leaves was different and she might have noticed the color to be different if it hadn't all been browned off by the dry weather.

To her left some men were firing longbows at targets a long way down the field. In front of her were others with crossbows, their targets being a quarter of the distance the longbows could cover. On the right some men were riding frayen, some carrying longbows, some crossbows, some spears. They appeared to be either training the beasts or trying to control them with their knees. To her immediate right, an awning was attached to the end of the hall and beneath it stood Bleskin and some other men. Bleskin saw them and immediately approached, bowing before the Prince.

"Highness, Mistress, welcome to the training session," he greeted them. "I trust you are both well rested after your visit to the tower?"

"Captain," Keren acknowledged him. "Us youngsters soon bounce back after a late night, don't we, Mistress Garia?"

"Usually," Garia responded.

"It was an interesting exercise," Bleskin said. "There is no denying that Master Gerdas found the, ah, equipment useful and I could fully understand why. Mistress, I believe that I now agree with your arguments about the future uses of the said equipment and I shall so inform the King at our next meeting."

There was an outraged shout from some way down the field and Bleskin spun on his heel to locate the cause. It was easy, near one of the frayen riders a longbow arrow stood quivering in the turf, the rider raising his fist towards one of the archers on the other side of the field. The watchers' attention switched to that direction. Furious at what had been a near miss Bleskin produced his parade-ground bellow.

"You! Get your sorry backside over here this minute!"

The object of his anger lowered his bow and began walking towards the little group. Unfortunately, so did everyone else on the field, the frayen riders turning their beasts and urging them into a trot. Bleskin looked exasperated. "Not -"

He stopped, changing his mind. "All of you. Here. Now." He waved his arm to bring them all towards him.

Garia estimated that there were around forty guardsmen on the field. When all had gathered around them in a semicircle Bleskin rounded on the archer who had let off the errant shot.

"You! What were you thinking of? You could have injured someone, even killed them!"

The archer briefly locked eyes with Bleskin then dropped his gaze to the browned grass.

"Sorry, Sir, I was distracted by the mistress appearing."

"Maker help us!" Bleskin fumed. "This is merely target practice. Part of the exercise is learning not to be distracted by whatever else is going on. Suppose this hadn't been a practice? Suppose this had been the middle of a fight and a woman walked out of a door near your position, would you have been distracted then?"

"No, Sir," the man said, his eyes still downcast. "Don't know, Sir."

"No," Bleskin said, "I bet you don't." He turned to the guardsmen as a group. "Let this be a lesson to you all. The first rule of warfare is shit happens. That includes people you hadn't known were there popping up at inconvenient times and in inconvenient places. When you have a job to do, focus on that job and let others worry about the rest, understood?"

There was a muttered, "Aye, Sir," from the guardsmen.

"Now," Bleskin said, "Mistress Garia is a stranger to Palarand and she has expressed a wish to learn what weapons the Palace Guard use and how they use them. So, go about your business exactly as usual. I don't want to see any showing-off or any other stupid behavior. Mistress Garia is strictly off-limits, you hear?"

There was another round of "Aye, Sir," and then the men began to disperse back to their tasks.

"Sorry about that, Mistress," Bleskin apologized to Garia, "that's not the sort of thing I expect to see my men do whether there's a visitor here or not. So," he calmed down and gave her a smile, "apart from that, what are your first impressions?"

"It's very hot," she said, "but then you can't always choose where and when to fight so you have to train in all conditions, don't you? Those bows? Recurved and laminated, I think?" She nodded to herself. "I have - had, I mean - a friend who did archery so I know that much. I don't think he can hit targets that far down the field, though. Might I have a closer look at a bow, please?"

"By all means, Mistress." Bleskin turned and shouted to one of the men waiting a turn at the firing line. "D'Janik! Bring your bow over here a moment."

The man trotted over and rapped his right fist on his breast.

"Let the mistress have a look at your bow, D'Janik." The guardsman gave Bleskin a look. "Oh, she's not going to break it over her knee! Just hand it over, will you?"

Garia took the bow and examined it. As she suspected, the art of bow-making was reasonably advanced here, it was made of several woods laminated together and in the distinctive double-curve which gave it greater power. It was also longer than she was tall so she held it at an angle and tried to pull the string with little effect.

A thing this size is going to be too unwieldy for a runt like me to make much use of.

She handed the bow back to the guardsman with a nod of thanks and Bleskin dismissed him.

"I'm just not strong enough to pull a beast like that. Do they make it in smaller sizes, Captain?"

"They do, Mistress, but I suspect that you wouldn't be able to draw those either," came the reply. "Do women really use bows where you come from, Mistress?"

"Both men and women do archery but only for sport," she told him. "There are primitive people who use bows for hunting and there are some specialized uses as well but we don't use them for warfare any more at all that I can think of."

"Amazing. Perhaps you might find a cross-bow more suitable?"

Bleskin went under the awning and picked up one of several crossbows lying against the wall. Garia took it, her arms going down as she fully took the weight.

"Oof. That's heavy."

"Here, let me."

Keren took the weapon from her and demonstrated how to hold, cock and fire it. It seemed that the shoulder piece hinged downwards and an attached slide pulled the string backwards until it dropped into the trigger mechanism. Garia tried it and managed to cock it with difficulty, she thought that with a little physical muscle development it would be something that she could use if absolutely necessary.

"Thank you, Captain." She returned the weapon to him. "I see your men also use swords and spears. Or are those lances?" She pointed to the mounted men.

"They function as both, Mistress," he replied. "They are short enough to be usable dismounted yet just long enough to function as a lance when necessary. A frayen doesn't often get fast enough to make lances practical for most purposes. Why, Mistress? Do the frayen on your world go faster?"

"We don't have frayen at all, Captain. We have a different animal entirely called a horse. It's bigger than a frayen -" She gave him a description of a horse, as best as she could. Bleskin couldn't visualize the animal so her hand-waving made little sense to him. He moved on to another point.

"As to swords, we use two kinds, Mistress. A shorter, straight sword which the men use when on duty within the palace and a longer curved version when mounted outside the palace. Here, these are practice swords, they are the same size, shape and weight to the normal straight sword but are blunted." He removed a sword with a blade about two feet long from a nearby barrel and handed it to her.

This was more like it! She took the sword and moved it about to get the feel of it. The hilt was large for her small hands, she had forgotten that, but she could still hold it securely enough. For her build and muscle tone she would have preferred something a little lighter as well but she could manage with this one. Bleskin's eyes opened as he saw the familiarity with which she held it.

"You are familiar with a sword, Mistress."

"Only just. It is something that my martial arts teacher insisted upon, as he said that one could never be sure when the opportunity to make use of one might occur. I definitely couldn't be considered an expert with one, though. I am not very fit, Captain. Were I to be permitted some daily exercises, I would like one day to improve my swordsmanship."

"Martial arts, Mistress? I believe you mentioned the subject previously. I do not understand quite what you mean by that."

"It's simple, Captain. You and your men are artisans if you will, experts at the art or craft of warfare and fighting. On my world the words 'martial arts' tend to describe unarmed fighting or defending oneself against a small number of opponents. The idea is to use the enemy's strength and movement against him, so for example someone my size would be able to take on a full-sized man and possibly win. We can use whatever items come to hand as well, there are different forms of the art which emphasize particular strengths and weaknesses."

"But what you describe sounds just like hand-to-hand fighting, Mistress, which my men are already proficient at. How might you improve what we already do?"

Garia shrugged. "I'm not saying that the methods I know would be useful in an all-out battle, but they would certainly be of use in, say, an ambush situation." She shook her head. "To start with, Captain, I'm more concerned with being able to look after myself than teaching your men, but there are several problems I need to overcome before I can do that. I would like to be able to teach what little I know to your men, true, but first I have to find out what I can do myself."

"You'll have to give me detail, Mistress. I have difficulty appreciating what it is you might need."

"I can believe that, Captain. After all, the idea of a woman fighting probably sounds pretty strange to you, doesn't it? Well, the first problem I face is that the body I present to you now is not the body I had before I came to Anmar. Minor details aside, I was as tall and well built as the Prince here. Now, I'm going to need to learn how this new body, with its different weight distribution, behaves before I can begin any proper exercises."

"Maker! Are all the women on your world as big and strong as Prince Keren?" Bleskin obviously had a mental image of a world of large, heavyweight women in his mind, all fierce and fighting fit.

Garia smiled. "Not at all, Captain, no more than this world has. I do not know the reason why I have ended up looking like this, it was not my choice I assure you. The next thing I must have is your approval to do these exercises. I don't especially want to disrupt your normal training, so I'll need a room somewhere to do them in out of sight of your men. If everything works out well I would want perhaps two or three volunteers - including probably Prince Keren here - to join me after a time. Finally there is a different kind of battle I must fight and win."

Her expression changed to one of frustration as her hands smoothed down the silken fabric of her delicate summer gown.

"I can't possibly do any kind of exercise dressed like this," she explained. "I need to go and convince Mistress Yolda to provide me with something more appropriate. She has very definite ideas of how a lady of the court ought to behave and I do not think she approves of my strange, foreign customs."

Bleskin chuckled. "I would certainly agree with you there, Mistress. There is a rumor that Mistress Yolda has been Mistress of the Wardrobe ever since the Chivans built the original fort. I wish you well in that endeavor. I regret that I do not think I would be able to assist you in that enterprise, I do not have enough men under my command.

"However," he continued, "I have no objection to the rest. You are obviously familiar with the weapons my men use and have knowledge which may be of use to them in the future. I can certainly agree with your wish to understand the limits of your body, even if," he smiled, "I find it a strange past-time for a woman to do. If you are familiar with means of defending yourself then, particularly after the other night, it would make sense for you to become proficient in those means."

He addressed the Prince. "Your Highness, Mistress Garia has my permission to make use of the Small Practice Hall whenever she wishes, providing first that you agree the use with my lieutenants." Lieutenant was how Garia interpreted the word Bleskin used although what she actually heard was Quadrant Officer, a Captain's command typically being split into four equal sections. "I would not want someone to blunder in unexpectedly."

"No, indeed, Captain," Keren replied with a smile. Garia felt her cheeks heat. If she managed to get this going then the first few sessions were going to be... somewhat embarrassing for all concerned. The fewer spectators she had the better.

"I still find the idea of these 'martial arts' difficult to visualize," Bleskin was saying. "Is it not possible for you to describe them, Mistress?"

"It's tricky," she replied. "Really, I would have to demonstrate and I won't be able to do that for a good while yet. I certainly wouldn't attempt to do so dressed like this." She considered. How could she give him a flavor of what she meant? "I know, Captain. There is a set exercise which I have started doing when I get out of bed each morning. It is designed to stretch the muscles and improve the flexibility of the joints. Many, many people do these on Earth, even people of advanced years. As it happens because we woke up late this morning I didn't do the exercise. If you would permit? I think I can manage in this gown."

"What does it involve, Mistress?"

"Not much. Just a bit of space to move around."

"Is it going to be unsuitable to do on the field?"

"No, anyone can do it, inside or out, all you need is a flat area."

Bleskin gestured and stood back, along with Keren. Two of the men who had been standing under the awning surreptitiously moved closer to get a better look. Garia took her position and began. The sun reflecting off the dried ground was bright and she was forced to squint to stop her eyes watering. Add sunglasses to my list of things to introduce. The satin slippers were soft enough that her footing would be secure and the gown had wide enough sleeves and a full enough skirt that her movements would not be impeded. I don't think anyone's going to see anything they are not supposed to, which is probably just as well. I'd certainly get the wrong kind of reputation if they did. She began moving through the forms. After a short while she realized that the movement of the men on the field was distracting her and she closed her eyes completely, concentrating on the sequence of moves.

As she worked through the exercise her connection with the outside world disappeared completely. For the first time since she had arrived on Anmar everything flowed smoothly and comfortably from one form to the next. Closing her eyes, although it was not a required technique, had enabled her to concentrate on the essentials and it showed. It seemed that she was beginning to understand her new body on a more fundamental level.

As she came to the end she suddenly realized that it had gone very quiet and her eyes flew open as she rested. Every man on the field surrounded her in a great half circle, and when her eyes opened they all burst into a spontaneous round of applause. Her face reddened in embarrassment, she had been performing in front of all these men! Barely realizing that she did it, she gave them a Japanese-style straight-armed bow.

"That wasn't no dance," someone said as the clapping ceased.

"No, it weren't," someone else agreed. "It were like slowed-down fighting."

"Aye," a third added. "I definitely saw a punch in there somewhere. What do you call that, Mistress?"

"Now, men," Bleskin began, but Garia stopped him with a hand-wave.

"It's all right, Captain. This is an exercise called Tai Chi which some people do where I come from," she explained to the crowd. She gave them the same explanation as she had to Bleskin and answered a few questions. Most seemed very impressed although a few plainly thought she was crazy, and there were more than a few expressions evident of naked lust among the onlookers. In the end Bleskin told them to get themselves a drink of water from the barrels under the awning and the group dispersed slowly.

"You've got their curiosity up now," he muttered to her. "They can do without distractions like this."

"I don't know, Captain," she replied. "Remember what happened when I first came out onto the field?"

"Aye, you're right," he said, mopping the sweat from his forehead. "Even so, I think they've had enough excitement for today. Why don't I take you to look at the Small Training Hall? There's time before lunch, I think."

Bleskin led the way back into the Large Training Hall and through into a small room beyond. Here Garia found a space that was still substantial but more intimate. Like the other room this one had protective planks around the walls, but these walls had equipment racks fixed to them and she moved to examine the various items. There were straight swords, curved saber-type swords, a stand of spears a little taller than Keren, axes, maces, armor of both chain-mail and scale mail, shields, weights, both bar-bells and free-standing weights of stone and of iron, ropes, both coiled and hung from the ceiling way above, a dummy frayen with saddle and bridle, models of siege engines. Rolled up at the far end of the hall were thick felt mats.

"This looks good, Captain," Garia said, hefting a sword from the rack. "This will give me enough space to find out what I can do and the privacy, too."

"Aye, Mistress, but remember that the Guard use this room as well. I cannot guarantee that you will be able to use it whenever you desire."

"Oh, no, Captain! I fully understand. The training of the Guard must come first, I have no argument with that. I am extremely grateful to you for permitting me this much. It can't be easy being faced with such a strange request from someone like me."

"Mistress, you have surprised us already, I take your requests very seriously now."

Garia and Keren took their leave of Bleskin and began to make their way back through the palace with Jenet in tow.

"Keren, could we go to Morlan's quarters on our way back? I would like to recover my Earth clothing, please. If it is left there it might disappear without anyone noticing."

The Prince nodded. "A reasonable thought, Garia. Let's turn this way, then."

Two guardsmen had been set to secure the apartment of the erstwhile Royal Questor but Keren's presence got them inside easily. It seemed that Morlan's manservant had been given leave until a new position could be arranged for him and they were alone in the suite of rooms. Garia led them into the study and picked up her clothing.

"I think that's everything. Is there anything else we need do here, Keren?"

They both looked around.

"No, I don't think so."

"What will become of these rooms now?"

"I guess that the new Royal Questor moves into them once he's appointed. I think, if that is to be Gerdas, he may not wish to move in as we wouldn't be able to accommodate his observing apparatus. I shouldn't think anyone will be using them for a while in any case. They'll have to have a convocation and appoint a new leader of the Society of Questors first. That will take at least a month, probably longer."

"Oh. Is there a bag we can put these things in?"

Jenet found a suitable bag in Morlan's quarters and the three then made their way back to the household rooms. Terys was waiting for them as they entered the corridor.

"There you are! I've had footmen wandering all over the building looking for you. Have you forgotten that Master Parrel was coming this morning? Where have you been, anyway?"

"Mother, we've been out on the training field with Bleskin," Keren explained. "Then we stopped by Morlan's rooms and retrieved Garia's original clothing on the way back." He indicated the bag which Jenet carried.

"Oh." The Queen seemed slightly mollified. "I did send someone down to the field but you'd already left. I have asked Master Parrel to stay for lunch as it is nearly upon us, perhaps we can see these utensils of yours in use, Garia."

"Well, why not, Ma'am? He has them with him, I assume?"

"Yes, dear," Terys replied. "He showed them to me, as fine a piece of work as I would expect from a master metalsmith."

Garia had a thought. "Will we be talking to Master Parrel after lunch, Ma'am? I might have something else to perk up his interest."

"We will, Garia. Let's get through lunch first and then we can make some arrangements with Parrel. I know there are other matters you wish to discuss with him."

~o~O~o~

The seating arrangements were slightly altered for the mid-day meal this time. Garia sat facing Robanar, with Terys on his left and Keren on his right, where they could get a good view of the demonstration. To her right sat Master Parrel and to her left was an uncomfortable-looking Tarvan, extremely un-nerved at being in such close proximity to his King. Jenet had taken away the forks, wrapped in a soft leather roll, and made sure that they were clean enough for Their Majesties to eat with. Keren had declined his fork, instead suggesting that Parrel try it out for himself.

The first course, naturally, was soup so didn't require the use of a fork. Garia had to explain that just as one didn't need a spoon when one ate bread so a fork was not essential for every occasion. The main course arrived, a leg joint from some dog-sized animal for each diner, and she took the fork in her left hand, the larger of the two knives in her right, and began carving with gusto. The two monarchs watched her closely for a short while and then picked up their own forks to begin demolishing their own portions. They handled them awkwardly to begin with but soon found that the control they gave more than compensated for the unusual grip.

Watching Garia turn the fork over and scoop small vegetables enlightened them, too, and they began to realize that the tool was a great deal more versatile than it had first appeared. She impaled meat, pushed vegetables onto both the front and the back with her knife, shoveled and even scraped up gravy with her fork and there was no doubt by the time that the meal ended that the fork had found its place among Palarand tableware.

"Mistress Garia," Robanar said as the plates were cleared, "today I have discovered something new that will benefit all Palarand. A simple tool that will make everyone's meal that much easier to eat, and I think I can speak for all of us when I thank you for introducing us to it."

"Sire, the pleasure is all mine," she replied.

"Master Parrel," Terys spoke.

"Your Majesty."

"Shall you stay afterwards and discuss the production of more of this... fork... for the palace?"

"As Your Majesty commands."

Captain Bleskin, further down the main table, added his appreciation. "Your Majesty? I also have an interest in these implements. It seems to me that my men would find such tools useful in the field."

Garia nodded. "Soldiers, in the field, can make do with just a fork, Captain. I'll tell you what I know the next time I visit you and your men if I may."

Terys's eyes bored into Garia. "What have you been up to now, my dear?"

Garia gave a weak smile. "Nothing much, Ma'am. Nothing that need worry you at the moment, at any rate."

They met, as before, in one of the palace's front offices. Robanar, Terys, Keren and Garia sat round a table with Parrel and an overawed Tarvan. Robanar had brought a fork with him, and he gestured to it as it lay on the table between them.

"So, Parrel. The forks would seem to be a success."

"As you say, Your Majesty. I can't understand why no-one has thought of such a thing before." He stammered, "Uh, that is, before Mistress Garia brought it to our attention." He turned to Garia. "Mistress, how is it that these are known in your country, wherever that might be, and yet not known to us in the Valley?" He turned back to Robanar. "Ah, Your Majesty, am I allowed to ask such questions? There is a mystery here."

Robanar gave a non-committal grunt. "There is, Parrel, and it is the reason we are seated here today. Before we enlighten you, however, there is the more immediate matter of the forks to consider. I will ask the Queen to negotiate, she has a better understanding of domestic matters than I have." He smiled. "So she tells me, anyway."

Terys leaned forward. "Master Parrel, are you content with making these forks in the quantities we will require for the palace?"

"I'm not sure, Ma'am. If each place setting will now require the addition of a fork, then the number we are talking about will be more than two hundred." Parrel frowned. "That is probably more than a year's work for someone such as Tarvan here. Not difficult work, mind, but it still needs to be done."

"You made four since we last spoke, Parrel."

"Aye, Ma'am, but that was the two of us, and there were already spoon blanks available we could use."

"You don't need to draw me a picture, Master Parrel. I understand. Very well, then. Here is what I propose. Your guild will provide forks to the palace, sufficient for every place setting to have one. There will be no cost to the palace for that." Parrel just nodded, he knew the way the Queen's mind worked. "Following that the palace will pay the standard price for any further forks supplied. I offer you a year's unlimited design license on the production of forks within all Palarand, a royalty of one-twentieth of the price for each to be paid, not to the Royal Treasury, since this is Mistress Garia's sole idea, but to an account we shall set up for her. Every other guild or party within Palarand who makes forks shall also pay you a royalty of one twentieth. Agreed?"

Parrel's eyes narrowed as he worked through the arithmetic, and then his face cleared into satisfaction. "Done, Your Majesty."

Garia merely looked confused. How could Parrel subsidize the production of forks for the palace and still expect to make a profit? "I don't understand, Ma'am," she said. "How can -"

"If I may, Garia," Keren said. "You're forgetting that once everyone in Palarand finds out that the King and Queen are using forks they'll all want them, and once they find out how useful they are the whole country will be awash with them. Master Parrel will have to farm out the work of making them and his royalties from that will more than pay for what he has to make for the palace. In turn, it's only right that you should get something for introducing them in the first place. I happen to know that you're going to need funding for all the other things you're going to tell us about, and this is a perfect way to start that funding."

"Oh. Yes, I see. I hadn't really given the financial side much thought."

Keren grinned. "I know, you've had a lot to think about recently. But, remember, you're living with the Royal Family now and we have to keep up with the finances or we're in trouble."

Parrel added, "Mistress, the King and Queen strike a hard bargain but they are not known for squeezing their people unfairly. There will be sufficient profit in this for us, I give you my word."

Garia was still confused. "But, why only a year, Ma'am? Surely people will need forks making for longer than that? Just like knives and spoons."

Terys replied, "There's a practical consideration, my dear. Remember, we can only control the making of anything within our own realm. By the end of the year forks will no doubt have traveled widely over Alaesia and others will be making them. It therefore makes no sense to charge a royalty over something that someone like Master Tanon may soon be able to buy cheaper elsewhere."

Garia opened her mouth to speak and then closed it. Import tariffs? Perhaps now was not the best time to get diverted onto such matters, especially as she had only heard the phrase on TV and had little idea of how such things actually worked. She merely nodded understanding instead.

"Thank you, Ma'am."

"And now, Parrel," Robanar said, "the main purpose of this meeting. I trust that you are convinced," he indicated the fork again, "that we will be serious in what we disclose to you. What I am about to tell you - and your journeyman here - is not to be repeated to anyone without our express permission, do you understand? You take an oath of secrecy when you become Guild members, I expect you to abide by that oath. For your own safety, if nothing else.

"Mistress Garia here, as we have told you previously, is not from Palarand. She is not from any country within Alaesia either, in fact not even anywhere on Anmar, known or unknown. She is from another world, somewhere else entirely."

Both metalsmiths sat up at this statement, their curiosity roused.

"Sire, that explains much about the rumors we have heard in the city," Parrel said.

Robanar nodded. "Aye. Because of the manner of her arrival it was not possible to prevent talk, although as you are aware most of such rumor is usually nonsense. Mistress Garia comes from a much more advanced society. She has told us of devices and concepts we can barely understand which she says are used every day on her home world." Robanar paused to fix Parrel in the eye. "She has consented to share that knowledge with us."

Parrel's eyes flicked to Garia. She could see the doubt in them. A fifteen year old girl? She might know a little bit about table ware, but how can there be much else? A fifteen year old girl?

"Do not presume to judge her by her appearance, Parrel. A short talk with Gerdas will correct that impression, I have no doubt. She spent yesterday evening with him and myself on the watch tower, observing the stars and planets. Through a telescope. She knows all about telescopes."

Parrel started. Telescopes were secret, even Tarvan hadn't been involved in their construction! He stared at Garia to try and understand what made her different but failed. To all appearances he was looking at a young girl much the same as any other.

"Sire," she said, "I have something that might convince Master Parrel better than any words of yours. Jenet? The watch, please."

Jenet removed the watch from her pouch and placed it on the table, and the two metalsmiths immediately bent over it. Parrel looked up.

"What is this, Mistress? It seems to be broken."

"We call it a watch. It is used on our world to tell us the time. Everybody wears one of these on their wrist. The glass is cracked, that is because it was taken away and mishandled, that shouldn't affect the working of the watch, though."

The two men picked up the watch and examined it from every angle, muttering quietly between themselves. Garia kicked herself mentally. I should have remembered to pick up a magnifying glass when we were in Morlan's study. Never mind.

"How does it work, Mistress? Do you have to turn this small wheel to find out the time?"

"No, you just look at the position of the hands through the glass. Er, the small wires under the glass. One of them should be moving."

Parrel shook his head. "Nothing moves, Mistress. Perhaps it was damaged when the glass was broken?"

"May I see?" She took the watch, brow furrowed. Why has it stopped working? Has someone tinkered with it? She looked at the back, nothing seemed disturbed. Ah. She pressed the button in, and the second hand immediately resumed its progress round the dial. She handed it back to Parrel, whose eyes widened as he saw the movement.

Garia explained the relationship between the three hands to the two men and then added, "I would like to open the back for you, so that you can see the workings. I need something sticky that won't leave anything behind when we've finished."

Tarvan pulled out of his pouch the soft leather square that the forks had been transported in. He dampened the center with saliva and then Garia used it to try and turn the back of the watch with one hand while holding it onto the table with her other hand. It refused at first but the seal eventually gave and she unscrewed the cover for them all to see what was inside.

"Extraordinary," breathed Parrel. "What an amazing piece of workmanship, Mistress. I cannot say that I understand much of what I see within, though."

Garia gave him a wry look. "No more can I, Master Parrel. And before you start saying how clever the metalsmith was who made this, I must tell you that the parts were almost certainly made by a machine, automatically, by the tens of thousands, and assembled by hand by women probably little better educated than Jenet here."

They both stared at her, unable to believe what she was saying.

"This isn't even actually my normal watch," she continued. "The one I normally wear is a lot more complicated than this." And how the heck would I have explained a wholly digital watch with six buttons that would still work if Jacques Cousteau took it to the bottom of the ocean? At least with an analog watch I have the ghost of a chance. "I broke the strap and it needs to be mended. This is just a spare I borrowed that my Dad had in a drawer."

Actually, that's a good data point. I distinctly remember falling over, being knocked over when Tommy Sanderson came off his bike and collided with us. That was when my watch strap broke. Now when was that?

"Mistress, I don't know what to say," Parrel said. He was examining the thread that screwed the cover onto the back of the watch. "There is no-one, no-one that I know anywhere who can do work this fine."

"That's why we need you, Master Parrel, and people like your journeyman Tarvan," Robanar told them. "We are setting up a council to ensure the proper release of this new knowledge and you are invited to sit on it. We meet the day after tomorrow, after the evening meal, and I'll invite you both to that meal. Are you interested?"

"Sire, even dranakhs couldn't keep us from that meeting! We will both be there, you can depend on it."

"It's getting late and I see the Queen wants her afternoon nap, so we'll leave detailed explanations for another meeting. Will we see you this evening, for Morlan's funeral?"

"Aye, Sire, I expect most of the Guilds will send representatives. I'll certainly be there, I have personally done work for him in the past."

"Until tonight, then."

When the two men had taken their leave Terys turned to Robanar.

"Was that wise, dear? We may want Parrel but why do we want Tarvan?"

Both Garia and Keren tried to answer, but Garia deferred to the Prince.

"Mother, this process will take many years. It is quite likely that most of it will happen within my reign, not father's. We need young people who will start to learn the new knowledge now, who will still be working in years to come. Young people who will not necessarily be limited by the traditions of what went before. Garia?"

"Your Majesties, I agree with Keren. I might also point out that the metalsmiths and other guilds will have to be greatly expanded to fully make use of all the things I can tell them about. There are whole new areas of study which I haven't yet mentioned to any of you. Tarvan might end up founding his own guild in the near future."

"Maker!" Robanar muttered. "Yet more? Whatever next?"

"Let's all go and sleep on it, dear. Keren? Garia? Time for our nap."