A strangely-dressed person is found, unconscious, on the rocks below a remote mountain road. When the stranger recovers it soon becomes apparent that nothing will ever be the same again...

Somewhere Else Entirely

by Penny Lane

1 - Alone on a mountain

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) 2010-2016 by Penny Lane. All rights reserved.

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Consciousness was not there, but something was. Awareness, input of sensations. The mind was a simple sponge, drinking in all that the body experienced without attempting to make sense of it. The heat of the sun on bare skin. A soft, warm breeze that blew gently across. The press of something sharp against a part of the body. The eyes were closed so nothing was in view, and if they had been open, the mind would not have understood what it was seeing. The ears listened to the wind, and then something else. The sounds were faint at first, gradually increasing.

"Yes! Down there! I did see something!"

"Can we get to him? Suppose we go down that way and then round that rock?"

"Aye. Let me lead the way. Do you suppose he's still alive?"

"Careful! That big rock doesn't look stable. Don't put your weight on it."

"I'll have you know -"

There was a sharp intake of breath.

"It's not a man, it's a young woman. I think she's still breathing. Come on!"

Voices, close now. A finger touched against a neck.

"She's definitely alive. Now, how are we going to get her back up to the road?"

"She doesn't look all that big, I should be able to lift her up on my own. If you stay behind me and make sure I don't put my foot somewhere I shouldn't we should manage between us."

A hail from a distance.

"It's a young woman. She's alive, Berd thinks he can lift her. She's dressed all strange though."

A sensation of motion, of being picked up and carried. At some point during the journey back to the road, the sponge stopped accepting sensations and darkness came.

"What's that you've found, Berd?"

"A young woman it seems, Master Tanon."

"Merina, fetch a blanket out of the wagon! Quickly!"

Merina came with a blanket, closely followed by Silna, her maid. The two spread the blanket out on the edge of the road and Berd lowered his burden onto it.

"It is a woman. Where was she? How did you spot her?" Tanon asked.

"It was the bright blue of the trousers, Master Tanon. Down below the road, by those rocks there." Berd pointed. "I hope I did right."

"Of course. It would not be charitable to leave someone alone out here, especially at night." Tanon tilted his head to look at the stranger. His wife and maid had crouched beside her to find out as much as they could. "A good looking girl, well looked after by her appearance. The clothes look... strange. Why is she dressed like a man?"

"Are there any injuries, do you think, dear?" he asked Merina.

"Not obviously," Merina replied. "I can't see any blood, from this angle. I wonder if she fell off the road?"

"She must have been with a caravan, surely. If so, they wouldn't leave her, would they?"

"They might do, under certain circumstances," her husband replied. He switched his attention to an older man watching them. "Jaxen?"

"Master," he acknowledged, nodding. "Bait for an ambush, perhaps?"

As soon as he said that, the other men who had started curiously gathering around dispersed, their eyes back on the mountainside above and below the road. One of the wagoneers climbed back into his seat and checked that his crossbow was in its rack and readily available. Other men fanned out ahead of the line of wagons as well as behind them. Jaxen approached Tanon.

"Master, this isn't really a good place to stop. If we carry on a little way, there's a passing place about seven hundred strides or so which would be more defensible. If you remember, it's where the road doubles back to go up over the pass. Could we carry her in your wagon?"

"Aye, that would be best. Then we can examine her properly for injuries, find out what state she's in. Berd! Would you mind lifting your find into our wagon?"

The unconscious woman was lifted carefully inside the last wagon and laid on a padded surface on top of the contents. The maid, Silna, was told to remain within and watch, to call out if anything changed. There were shouts, and the line of wagons moved off, the animals straining to pull them up the gradient that led to the top of the pass.

Eventually the turn was reached and a well-practised maneuver was performed: the wagons were circled in the flat space just beyond the turn and the men formed a defensive perimeter. Merina climbed into the wagon to rejoin her maid.

"Anything happened?"

"No, Mistress. She's not moved at all. I mean, I can see that she's breathing, but that's all."

"I think we'll have to try and get those clothes off, to see if there are any injuries," Merina said, eyeing the strange garments. "Besides, those are not proper clothes for a woman of any sort. I suppose that top garment just lifts over the head. If I raise her up, will you work it off?"

The two worked together, pulling the soft, thin garment up and over the stranger's head, Merina's mouth pursing as she realized that the woman was wearing nothing underneath the outer garment.

"Hmm. I don't think that anything of mine is going to fit her. She's more your size, Silna. Is there anything in your chest you might be able to lend her until we get to Palarand? It would only be for three days, after all."

"I have a thicker gown, Mistress, that might fit. You know, the brown and green one. It might get a little warm once we get down off the mountains, though."

Merina nodded. "That will have to do, I think, especially as she has no under-things. If we can get her to come round, it might be easier to do a little mix and matching as required. Now, what about these trousers?"

She leaned forward and worked the large metal button at the front over the buttonhole. There was a flap below and Merina raised it curiously.

"Will you look at that!"

"I've never seen anything like it, Mistress."

"Is it some kind of decoration? It's most unusual."

"There must be some way of removing the trousers, Mistress. Can we look at the back, see if there are ties or buckles there?"

"Of course. I'll roll her, look you underneath."

Merina lifted the slight weight with her hands and Silna peered beneath.

"No, Mistress, there's nothing. Except more of these pockets."

Her mistress released the woman's body and contemplated the strange decorations below the flap.

"What does that loose thing there do?" Silna asked. "Shall I try and pull it, Mistress?"

"Aye, try that. We're not going to get them off her if we don't try everything possible."

They both watched, mouths open, as the slide worked its way down over the tiny brass decorations and separated the two parts of the trousers.

"I never imagined such a thing!"

"Nor I. So now, we can pull - Oh. First we have to remove her shoes. I've never seen the like of those, either."

"No. Strange materials. Very soft. She can't have been walking in these for very long in the mountains, can she, Mistress?"

"I don't know what to think, Silna. Look, at least the laces look like they work the same as ours, even if the material is strange. Here, pull at the heel and it should come off now."

The shoes came off, followed by the trousers. Underneath the trousers was a small undergarment of a kind neither woman recognized. This was also removed before Silna dug out her brown and green gown. Once they had managed to dress the woman in it Merina climbed out of the wagon and joined her husband in the central space between the wagons, the stranger's clothes on her outstretched arms, the shoes balanced on top.

"Tanon, we need to talk."

"Of course, my dear. How is she? Has she recovered yet?"

"No, she's still out, but it seems more like she is sleeping now. We changed her into one of Silna's gowns and put her under a blanket. While we were tidying up she moved a little, as people do when they are asleep. But we still haven't been able to wake her."

"Did you find any injuries at all?"

"Only a bruise on her back near her waist, about here," she replied, indicating the position with her thumb. "It might just be from the way she was lying on the rocks when she was found."

"These are what she was wearing?"

"Aye, and a more unusual set of clothes I have yet to see. I'm beginning to realize that there are some disturbing aspects to this whole situation. Look at these shoes, for example."

Tanon removed one of the shoes from on top of the pile his wife held and inspected it.

"Amazing quality and colour. I don't understand how they could have made something so white. And soft, too." He flexed the shoe. "How is this sole fixed to the upper part? I can see no stitching, although there is stitching on the top. If it is glued, I know of no glue that can be used this way. I don't even know what substance this is." He peered closely at the sole. "Jaxen? Have you come across anything like this?"

Tanon passed the shoe to his Wagonmaster.

"No, Master Tanon," Jaxen said after a close examination. "As you say, incredibly soft to the touch. I've never seen anything even similar to this." He passed it back to Tanon, who placed it and its mate on the top of the steps leaning against the back of the wagon.

"What's this?" he asked picking up a small object next. "Some kind of bracelet?"

"I assume so. It was buckled around one of her wrists. Her left wrist, I think. I've never seen a piece of crystal like that before."

"There's a strange design under the crystal, and three fine... One of them is moving!" Tanon held the item up to the light, close to his face, to get a better look. "One of these wires or whatever they are is moving." His face stiffened, and he held the thing up to his ear. "It makes a noise. It must be some kind of mechanical thing, but I can't imagine what it does."

A cold feeling settled in the pit of his stomach. Whatever had they run into here? The bracelet joined the shoes on the step as he reached for the next item, which was a small flat folder. Tanon opened it with trepidation to find internal pockets in each side. One side was thicker than the other, and the pocket was covered by a flap. He lifted the flap and shook the contents out onto his palm.

"Hmm. Money, I imagine, although nothing like I've ever seen before, and I've seen coins from some pretty distant places in thirty years of trading. Jaxen?"

Tanon held out his hand with the money and Jaxen came and looked, picking up several of the coins, even testing one with his teeth.

"New to me, Master. What could they be made of? Not gold, silver, copper or bronze. Nor those pottery pieces they use in the Kittrin Empire. They are well made, though."

"Aye, indeed. I'd like to meet the man who made the dies for these coins."

Tanon released the coins from his palm back into the little pocket and closed the flap, his attention changing to the pockets on the other side. Finding them empty, he realized that the whole thing had a slit running round from one side to the other. Opening it with a finger, he extracted... something.

"What's this? It's very heavily decorated. Look, there's a man's face on this side. Extremely well drawn."

"I don't think it's vellum, Master," Jaxen offered. "Or parchment, the material's too flexible. The drawing is so fine, and in more than one color, too."

Tanon passed the flat, flexible rectangle to Jaxen and pulled out another.

"Here's another! They look exactly the same. These can't possibly have been drawn, surely?"

"If they weren't drawn, then how were they made?"

The two men and Merina puzzled over the strange things, making very little of them. Finally Tanon put them back into the folder.

"They might be some kind of money," Merina speculated. "There were symbols on those... whatever-they-ares... which might have indicated values. And there was what might have been signatures, too. A promissory note, perhaps."

"Our mystery woman has a tale to tell when she wakes up, hasn't she?"

Tanon placed the folder on the step and reached for the first garment.

"Tanon, look at the cloth," Merina said, noticeable tension in her voice. "It wasn't woven, it was knitted, and there must be a thousand stitches in each of those rows."

Tanon started and held the garment up to the late afternoon sunshine to get a better look.

"Maker! You're right. Those stitches are so tiny! How could someone possibly make something with so many stitches and so even? And with such a fine thread?"

"You haven't seen the worst of it," Merina continued. "Turn over the hem at the bottom."

Tanon started as he examined the hem fixing at the bottom of the garment. What had seemed like two rows of simple stitching on the outside had turned out to be something immensely more complicated when reversed.

"Amazing. The amount of work that must have gone into just securing this hem. Think of it!"

"I am. And it has me wondering, if this is the kind of workmanship of a simple shirt where she comes from, she must be of noble status, surely? I can't imagine common workers wearing clothing like this, can you?"

"I'm beginning to get an unsettling feeling about this whole business, my dear. But let me examine these other things before we start speculating."

Tanon put down the shirt and picked up the small undergarment, finding it made of similar material and workmanship to the shirt. He was about to add it to the pile when he noticed a small detail inside. Turning the garment inside out, he gazed in wonder at the small rectangle of material fixed to the inside of the top trim.

"What's this? Some kind of mini tapestry? Look! It's covered with all kinds of strange symbols. If it is writing, it's nothing like I've ever seen." He peered closely. "The fibres are so small I can barely see them. I don't know what they might be, perhaps some kind of silk. Imagine the loom that this was woven on! It must only be the width of my thumb, and yet there might be a hundred threads in that strip. What do you reckon it might be, dear?"

"I don't know," Merina replied. "There's a similar tab inside the shirt, and another inside the trousers. The only guess I've had is it might be some kind of owner's label. But the expense! Imagine weaving a label for each item of your clothes that said 'Tanon'. Unbelievable. That's why I think there might be another explanation."

The undergarment joined the pile and Tanon turned his attention to the trousers. He held them up by the waistband and felt a small measure of relief. The material was substantial, and while Tanon hadn't seen anything exactly like it before, he knew enough about cloth to know what he was dealing with. In fact, one of their six wagons was piled high with bolts of cloth he was taking to Palarand to be sold locally. Unfortunately, the cloth was the only thing that Tanon could find familiar about the trousers.

"What the..! Look at this stitching! It's sturdy enough for this tough fabric, certainly, but it's so regular! I don't know anyone anywhere who can do stitching of this quality. Especially through this kind of cloth. How is it possible? So many pockets! And there are... rivets. What for? Do they serve a purpose, or are they just decorative? Rivets through cloth! Who ever thought of such a thing?"

"Pull open the flap at the front, dear," Merina instructed.

"Maker! What's this?"

Merina demonstrated, and Tanon marvelled at the strange mechanism.

"Look at all these tiny metal bits. What are they, brass? Gold? And you can't see a tool mark on any of it." Tanon shook his head. He turned to Jaxen. "Does any of this make sense to you, Jaxen?"

Jaxen took the trousers and looked at them, finally shaking his head.

"No, Master. I have never come across anything like this, and I've been travelling Alaesia with you for near fifteen years now. But we might ask D'Joril, he hails from K'kjand in the remote west, he may know of peoples who can do works like these."

"Fetch him."

D'Joril came, and inspected the clothes and accessories.

"No, Master, there is nothing like any of this where I was born and brought up. Mind, it is many years now since I was in those places, and things may have changed. But I do not believe they have changed that much."

"Thank you, D'Joril. It seems clear that the clothing is of a very high status, and therefore -"

"Begging your pardon, Master," D'Joril interrupted.

"D'Joril?"

"I don't doubt at all that this clothing is of a quality and workmanship that no-one in Alaesia has ever seen before, but these trousers, if you don't mind me saying so, are working trousers."

"What? What do you mean?"

"Look at the toughness of the material. The double stitching, the overlapped seams. The rivets at the pocket corners to prevent the material from coming apart. Master, I believe these trousers were meant for a worker, not a noble. Now, you know me, that I prefer to wear leather."

It was true. Everything that D'Joril wore was made from leather of one sort or another. Nobody knew whether that was just his personal preference or a custom from his home lands, but everyone knew that he did and accepted it.

"If I had a pair of trousers like that," he continued, "I'd be quite happy to wear them on the road. They look quite comfortable to me. Maybe a little warm in the summer, but otherwise, aye. I think that they are the sort of thing a shepherd might wear, or a country smith maybe, or a drayman, a fisherman, something like that."

"You're right, D'Joril. Yet another puzzle to add to the list. Now, Merina, Jaxen, what do we make of our latest discovery?"

"The questions are, how she got on that mountainside, and what she is doing wearing clothes like this," Merina said. "Where does she come from, that they can make things like these?" She indicated the bracelet and folder.

"More important to my way of thinking, Master Tanon," Jaxen said, "is that we have a deadline to meet. This business could delay us somewhat."

"Aye, you're right, Jaxen," Tanon said, "I have that in the back of my mind. In seven days we have to be in Viridor to meet the Golden Dawn." He frowned. "One of those days is an allowance against any unforeseen delays on our journey but I never anticipated anything like this. We cannot afford to miss her sailing, we've too much of everyone's money tied up in that consignment. What do you suggest?"

"I think we can still reach the regular camp-site if we start right away, Master. It's nearly mid-summer, after all, and there's plenty of daylight left. There's time enough to speculate once we've set up camp and got settled. We can think about the implications while we travel. Although we could spend the night here, I don't like the surrounding area and we would start behind in the morning. That would delay us all along the line."

Tanon nodded. "I was coming to a similar conclusion myself. Aye, let's be about it, then."

"What do you want me to do with these things, dear?" Merina asked.

"I suggest we put them in one of the hiding places for now, Mistress," Jaxen said before Tanon could reply. "As yet, we don't know if our travelling companion wants to be found or not. It might prove easier if anyone we meet along the trail has difficulty proving who she is, if you take my meaning."

Tanon and Merina looked thoughtfully after Jaxen as he walked off to get the caravan moving again.

"He's right, dear," Tanon said. "I hadn't thought through some of the implications of this. Let's keep our options open until we can find out more from our stranger."

The regular camping place was a wide, flat area just below the summit of the pass, sheltered from the prevailing winds when necessary. On a warm, clear, summer night it wasn't necessary. The wagons had been circled again, but a wider circle this time. From the side of each wagon facing the central fire an enclosed awning had been rapidly constructed. In one of these Silna and the unknown woman had been settled. This had been necessary because the wagon they had been riding in was the one that had contained all the travellers' food and access was required in order to prepare the evening meal. Tables, benches and cooking equipment were removed from the wagon and set up. A huge cauldron was set up over the fire to heat the last of the 'trail stew'. Bread was taken from sacks, water and beer made available. This was routine, everyone worked quickly and efficiently at tasks done every day for years.

"So, Jaxen," Tanon said as he munched some bread dipped in his plate of stew. "You obviously have some ideas about her." There was no need to ask which her was meant.

"Aye, Master. She might be a runaway. That might mean she had been kidnapped, or it might mean she just didn't want to travel with the party she was with for whatever reason. An abusive husband, perhaps."

"I don't think she has a husband, Jaxen," Merina said quietly. "When we changed her clothing, we could tell quite clearly that it is unlikely that she has known any man."

"Mistress?" Jaxen exclaimed, his eyes wide. "I have difficulty believing that about any woman of her age. However, you've seen her, I don't doubt that you state the truth. Master, Mistress, of all the strange things we have discovered about her, that is perhaps the most unusual one to my way of thinking."

"I know. I was surprised myself, so Silna and I double-checked, as much as we were able in the cramped conditions."

"Of course," Jaxen said, "there is one kind of woman who that would apply to, isn't there?"

"That being?" asked Tanon. "Ah, noblewomen, I suppose."

"I'd forgotten about noblewomen, Master. No, I was thinking of royalty. The daughter of a king is usually kept clean until she is married off, isn't she?"

"True," Tanon replied. "But, by the same token, noble or royal, most would have been married off by her age. Merina, dearest, did you notice any marks on her when you unclothed her? Brands, scars, that sort of thing?"

"Not a thing, Tanon. She's completely blemish free. I just wish that I had had skin like hers when I was that age. Her hair's a bit short, but that may be the custom where she comes from. I don't think she's a servant or a criminal, if that's what you're thinking."

"At any rate," Jaxen resumed, "there's no doubt that those clothes she was wearing aren't from any place any of us are familiar with."

Tanon nodded. "I agree. So, the owner of those clothes - who is not necessarily the woman - comes from somewhere else entirely, beyond the limits of our most intrepid explorers. Which means somewhere well beyond Alaesia, of course." His face took on a faraway look. "If we had access to more of just one of the things she was carrying, there would be several fortunes to be made."

Tanon had been a successful merchant for a number of decades, and his listeners could only agree with his sentiments. If it were possible to find the origin of those amazing clothes and source them in any quantity, they could almost ask any price for the cloth and get it.

"Whoever they are," Jaxen pointed out, "they obviously didn't want to draw attention to themselves by wearing unusual clothing, so I'm guessing these would have been hidden away at the bottom of a wagon, much like our valuables are. Why our guest decided to wear them and not some normal clothes, I can't imagine."

Silna poked her head through the flap of the awning and called. "Mistress!"

Merina scrambled up and hurried to the tent, sliding past Silna to lean over the pallet the young woman was lying on. She was moving as if just awakened, and her eyes were blinking in the dim light from the oil lamp hanging from the framework.

"Hello there," Merina said quietly. "How do you feel?"

The young woman winced and raised a hand clumsily to her forehead. She groaned, trying to clear her throat.

"Here, have a sip of water," Merina offered. She held up a goblet of water and the woman sipped from it, swallowing at first with difficulty. Finally she nodded and Merina took the goblet away.

"Thank you," she said. Her voice was clear now but the accent was... strange. "Ow. My head... hurts."

"You may have banged it when you fell," Merina said. "I didn't notice any injury when we found you, would you mind if I took another look?"

"Please."

Merina gently ran her fingers through the thick hair, her fingertips carefully probing for lumps or gashes but finding nothing.

"You don't seem to have an obvious injury. Can you tell us your name?"

"Yes, I'm..." she stopped. Her expression became first confused then distressed. "I don't remember," she said finally. She looked around at the inside of the tent. "Where am I?"

"You're in the encampment of Tanon the merchant, on the road from Moxgo to Palarand. We found you earlier today, unconscious, just below the road as it climbs up from Blayvardis Vale. What were you doing, alone on the mountain?"

"Mountain? I don't know. None of those names means anything." She seemed upset because nothing made any sense. "Can I have a little more water, please?"

"Surely." Merina passed the goblet and the woman took it, drinking slowly. "My name's Merina, by the way, I'm Tanon's wife, and this is my maid Silna. Do you think you could manage a little food?"

The young woman winced again from a twinge in her head, but managed a reply.

"I think I might, please."

"Silna," Merina instructed, "go and get a bowl of stew from the pot, please. There should be just enough left. Try and make it more liquid than solid, I think."

"Aye, Mistress."

The woman squirmed on the pallet.

"It hurts down here, at my side."

"Aye, you appear to have a bruise down there. It's probably from when you tumbled down onto the rocks."

The young woman frowned. "I don't remember anything like that. In fact, I don't remember much of anything at all. Perhaps that's why my head hurts so much."

Silna reappeared with a bowl and a spoon. Merina took both and began feeding the woman from the bowl.

"That's nice," the woman said. "The taste is a little strange, but then I expect everything to be strange just at the moment."

"Some of the meat's a bit chewy," Merina cautioned. "This is 'trail stew' and it's been going a few days now. If there's anything you don't like, just spit it out and we'll clean up any mess."

But everything that went in stayed in, and Merina could see the woman's eyes glazing over. After a while she stopped accepting food and drifted off back to sleep.

"Have you eaten yet?" Merina asked Silna.

"No, Mistress, I've been in here all the time."

"Go out and feed yourself, then. I'll stay here and sit by her until you've filled yourself up."

"Thank you, Mistress."

Some time later Silna resumed her watch in the tent and Merina came out to rejoin the men.

"She's fallen asleep again," she reported. "I did manage to get most of a bowl of stew into her, though. Interesting. She seems to have lost her memory. I don't think she's faking it, either. It looks like she somehow took a bang to the head, even though there's no obvious sign of injury. She has an accent I can't place, although the few words she spoke were recognizable and of the common tongue."

"You mean we're not going to find out where she - or her clothes - came from?" Tanon seemed disappointed. He let out a sigh. "What are we going to do with her?"

"I don't see we have a choice, husband," Merina said. "She has to come with us, at least as far as Palarand. If necessary, you can go off to Viridor without me while I stay in Palarand and try to find out what's going on."

Jaxen said, "I think, if you'll pardon my suggestion, Master, that you'll have to take her to the palace. There's more going on here than just a chance to make some more money, much though I wish it were not so. Supposing those who she was travelling with were spies? Supposing she knows something - and doesn't know she knows it, because she's lost her memory? That makes her very dangerous, to us and to Palarand. We don't even know which way her party was travelling, they might be ahead of us on the road. If we hadn't been going down to Viridor, then I'd quite fancy a quiet investigation to find out what's going on, but we've too much riding on that consignment to change plans now."

Tanon nodded. "As always, Jaxen, your advice is invaluable. We'll have to take her with us, of course. We can't just abandon her on the road. Let's see what happens in the days ahead as we travel to Palarand. Who knows, she may remember something."

~o~O~o~

In the night she woke up, the demands on her body beginning to press. She looked around. Canvas walls, a small lamp with a flickering flame hung on one of the wooden supports. There was breathing nearby, as of someone sleeping. She raised herself onto one elbow and discovered the two women she had previously met wedged beside her on the floor of the small enclosure, both asleep.

"Uh, hello?"

One of the women, the older one, stirred in her sleep, moved and blearily opened one eye. Seeing the stranger propped up looking at her, Merina snapped awake and sat up.

"Um, hello, dear. Is there something you need? A drink, perhaps?"

"Er, no, quite the opposite. I need to go to -" She gently patted her stomach.

"Oh! Aye, of course. Um, do you think you can get up? It won't be very easy to manage things in here otherwise."

"I think I can do that, yes. I'm a little stiff and sore," she added ruefully. "It might not be a bad idea to stretch my legs for a few moments."

Merina stood, shrugging her clothing into place and smoothing the skirt of her dress. She held out her hand.

"Here, hold my hand as you stand up. You'll probably be a little wobbly."

The woman took the proffered hand and used it to pull herself to her feet, discovering that she was wearing a dress similar to that of the older woman. Merina leaned over and lifted a thick dark garment from a peg on one of the supports, wrapping it around herself. She then lifted a similar garment and held it out for the woman to wrap around herself.

"This is Silna's cloak, I'm sure she won't mind if you borrow it for a few minutes. It's not going to be cold outside, not this time of year, but it is still the middle of the night and we wouldn't want you to catch a chill."

"Thank you, er..."

"Merina. My name's Merina. I think you'd better put these on your feet."

Merina pulled out a pair of simple sandals from a corner of the enclosure and the woman slipped her feet into them. She guessed that they belonged to... Silna, was it..? as well. Then Merina slipped her own feet into similar sandals and opened the flap to the awning, emerging into the night with the other woman following her.

"Mistress?"

A man had joined them almost immediately from somewhere in the darkness beyond the circle of wagons. There was a fire in the center but currently it was just red embers, enough to enable the sentries to make their way about without destroying their night vision.

"Bargon." The man nodded. "Our guest needs to visit the latrine."

"Surely, Mistress."

Bargon walked off and returned carrying a small lantern. He then led the way between two of the wagons towards a canvas enclosure set a little distance from the camp-site. He handed the lantern to Merina and then stood back, his eyes beginning to sweep the darkness which surrounded them.

Merina took the lantern and guided the other woman into the enclosure. There was nothing inside except two planks laid a distance apart on the bare rocks and a small wicker basket in one corner. Merina hung the lantern on a peg and then turned to the woman.

"Can you manage here by yourself, do you think, or do you want help?"

"I think I can manage, thank you. I'll call if there's a problem."

Merina withdrew from the enclosure to stand waiting beside Bargon.

The cloak, while it provided warmth, was enveloping and so the woman removed it and hung it on a peg on one of the timbers supporting the roofless enclosure. Then she struggled to gather up the folds of the full skirt about her waist, finally trapping them against her waist by using her elbows. Her right hand drifted downwards across her belly, but before she got very far the urgency of her bladder made her crouch, one foot on each plank, so that the stream went straight down into the dark gap between.

She wondered what to do next, and then her eyes noticed the wicker basket. Awkwardly, for she still crouched, and still holding her skirts up with her elbows, she peered into the basket, discovering scraps of dried hay and grasses. She managed to lift out a small handful and wiped herself, discarding the grasses into the hole between the planks. She stood and arranged the dress tidily. Finally, she wrapped the cloak back over her shoulders and emerged to join Merina.

"Better?" The older woman smiled at her.

"Yes, thank you."

Merina thought briefly. "I'd better make use of the facilities while I'm out here, I suppose. Will you wait a moment here for me?"

"Of course, Mistress."

Merina looked sharply at her, but said nothing. Of course, she had heard both Silna and Bargon address her as 'Mistress', so it wouldn't be unusual for her to speak to her in the same way, she supposed. What a polite young woman! Merina moved off into the latrine enclosure to do her business while the woman and Bargon waited awkwardly in silence for her to return.

"There," Merina said as she reappeared. "That's better."

She handed the lantern back to Bargon and looked at the woman, whose attention was on the mountain range beyond the other side of the valley they had just climbed out of. There were a number of majestic peaks, some of the highest still snow-capped even during the warmest summers. All were plainly visible in front of them in the crystal-clear summer night air, their slopes glistening in the star and moonlight.

"It's beautiful," the woman said.

Merina looked and smiled. "Oh, aye. It's one of the main reasons I join Tanon on some of these summer trading trips. The scenery we pass on this route is some of the grandest in Alaesia. Of course, once the weather turns and it starts snowing, it's a different story. But Tanon won't send wagon trains out when the weather gets really bad, our cargoes are too valuable for that." She turned to the woman. "How are you feeling now?"

"It's a bit strange, really. I feel a bit fuzzy somehow, a bit confused. I get the feeling that things aren't quite how they're supposed to be, but I couldn't begin to explain what. I guess it must be due to the memory thing. Every so often I get a sharp pain in my head, so I must have hurt myself, but I can't remember doing so." She waved a hand across the view in an arc. "I certainly don't remember ever seeing anything like that view before. What are those mountains called?"

"They're the Palumaks, the greatest mountain range in Alaesia. You're saying none of this looks familiar?"

"Nothing, Mistress." She paused, a puzzled from on her face. "The moon... should it be moving quite so quickly as that?"

"Moon? Oh, you mean Tiede! Aye, of course, it always scoots across that way. If you mean Annis, Annis won't be up until nearly dawn at the moment. And Kalikan is up during the day this time of month."

The reply just seemed to confuse the woman even more and she raised a hand to her forehead. Merina took pity on her, while giving Bargon a meaningful look over her head.

"Look, it's the middle of the night, and we've both just woken from sleep. Let's return to our beds and try and get some rest, and I'll wager things will look a little clearer in the morning, all right?"

The woman gave her a small smile of gratitude. "Yes, that's a good idea."

Bargon accompanied the two back to their sleeping quarters and saw them inside, then moved off to quietly discuss the latest developments with his fellow sentries.

Strange moons, frightening creatures, inexplicable events... the mystery woman joins her rescuers as they continue their journey.

Somewhere Else Entirely

by Penny Lane

2 - Tanon's Caravan

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) 2010-2016 by Penny Lane. All rights reserved.

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"There! You're ready to travel, now."

Merina appraised her guest, her eyes traveling from the borrowed dress to the borrowed footwear. Silna had donated both, but Merina had found a suitable underskirt of her own which went on the smaller woman with a little adjustment to the waist ties. The dress, which the woman hadn't removed since Merina and Silna had put it on her the previous day, was made from a thick woolen cloth of green and brown. It had three-quarter sleeves and the neckline was adjusted with a ribbon which ran round the edge gathering the excess material. The waist of the dress was similarly gathered and tied off in the small of the back. The skirt was full and came to mid-calf, showing just a little of the underskirt beneath it.

On her feet were curious constructions which looked as though they had been made out of furry knitted string. These came to the top of the calf and were held up with ribbons as well as lacing which went up the back of the leg. The soles of these 'boots' were made from pieces of thick leather, sewn to the base of what was essentially a thick sock.

Both Merina and Silna wore broad felted hats although these were currently dangling on their shoulder-blades from cord loops which went round their necks. Because of the warm weather, Merina had explained that these might become necessary around mid-day when the sun became too fierce. There was no spare hat, but Merina had made available a linen cap which the strange woman could wear if it became necessary. Otherwise, all three women would go bare-headed.

"Good. I don't think it'll be too cold to go out and have breakfast, but you must tell me if you begin to feel uncomfortable, won't you? We don't know how long you were out there on the mountain, or what ordeal you went through before we found you, so we want to take good care of you."

"I must thank you for all the kindness you've shown me," the woman replied. "But, these things you've given me to wear, surely I wasn't naked when you found me? What was I wearing?"

Merina's mouth went into a line before she answered. "Your clothing puzzled us, my dear, and it has raised many, many questions we'd hoped you could answer when you woke up. Unfortunately, that is not to be, so we have decided to keep the clothes in a safe place until we can properly find out what is going on. What you were wearing when you were found," she emphasized to the other woman, "would not be seemly for a woman to wear anywhere in Alaesia. That is why you are dressed as you are now, and, if I may say so, very attractive you look too."

"I don't understand any of this," the woman said, her face distressed, "and my head is beginning to hurt again."

"Let's go outside and get some breakfast," Merina said. "I should warn you that you're going to be the center of attention of twenty-four men when you step out of here, but we'll try and make sure you're not overwhelmed."

The three emerged from the enclosed awning into the middle of a crowded space. It seemed all of the men were sitting or standing around eating breakfast. Everyone stopped to stare as the women came out. An older man hurried over to them as soon as they appeared.

"There you are! Did you sleep all right, Merina?"

"Thank you, aye, we all did. My dear," she turned to the woman, "this is my husband Tanon. He owns this wagon train and employs all the men you can see here. Tanon, my dear, I'm afraid I can't properly introduce you to our guest as she doesn't remember her name."

"I'm really sorry to hear that." He extended his hand towards the woman, but she didn't have any idea what she was supposed to do, so kept her hands away from his. "Ah. You don't remember, do you?" He lowered his hand. "Not to worry, I've come across cases in the past of people losing their memory like this, and it usually comes back eventually." He waved his hand around to indicate the camp. "Everyone here will look after your interests, my dear. If you have any problem, you have only to ask. Now, perhaps you'd better get some food before these ravenous men devour it all. Sit you down, I'll get someone to bring some plates and mugs over."

They sat on a bench at a trestle table, facing the fire. Metal plates were brought, with bread and cheese and thin slices of a dark meat. The glazed pottery mugs were filled with a hot drink which seemed to be made with infused herbs. The woman thought some of it tasted familiar, but... nothing came. Tanon came and sat on a small folding stool facing them, his back to the fire.

"I'm sorry for the quality of the food, it's because we're near the end of the trip. We finished all of the fresh food yesterday. We'll do much, much better once we get down into Palarand and our own household."

"How long will that be?" the woman asked.

"The day after tomorrow, we expect to be home again," Merina answered. "The route is almost entirely downhill from here, so there should be very little to hold us up."

The woman surveyed her traveling companions while she ate. Apart from Tanon, the men seemed to be dressed more or less alike, although the colors of their clothes varied. They each wore a long-sleeved tunic of heavy cloth that reached to mid thigh over a pair of thick woolen hose which appeared to go all the way up. Over this most wore a short sleeveless jerkin of either heavy cloth or leather. All wore footwear similar to that worn by the three women. All had wide leather belts with a knife about the length of her forearm on one side and a sword on the other. Some were bare-headed, some had wide-brimmed felt hats, most wore a close-fitting leather cap with a visor. She noticed that some of those who had the leather caps also carried long bows and had quivers of arrows slung diagonally across their backs. The whole scene felt very, very normal, and yet very, very wrong.

Once they had finished eating Silna got up and took their plates and mugs away for cleaning. The men sat around talking in low voices and checking their equipment, but there was no doubt that the attention of most was on the young woman newly attached to their company. Some stared openly, most just kept giving sidelong glances as they cleaned their blades or strung their bows.

After a short while strange noises began to become apparent in the near distance outside the ring of wagons. A middle-aged wiry man who Merina had named as Jaxen stood by the fire and clapped his hands twice to attract attention.

"The beasts are arriving, lads. Time to pack up the camp. Hop to it!"

As if by magic, all the trestle tables, benches and stools vanished and Merina and the strange woman were left standing amidst an organized whirlwind as the camp was struck. The awnings were rapidly taken down and packed, slotting into prepared storage on the sides of the wagons. The cooking equipment went into one of the wagons, the last of the hot water being used to douse the fire. Everyone had finished and was waiting when the first of the beasts lumbered into view.

The strange woman screamed. She backed away from the animal, hiding behind Merina, shocking everyone else in the camp. Merina turned and held her.

"It's all right, my dear! There's nothing to worry about, they're our beasts, they won't hurt you."

Fearful, the woman poked her head around Merina to look at the animal which had approached closest. It was like nothing she had ever seen, a large, barrel-like gray body the size of a... no, the memory wouldn't come. The head was strange too, with curious ears on top and a very large mouth at the front end, two widely spaced nostrils on top of the broad nose. Its body was taller than she was, but that wasn't saying very much. Apart from Silna, she had realized that she was the shortest person in the company. There were four thick legs, and each foot had four toes, two larger central ones with a smaller one each side. Each toe had something midway between a nail and a hoof. She was quite sure that she had never seen anything like it ever before.

"They won't eat you," Merina said. "They only eat grass and leaves. They are quite gentle, really, and they are quite intelligent as well. Come on, I'll introduce you."

Merina took hold of the woman's hand and started walking towards the beast. The woman noted that it had backed itself into the shafts of the wagon, ready to be harnessed, and as she looked around she realized that the other animals had dispersed around the camp and were now similarly waiting to be harnessed to the other wagons, six in all.

"What are they?" the woman asked.

"You've never seen a dranakh before?" Merina asked, surprised. "They're used all over Alaesia for heavy work, I'd be astonished if you haven't come across them."

"No," the woman said positively, "I'm sure I'd remember something like that."

"It might be something to do with your lost memory," Merina said. "Ah, here's Jaxen."

"Mistress? Is our guest all right?"

"I think so, I think it was just the shock of their sudden appearance. I'm going to introduce her to Chek, make sure the team know our guest."

"Good idea, Mistress. I'll stay nearby in case there's a problem."

They approached the dranakh, the woman still unhappy about being so close to such a huge bulk.

"Here we are," said Merina brightly. "Chek, meet a new friend we found yesterday."

The beast's head swayed and turned towards the two women. The eyes that observed them were bright and sharp. Its warm breath enveloped the two women, clean with a hint of mountain herbs from where the beast had been grazing.

"Say hello, dear," Merina instructed.

"Hello," the woman said, tentatively raising her hand to place it on the nose of the huge head. The hide was warm and dry.

"Put your hand in Chek's mouth," Merina said.

"What? I couldn't possibly do that!" The woman pulled her hand rapidly away.

"It's perfectly all right," Jaxen said. "She won't bite you, but she will taste you, so that she knows you're one of us. Once she knows that, the team will defend you if there's any trouble."

"I couldn't possibly do that!"

Jaxen nodded encouragingly. "Aye, it's all right, I'm not making it up, am I, Mistress?"

"No, what Jaxen says is right," Merina confirmed. "Go on, it will only take a moment."

Frightened, the woman held out her hand, and the huge head swivelled towards her. The wide mouth opened and engulfed her arm almost to the elbow. Inside the mouth was hot and, of course, wet. The tongue rasped gently against her skin and then the mouth opened and released her. She noticed that her arm was wet, but not slimy, and it dried off very quickly. The eyes examined her briefly, and then the head turned away again.

"Shall I harness Chek, Mistress?"

"You might as well, seeing as you're here. Where's Felly?"

"In the latrine last I saw, Mistress. He'll be back here by the time we're ready to move off."

They watched as Jaxen harnessed the beast and connected it to the shafts of the wagon. As he worked he asked a question.

"How's our guest going to travel, Mistress? The first part of the road is quite steep, I don't know that I'd want to put her on a wagon."

"No, you're right." Merina turned. "Do you mind walking a little, my dear? Once we get over the top of the pass there the way gets quite steep. We wouldn't want to take any chances with you on a wagon if something goes wrong."

"I'll try," she replied doubtfully. "I don't know how long I'll be able to walk for, though."

"That's all right, Princess," Jaxen said. "We won't be going very fast or very far for the first part of the journey. When we stop about mid-morning for a drink and a rest, we'll sort you out a mount if that's all right."

They stood to one side as the circle of wagons unrolled into a line and headed off up the final slope to the top of the pass. The woman noted that each wagon had a driver who wore a broad-brimmed hat. Most of the rest seemed to be mounted upon another kind of beast, much smaller than the dranakhs but just as odd-looking. Some walked beside the wagons with chocks in hand, ready to place them behind the wheels if the wagons threatened to go astray. She noted that Silna had gained a perch beside one of the wagoneers. Merina and the strange woman began walking behind the wagon train as it headed towards the pass.

~o~O~o~

The mystery woman stumbled yet again and Merina reached out her arm to stop her falling flat on her face.

"I'm sorry, Merina," the woman said, "I can't imagine I'm normally this clumsy."

"It might be because of your head," Merina said, helping her to stand properly. "After all, since you've lost your memory you obviously have some kind of head injury, perhaps it's affected your balance."

"Maybe so," the woman said doubtfully.

The wagon train had been cautiously and laboriously lowering itself down the steep slope of the mountain road for what seemed like most of the morning, although the woman suspected that the interval was nowhere as long as that. Every person had dismounted now. The wagoneers stood in front of their charges, facing uphill, walking backwards, guiding them with clear hand signals. The dranakhs were holding back the wagons, their substantial rear ends straining against the harness that kept the wagons in check. Wagoneer and beast had done this many times before and each thoroughly understood the other. Even the outriders were now walking, leading their smaller beasts by the reins while some stood ready with chocks in case a wagon threatened to break free.

"How are you managing now, dear?" Merina asked. "I hope this isn't too much effort for you after what happened yesterday."

"I don't mind the walking, Merina, at least not at the moment." the other answered. "This slope is making my shins hurt, though. Is there any chance we will be stopping soon? I think I need a drink and a short rest, if you don't mind."

"Let me see. We've got about another mark and a half to go before we reach the first rest place. We usually stop there, by that time everyone will need a breather."

"A mark, Merina? What's that?"

"Oh, it's a measure of distance." Merina had another internal jolt. Didn't everyone in Alaesia know what a mark was? "There are ten thumbs to the foot, a stride is three feet, and a mark is one thousand strides," she recited. "Or, looked at another way, a cast is twenty strides and a mark is fifty casts. Do you not remember any of these measurements at all?"

The woman shook her head. "Not that I remember, no. I can guess what a foot is, and therefore how long a stride is. But what is a cast and what is a mark?"

"Oh, a cast is simply what it says, about the distance a man can throw a handful of seeds. In practice these days it's usually worked out by dividing up a mark. Marks themselves are the distance between certain road marks placed by the sides of all major roads in this part of Alaesia. We'll reach one in a short while and I'll show you."

Jaxen came back up beside the wagon train, towing his beast by its reins.

"I saw you having trouble, Princess. Do you need to stop and rest for a while? I can detail off a couple of men to look after you if you do. I'm sorry that no-one can ride on this stretch, but it's the steepest part of the whole route and it would be too dangerous."

"Thank you, Jaxen, I think I can manage for a little longer. The wagons are moving slowly enough on this part that I can keep up reasonably well. I wouldn't mind some water to wet my mouth, if it's possible."

"Why, of course, Princess! I'll ask Silna to bring a skin back for you and Mistress Merina. Pardon, Mistress, I should have thought of it sooner."

"Not to worry, Jaxen," Merina said. "I'd rather you paid attention to the wagons than to us, but sending Silna back is a good idea, thank you."

Jaxen turned his beast round and led it back down the road towards the front of the convoy.

"Merina, what are those small beasts called, that Jaxen and the men ride?"

"Oh, they are frayen. They are related to dranakhs but aren't anywhere as clever. They will go all day with a man riding them, though, and they are reasonably easy to train. They can bite, though, so keep clear of any that look annoyed."

"Frayen." The woman nodded to herself as she tried to remember all the new names and concepts that were coming her way. "And why does Jaxen call me Princess? Is that what I am?"

"The truth is, my dear, that we don't know what you are. I believe that Jaxen thinks you are high-born because of your good looks and skin, and because of what you were wearing when you were found."

"You mentioned that before. What happened to whatever I was wearing? Can I see it? It might help my memory come back."

"We've put it securely away for now, dear. Since we don't know how you came to be on the mountain, we don't know if you were running away from something or someone. If someone comes looking for you, we don't want to hand you back without knowing the whole story. It might be that you were kidnapped and escaped."

"Oh! I see! Is that possible? Oh, I wish I knew... now my head has begun to hurt again."

"Here comes Silna. Perhaps a drink will help. The air's beginning to get warm now, we mustn't get dehydrated."

"Good, my throat's getting dry. I don't think I mind being called a Princess, even if it is only for a while. I wonder if I really am one?"

Merina smiled. "I've been wondering what to call you until we find out who you are, and Princess seems as good a name as any, so, Princess you will be."

The road had been cut in an arrow-straight line angling down the side of the mountain valley, but at two points there had been subsequent rock falls. The road of necessity had to creep round these, and the quality of the workmanship was noticeably poorer. Between the two rockfalls Merina pointed.

"There! That's a road mark." She indicated a waist-high shaped stone at the side of the road. It had been painted white and there were two sets of lettering outlined in black, one over the other.

The woman looked closely at the stone.

"Those marks, I suppose they are distances each way?"

"Aye, to Palarand and Moxgo."

"There are other markings carved on the stone under the paint."

"Aye, they are the original symbols the Chivans used. Nobody knows what they mean any more, so we have to put our own numbers on instead."

"The Chivans?"

"Aye. Many, many centuries ago a people called the Chivans used to rule an empire which stretched over all this part of Alaesia. They are the ones who built these roads, and they put up these road mark stones on all the main roads linking the towns. Their building skills were so good we're still using most of what they made."

"Chivans. Straight roads. Now, why does that sound familiar?"

"I don't know. All the Chivans are long dead. Perhaps you were taught about them at home?"

The woman shook her head doubtfully. "There's just a fog, I'm afraid."

~o~O~o~

At the rest stop the wagons were circled and everyone took a break. The dranakhs were released and moved off to graze the low vegetation which grew on the slopes at that height. The frayen were all tied to a picket line and given fodder from one of the wagons. The men unpacked some of the benches for everyone to sit on while they took a drink, but there were no tables and no fire was made.

"Do you feel better now, Princess?" Merina asked.

"Yes, thank you, Merina. I didn't feel too bad while we were walking, but now we've stopped and sat down I realize my legs are shaking from the effort. There is another matter, now we've stopped, that I'd better mention." She blushed.

"Oh?"

"Um, my breasts, they are rather sore. I think the cloth of the dress is rubbing them."

"But you -" Merina stopped. The woman hadn't worn anything under that thin shirt she had been wearing, true, but perhaps her choice of clothing had been limited when she'd done whatever she'd done. Clearly, she couldn't travel further without some changes being made.

"Tanon."

"Aye, my dear?"

"I'm sorry, but we're going to need the awning put up. And we're going to need Silna's travel chest." Silna, who had figured out what was about to happen, looked first outraged then resigned. "It won't be for more than a few moments," Merina continued, "we have to adjust... the Princess's clothing."

Tanon raised an eyebrow then gave the order. The awning was erected while some other men unloaded sufficient of their wagon to retrieve the chest. The three women retreated inside the tent as soon as it was ready.

"Mistress -"

"Don't, Silna. You know we don't have any choice in the matter. Now help me take Princess's dress off."

Both Merina and Silna gave silent whistles when they saw the state of the woman's breasts, red and inflamed from rubbing against the heavy fabric of the dress.

"I'm sorry, Mistress, I didn't realize," Silna said. "You want her to have my good bodice?"

"That was my thinking, aye." Merina looked apologetically at Silna. "I'll order a new one made for you when we reach Palarand if you feel uncomfortable with someone else wearing it."

The bodice was a cropped sleeveless garment which covered the whole upper part of the body ending at the waist. It had a scoop neck front and back and was back laced. The one Silna held out was made of a smooth, soft material the woman immediately liked. It was shaped in the front to hold each breast securely, and more importantly, it prevented the dress material from coming into direct contact with them. Once laced correctly and the dress re-fitted the woman knew there would be no further irritation from the cloth. The women repacked Silna's chest and re-emerged, and the men immediately set to repacking everything.

The dranakhs must have had internal timers since they all returned at once, ready to be hitched up again at about the same time the men started standing up and flexing their muscles to loosen them. Jaxen came over to the women.

"Mistress? We can spare a frayen for the Princess for the rest of the journey if that's acceptable. It would mean Silna riding on a wagon, but she's happy riding with Felly if you are."

Merina considered the proposed arrangement. "Let us try, then, Jaxen. The next part of the journey until the midday meal is much flatter than before, so it will give us a chance to see if our guest can ride a frayen." She turned to the woman. "It's a fairly comfortable ride once you get used to it. If it doesn't suit you, we can put you up on a wagon, I think, although that will be more bumpy."

"I'll try anything, Merina. This is all new to me."

The frayen produced for her had a curious wooden construction on its back, like a chair without legs. It looked stable enough, well-padded, and there were arm-rests, but how was she going to ride it in a skirt?

"Put your left foot on this step, Princess, and then pull yourself up by holding here and here." She noticed that Jaxen had hinged the nearest armrest up out of the way. "Now, when your leg is straight, swing your body until you're sat on the seat. Keep your other leg over this side, tucked under your left leg as you sit."

The woman did as she was bid and found herself sitting at an angle on the seat with both legs over the left side.

"That's it," Merina said. "Now, straighten up in the seat, bring your left leg up and over and cross your legs."

The woman tucked each foot under the opposing leg, noticing as she did so that it seemed much easier than she had expected it to. Jaxen pulled the armrest down and secured it with a peg.

"That's good," Merina said. "Now, tuck your knees under the armrests and that will lock you into place in the chair, leaving your hands free. Pull your skirt forward over your knees and tuck the hem under your feet, and that will make sure that you are not showing anything you shouldn't."

Although there were reins they were left looped over a handle across the front of the saddle which supported the seat on the frayen's back. As they moved off one of the men took a leading rein from the woman's mount and from Merina's similar mount and walked in front of them. They were still behind all of the wagons, this being deemed the safest place if one of the wagons became uncontrollable.

The chair swayed alarmingly as the beast got into motion but once moving things became much smoother. The chairs had a back which came up to the woman's shoulders, and together with the armrests she began to feel secure in her seat. Although the road still led downwards it was clear that the hard work was now behind them, at least for a while. The men were all mounted now, riding either side of each wagon as they rolled down the center of the road. The man leading the woman and Merina's mounts had tied off their leading reins to the back of his own mount and their frayen walked docilely along behind his.

As they rode side by side Merina talked to the woman, telling her about herself and Tanon, and about the trading business he ran in five cities. Although most of this was interesting the woman found it difficult to relate to much of what Merina was saying. Everything she was told was understandable, and consistent, but it still just didn't seem entirely right, somehow. Eventually Merina realized that she was overloading her companion and the conversation reduced to occasional comments about the land they were riding through.

The sun was now beginning to get warm. The woman had noticed that it was traveling from right to left and therefore deduced that she was somewhere south of the Equator. The little moon that had attracted her attention during the night was 'scooting' across left-to-right again, but in addition two other moons were now just visible in the bright cloudless sky, one about twice the size of the 'scooter' and a huge one which barely moved. For some reason the appearance of these three just increased the general sense of wrongness about the present situation.

"I'm sorry Merina, what are those three called again?" The woman pointed to the moons. "I know you told me last night, but I was half asleep then."

"That one is Tiede," she pointed to the scooter. "It goes round nearly three times a day. That one is Annis, which takes about seven days, and Kalikan there takes a whole month. Do you really not remember their names at all?"

"I don't think it's the names I can't remember, I'm having difficulty with the fact that there are three moons. There are only three, aren't there?" Merina nodded. "I have a vague recollection that there ought to be only one moon, as big as that one." She pointed to Kalikan. "I can't explain that at all, I'm afraid, it's just that everything seems slightly wrong, somehow."

Merina gave an encouraging smile. "I think it's only to be expected," she said. "Unless your memory tells you something different when you recover it, it seems to us that you're from somewhere else entirely, and the customs of your people, even the animals that you know, are going to be different to ours. That's why everything seems strange. Even so..." she paused. "I would think that all three moons should be visible from all parts of Anmar. It would be strange if they weren't, but there are cleverer people in Palarand than any of us who might tell me something different."

The road followed an undulating route between valleys, gradually getting lower and lower. Occasionally they would have to climb to get over a ridge but the effort needed was slight compared to that at the beginning of the day. The vegetation gradually increased, but there were as yet no trees to be seen. By the time they circled the wagons for the mid-day break, the sun was hot enough that all had their heads covered and were beginning to sweat. There was a mountain lake nearby and when the dranakhs were released they all galloped off and threw themselves in it with joyful grunts and bellows. The frayen, tied to their usual picket line and provided with leather buckets of water, eyed the lake with envy but knew that their owners would never allow them the freedom the dranakhs enjoyed.

The awnings were unpacked but only the roofs erected on the corner poles to provide some shade for the resting men. The meal was the usual traveling fare, beer or water, bread which was by now beginning to harden, some cheese and slices of cured meat together with some unidentifiable dried fruit. After they had all eaten everyone found a shady place and began dozing off. Realizing that this was a sensible thing to do in the middle of a very hot day the woman followed suit. They were all woken by a rumble as the dranakhs reappeared having decided that it was time to move on.

The afternoon was a repeat of the morning. The woman gradually realized that they were traveling north-west or north, assuming her judgment of the sun's movement had been correct. In that direction, unlike most other directions when the terrain permitted a view, there were no high mountains visible in the distance. This, together with the gradual lowering of altitude, suggested that they were coming to the end of the mountainous part of their journey. That this was so was proven quite dramatically when they reached the evening camping stop.

The road angled away from the valley across a small plateau towards a low rock wall which defined the farther edge. The wide cleared space which the wagons entered contained two buildings set against the wall, one of stone which looked extremely old although there was evidence of extensive repair, the other building was wooden and obviously of more recent construction. Outside this latter there were four traveler's wagons, three to one side and the other almost as far away as it could get. There were frayen tied to a rail outside this building.

Jaxen drew the wagons into a circle as far away from the wooden building as possible, then, while the men set up camp, he rode off towards the stone building. As he reached it a door opened and someone came out to greet him. Soon afterwards he returned to the camp.

"Nothing, Master Tanon," he said as he dismounted. "We're the first for three days to come in from the Moxgo direction. So, if the Princess came from a caravan, it was traveling away from Palarand rather than towards it."

"I thought as much," Tanon replied. "But, the only people we passed between Moxgo and where we found the... Princess... were Pondool and Jaynek, and I know both of them well. I can't believe either would get mixed up in... whatever's going on here."

The object of their discussion had been helped down from her mount, and now stood stretching her legs.

"Where are we?" she asked, looking at the buildings.

"This place doesn't have a name, Princess," Jaxen told her. "It's the very edge of the land that Palarand controls. The stone building there is a sort of border station, although there's no real border up here in the mountains. It's left over from the days when the mountains used to be really wild and bandits were everywhere, now there's just a few men who help out with the Messenger Service and assist any travelers who get into difficulty."

Her eyes flicked towards the other building.

"Ah, that's Joon's bar," Jaxen said. "As we're about as far as you can get from Moxgo without actually arriving in Palarand, many travelers are short of foodstuffs by the time they get to here. Joon saw an opportunity to sell them fresh produce and drink - for a price. Most caravans know never to go near the place, but there's enough independent travelers for him to make a living, I guess. He has a reputation for knowing some unsavory characters, if you understand me. Not a place that an unaccompanied woman should ever go near," he warned her.

"Jaxen," Merina asked, "would you mind taking the Princess and myself over to the lookout? There's still enough light for us to have a good look at the Great Valley and we'll be out of the way while the food is prepared."

"Of course, Mistress. I'll get a couple of men to come along as well."

Jaxen led the small group between the two buildings and through a narrow gap in the rock face behind. Abruptly there was empty space in front of her. There was a ledge that could hold maybe fifteen people, a waist-high wall of dressed stone, then nothing. There was an armed man there, his gaze intent on something in the distance. When he saw the party he turned, nodded to Jaxen and then went back to whatever he was doing. The woman walked towards the wall and took her first look at the Great Valley.

She was standing at a vantage point near the top of a high cliff, she had no reference points for how high. At the foot of the cliff the mountains stopped abruptly and the valley began. In the distance, more mountains reared up abruptly beyond the flat land between and continued into the vague distance. Shadows from the lowering sun were already beginning to hide the detail of some of what was visible, but there was much that could still be made out, like the river which dominated the valley in front of her.

The river meandered lazily across the whole valley from side to side and from end to end as far as the eye could make out. There were great sinuous loops, meanders with meanders on them wandering across the entire flatness of the plain. There were a number of curved lakes, too, formed when meanders got so big they cut through the necks of the land between. One such was in front of them, huge, with a recognizable town in the land in the middle although the details couldn't be made out from this distance. Merina pointed to it.

"That's Palarand, our destination. I think you'll like it, though I could be biased. We plan to be back home by lunchtime the day after tomorrow."

"But how? How do we get down this cliff?"

"We can't, of course. The road loops away and down that valley behind us. It's not steep, you'll see, we'll be at the canal bridge in no time at all. Look there, that's what I'm talking about."

Merina pointed to her extreme left where a valley must have come out of the mountain range. A road wound down and crossed a long bridge over a canal which joined the river to the curved lake.

"Ox-bow lake," the woman said suddenly.

"What? What's that?" Merina asked.

"That's what that kind of lake is called," was the reply. "It just came to me."

"What's that word you used? I didn't recognize it."

"Ox-bow," the woman said, "because it's the shape of..." she stopped, her face pained. "I... don't know," she said. "I just had this memory, and now it's gone. I'm seeing the shape of a beast, but it's not like anything I've seen recently. The head of a beast, with... something on top of its head. I can't describe it. Ow. My head hurts again. Can we go back, please? I think I have to sit down."

Shaking her head, Merina led the way back to the camp where the meal was being organized. Most of the men were eating and drinking but there was still sufficient of the food left to feed Merina and the woman. The woman ate slowly, her head still pounding from the recent flashback. What could it mean?

By the time they had finished eating it was clear that the 'Princess' was disturbed and uncomfortable. Silna took her into their tented accommodation while Merina climbed into the back of the wagon to retrieve something. When she joined the other women she was holding a leather satchel.

"This is what you were wearing when we found you, my dear," she said, opening the satchel. "You can understand that we didn't think they were really suitable for you. They aren't yours, are they?"

The woman looked curiously at the clothing in the dim light of the lamps, turning the items this way and that and feeling the texture of the cloth between her fingertips.

"I don't know exactly," the woman said, "but I think that they are mine. I get a curious echo sensation when I look at them, as though I should recognize them. I was wearing these?"

"You were. We wondered if you had stolen them from your captors to make your escape."

The woman shook her head slowly. "I don't recall anything like that happening to me at all, Merina. But I think these things are my clothes, not someone else's."

"What about these?" Merina asked, shaking some of the coins into her hand. "These are money, aren't they?"

"Oh, yes, they are, Merina. Again, there's a strange kind of echo. I don't remember any more than that, though."

"What about -" Merina pulled one of the strange floppy rectangles out from the folder, "- these?"

The woman took the thing and peered at it. "Yes, these are money also, I know they are. Odd looking things, aren't they?"

Exasperated, puzzled and beginning to need her rest, Merina packed the items away and returned the satchel to its hiding place before rejoining the other women and making themselves ready for sleep. Outside, most of the men retired as well. Tanon took a moment to talk to Jaxen before he joined his own servant in the awning they shared.

"This woman is becoming more of a mystery, Jaxen. If she didn't come from Palarand, and she didn't come from Moxgo, then how did she get there?"

"Fell out of the sky, perhaps, Master? I'm not being entirely serious, but still..."

"She can't have fallen far, if I take you literally, else she would have had all her bones crushed by the fall. I can't imagine any other way she might have got there."

"It is possible to cross the mountains by not using the road, of course," Jaxen ruminated, swilling the remains of his drink in its mug, "but if that were the case, we would have seen signs of wear on her clothing and footwear, which in any case are totally inadequate for such a journey." He looked at Tanon. "Perhaps there is sorcery involved."

"Hah! I don't think so," Tanon replied. "All that nonsense was disproved hundreds of years ago. Next you'll be telling me that she was brought by the bisken."

"The little people?" Jaxen shrugged. "At the moment I don't know what to believe, Master. I suspect that when we do eventually find out, I'm not going to understand the answer in any case."

"I'm inclined to agree. Did you hear what Merina said before, that the Princess had some flashes of memory when she was standing at the lookout post?"

"Aye, Master, though I don't know what to make of it."

"I think that the dam is beginning to crack, and when it cracks it should all come back in a flood. I hope that's going to be soon, or we could find ourselves having to make difficult decisions when we get home."

Jaxen nodded. "You're still intent on going to Viridor, I hope?"

"Of course. I don't know that we have much choice, given the sums involved. I think she'll have to be taken to the palace. There are sufficient clever people working for Robanar to be able to solve this problem, I think."

Dranakh: Think of a land-based hippopotamus and the physical characteristics would be about right. Temperamentally, though, these creatures are nothing like hippos.

Frayen: Something about the size and proportions of a mule, perhaps. The body is thick-skinned and gray in color. The neck and head look like that of a hornless rhino.

As the caravan travels towards Palarand the mystery woman's flashes of memory and the accompanying headaches become more frequent. After refreshing themselves at Tanon's mansion a visit to the palace reveals perplexing news.

Somewhere Else Entirely

by Penny Lane

3 - At Palarand

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 by Penny Lane. All rights reserved.

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The overnight sky had been clear so the early morning air was cold but not unpleasantly so. The woman was glad of her thick dress as she stood in front of the fire to get warm. Unlike the previous morning breakfast was crushed grains boiled in milk to make a kind of porridge. She was almost sick when she thought about where the milk must have come from, but then sense reasserted itself. Why not? It was a natural farmyard occurrence, after all. Her uncle kept a herd of - a shaft of pain stabbed into her brain. Ow! She staggered over to the bench and joined Merina and Silna.

"Another memory, my dear?" Merina recognized the symptoms.

"Yes, another one. About a farm..."

"You lived on a farm?" Merina raised her eyebrows and a relieved look came on Silna's face.

"No, I don't think so," the woman replied slowly. "I think I have an uncle who owns a farm... I was thinking about milk," she finished.

Silna's face fell. If this woman's relatives owned farms then she might very well be high-born.

"Oh. I think I understand," Merina said. "If there aren't any dranakhs where you come from, then the milk must have come from a different animal. Do you think you remember the shape of the animal? Could you draw it for us, perhaps?"

"I don't think so, Merina, I'm sorry. When I had that thought, then the pain came. I'm not sure I could draw much anyhow at the moment."

Merina's face remained speculative as they finished their meal and packed up ready to leave. The dranakhs appeared, backing themselves between the wagon shafts as the men mounted their frayen ready for the next part of their journey.

The road curved away from the plateau to rejoin the valley they had been following previously and it led away from the cliff back towards the mountains. But it was evident that this trend wouldn't last long, and soon a gentle curve began which dropped them steadily towards warmer regions. A pull-in at the side of the road was sufficient for them to take their morning break and then they were off again. Trees began to appear, and soon the road was bordered on both sides by open woodland.

The sky lightened ahead and the woman sensed that they were coming towards the end of the mountain part of the journey. It was difficult to determine just where the cliffs were because of the tree cover. Again the caravan halted, this time to take lunch. The trail stew had all gone and all that was left was old bread, cheese, a little meat and a quantity of dried fruit.

"Do not be too concerned, my dear," Merina told the woman. "This should be the last meal we have to take from our own supplies, which is just as well. Once we get down into the Valley we will be able to get fresh food and drink and even find somebody else to cook our meals for us."

The woman frowned. "Why would they do that?"

"Once over the canal and into Palarand proper we'll reach a major route which runs along the Great Valley. There are many stops for travelers and food is usually available at all of them."

"Oh."

As before, the awnings were put up but without side walls and the whole company apart from two lookouts took their afternoon nap. Here under the trees it was cooler and more pleasant and it was easy to drift off. After some while a familiar rumble awoke the sleepers and the caravan was made ready again for the road. Now, so close to home, there was a certain amount of anticipation.

The road burst out from the trees and they were finally in the Great Valley. They came out on a slight slope formed by material washed out of the side valley down which they had descended, which meant that she could get a clear view of her surroundings. Most was flat, inevitable given the windings of the great river. The mountains on either side of the Valley marched away in straight lines which triggered another half-remembered flash from her past, but this time she didn't try to follow it and the pain which followed was reduced.

At the bottom of the slope their road crossed another which ran along the valley, close to the southern wall. In one of the corners of the crossroads there was a pull-in and the caravan stopped for toilet breaks and more of the hot herbal drink. Everybody seemed much more relaxed now that they appeared to be in friendly country but the men still kept a careful eye out for approaching riders or wagons. Once they had refreshed themselves the caravan set off again along their original route. The road ran arrow-straight across the plain and the dranakhs seemed to pick up speed.

Soon they came to the bridge over the canal. It was wide enough for two wagons to pass and was of a substantial wooden design, well maintained. There was a drawbridge at the far end but it was lowered. A group of men stood waiting for them, all heavily armed, but as soon as Tanon was recognized most went back into the small stockade which stood at one side of the road beyond the bridge. The caravan rumbled over the bridge and stopped.

"Master Tanon!" one man called, walking towards the caravan owner. "A good trip?" He smiled. "As if you make trips which aren't good!"

"Aye, thank you," Tanon replied. He handed down a small bag to the man. "The right traders were in Moxgo so we managed to find some good bargains this trip," he added. "But we can't stop, I'm afraid. We must needs call at the palace tomorrow and then we're off to Viridor."

The man laughed. "Right you are, we shan't keep you. No problems on the mountain road?"

"Nothing that should worry you, I think," Tanon replied. "But I may change my view on that once we've been to the palace. If so you'll be told, I expect."

"Ah? Oh, well, I'll await orders, then. Off you go."

The dranakhs moved off again, this time at a more reasonable speed. The way was over flat cultivated farmland now, the fields full of ripening grains and vegetables at this time of year, soon to be harvested. The dranakhs carried on for a short distance beyond the canal and then arrived at a junction to meet a highway running along the center of the valley floor.

They pulled off in front of what was obviously a more organized rest stop. There was a large, low building beside the road and behind it a flat area where caravans and other traffic were parked. Beyond that were corrals which held dranakh and frayen. There were several other wagons there, singly and in groups, and Jaxen was careful to pick a spot away from the other travelers to circle their own wagons.

"This is where we always stop for the last night on the way home," Merina explained after they had dismounted. "We'll have a reasonable meal here, the prices are controlled within Palarand proper, not like that bandit at the top of the cliff, and the food is quite good as well."

With several of the men left to guard the wagons the rest walked towards the building, which proved to be not one but four separate blocks surrounding a square courtyard. Merina and Silna led the woman to one of the doorways which proved to be a toilet and bathing facility. The woman was pleasantly surprised at the difference from the latrines she had been using so far. The floors were smoothed wood and the walls were tiled. The toilet, however, was still a hole in the floor, even if it was of superior construction. After washing their hands and faces they went outside again to where Tanon and Jaxen were waiting.

Once everybody had returned from the rest rooms they crossed the courtyard to an open-air eating facility which consisted of tables and benches or chairs beneath canvas awnings. One side of the nearest building was open showing men and women busy preparing food for travelers. The owner recognized Tanon and Merina and came outside, cleaning his hands on a cloth, to shake hands with Tanon and enquire after his journey. Nobody mentioned their extra traveler.

Tables were chosen, Tanon, Merina, Jaxen and the woman sitting together around one. It was a pleasant change to have a proper cooked meal of meat, vegetables and gravy followed by fruit instead of the traveling diet. The woman began to wonder what Palarand was going to be like.

"Rift Valley," she said suddenly, lowering the knife and spoon she had been given to eat with.

"Pardon, my dear?"

"Rift Valley," the woman repeated. "That's what this valley is. Sometimes the forces in the earth are so great it cracks. When you get two cracks side by side the ground between can slip down. That's how this valley was formed and why there are mountains either side. The river came later."

Tanon and Merina looked at one another. A crack in the ground sixty marks wide?

"Is this something from your past, my dear?" Merina asked.

"I... think so," the woman said. "I'm not quite sure where that came from, though, or what it means."

The apparent random remark about matters neither had ever considered worried both Tanon and Merina. If this strange young woman ever did get her memory back, was she likely to be so different to them that they would have difficulty understanding her? If this were so, what must the society be like that she came from? And where exactly on Anmar was it? What would happen when more of her kind arrived, would it be a time of advancement or a time of chaos? Both unsettled, they resumed eating and tried not to think about what the future might bring.

As the meal ended Jaxen asked, "Master, how do you want to sleep tonight?"

It seemed an odd question but Tanon saw what he had implied.

"I think tonight we'll sleep with the wagons, Jaxen. Our cargo is sufficiently valuable that none would question it."

Jaxen nodded when he noticed the double meaning.

"As you say, Master. I'll tell the boys to get the awnings up."

It seemed much warmer and more humid down here in the valley and it took the woman some time to fall asleep. Despite the presence of other caravans and sundry travelers at the stop nothing disturbed her. In the morning Merina woke her and they made their way to the bath house again. Merina looked thoughtful.

"My dear, there are baths here and we could all do with a wash, could we not? Normally we wait until we reach home, which will only be in about three to four bells time. If you can wait that long we can bathe in privacy at our own mansion. That way there will be no awkward questions to answer."

The woman thought. "I have not been traveling as long as you have, Merina. I think I can wait until we get to the end of the journey."

The party went over to the eating area again and took breakfast, this time of grain porridge but there was also bread, meat, cheese and fruit available for those who wanted it. Also, of course, the hot herbal drink was provided for Merina and the woman. This time Tanon and Jaxen had instead what looked like beer in their mugs. Towards the end of the meal Jaxen sent some of the men off to begin packing up the caravan and as Tanon, Merina and the woman rose the others went to collect their beasts from the corrals. At the circle of wagons the dranakhs appeared, bellowing and wheezing as they backed between the wagon shafts.

"What's made them so excited?" the woman asked.

"By lunchtime they'll be home, Mistress," Felly told her as he adjusted the straps to secure Chek in place. "We won't use these beasts again after so long a journey but another team. They know it is flat the rest of the way, and they know that once they get home they'll be allowed to run in the fields for a few days, probably till we get back from Viridor in fact. Like most of us, they don't mind traveling, but they like getting home again."

Soon they remounted and resumed traveling along the straight road. What appeared to be the river approached, and the woman understood it to be the crescent-shaped lake she had seen from the lookout post high on the cliff. The wagon train crossed this on an ancient stone viaduct, the middle arch of which had been replaced by a wooden span. Thinking about it, she supposed it to have been built by those ancient empire-builders when this lake had been part of the river.

The dranakhs were pulling the wagons along with a will, almost galloping with their enthusiasm to get home. The wagoneers kept them in check but it was evident that whatever the dranakhs wanted they were not prepared to put anyone or anything in danger. The frayen, with a much shorter stride, rolled and bounced along as they tried to keep up with the wagons. Here it would have been a help if the woman could control her own beast, but she was reluctant to do so given the present circumstances, and no-one really expected that she should attempt such a thing.

As the town approached buildings began to appear beside the road, usually farmsteads to begin with but increasingly what the woman imagined were mansion houses or villas surrounded by formal gardens. Nearly all of these buildings, the woman noticed, were on stilts. Eventually it became clear that they were no longer in the country but within the outskirts of what was a sizable town. The dranakhs, sensing the increased traffic, slowed down to a more sedate pace.

"Jaxen, if you would see to the cargo and the beasts. I'll take Merina and the Princess to our home. They will certainly want to freshen up and change if I know women."

"Aye, Master. Do you want me to join you later?"

"I would think so, unless there's a problem unloading the cargo. Moris can usually handle that all right. We'll endeavor to leave for the palace about the ninth bell, I think. That should give us time to make ourselves presentable and Robanar should be able to spare us some time by then."

"Right you are, Master Tanon. The ninth bell it is."

"Don't forget to make sure we'll be ready to leave at first light tomorrow."

Jaxen rolled his eyes. "Aye, Master Tanon."

Most of the houses they had passed on the wide road were made of timber but increasingly the houses became larger and made of brick, one or two stories high. The windows were mostly leaded with multiple panes each no bigger than a man's hand. Most were brightly decorated in a variety of colors and the gardens in front of most were well-kept.

They came to a massive stone wall with an ornate arched gateway through which the road led. At this point Jaxen, five of the the wagons and most of the men turned left and followed the wall along a road outside it. The last wagon, Tanon, Merina, Silna, Tanon's servant Briggen, the woman and four of the men went through the gate into what Merina informed the woman was called the 'Old Town'. The roads inside were narrower and much more busy with traffic of all kinds. They threaded a route through various streets and eventually slowed in front of a large house which occupied an entire block.

The wagon, which the woman realized was the one that contained all their possessions, led the way through a pair of double gates at the side of the old wooden building into a central courtyard.

"Home," Merina said with relief as she slid from her frayen. "Come on, I'll show you where everything is."

"Mistress?" Silna came over as soon as she had dismounted.

"A bath for all of us, I think," Merina said, "some lunch and then we'll have to look out some clothes for the Princess here fit to be presented to a King. We'll have until the ninth bell, so Tanon said earlier."

"I heard, Mistress. I'll organize the hot water." Silna pushed her way through a door into the building. It was obvious that she had some authority here in the house where her mistress lived. Merina and her guest followed more slowly, Tanon remaining behind ensuring that the beasts were all stabled and looked after and that their wagon was unloaded without anything being stolen or lost.

"Welcome to my home, dear," Merina said, holding the door open, and the woman entered. There were servants waiting, but most had dispersed when Silna entered with instructions, the few remaining greeting Merina with deference as well as smiles of welcome. They cast curious glances at the strange woman, recognizing Silna's dress and wondering what her connection with their mistress could be.

"This young woman joined us on the road from Moxgo over the mountains," Merina explained. "She has lost her memory and has no suitable clothes. We will be taking her to the palace at the ninth bell, so we're going to have a bath, some lunch and then sort out something suitable for her to wear."

The house was wood-framed with plastered walls between the timbers, which looked old. It was big, the corridors and rooms which could be seen from the entrance being of substantial size. Merina led the way through to a large hallway behind what was obviously the front entrance. She paused.

"I was going to suggest we bathed first, but it might save some time if we took a small side trip," she said. "One of the dress-makers I patronize is just across the street. If we go there and tell him what we need, he may be able to find something that fits you while we bathe and eat and then you'll be able to try it on once you're clean."

The woman realized that she had worn the same clothes without removing them except briefly for three straight days and her whole outfit was dusty and creased from the traveling. No, it wouldn't be a good idea to be trying things on in this state.

"Yes, Merina, if you think that's best."

They had to wait while a carriage pulled by four frayen passed before they could cross the cobbled street and enter a commercial premises immediately opposite. A small man came forward to greet them as the door swung shut.

"Mistress Merina! I saw your wagon arrive, I trust you had a successful expedition?"

"Master Korond." Merina returned the greeting. "Aye, I think we can safely say that the trip was successful. We have a whole wagon full of cloth even now being unpacked in the warehouse, including everything you asked us to find for you. In fact, Tanon has managed to bring two bolts of the finest silk you may wish to consider."

The man's mouth dropped. "No doubt at great expense, Mistress."

"Regrettably aye, Korond, the prices in the market were higher than we expected. But just wait until you see it, you may wish to have a few lengths. Tanon did say to me that he was willing to split the bolt if absolutely necessary."

"Did he now? I shall take my cutter over early tomorrow morning, then, when I go to collect my order. But who have we here? You haven't introduced us, Mistress."

"That's because she doesn't currently have a name," Merina explained. To Korond's raised eyebrow she continued, "She has lost her memory, and also has nothing to wear. We will be taking her to the palace at about the ninth bell because they might better know what to do with her. Is it possible you have something secreted away which might be suitable for someone being presented to Robanar?"

Korond's face became startled and then intent as he considered the problem.

"Why, I suppose we might, Mistress. I will need to get Jensy to measure her, of course, but I think I might have a gown or two for someone her size. To lend or to buy, Mistress?"

Merina looked surprised. "Why, I don't know, Master Korond! I hadn't considered that. Let me think." She paused for a moment, then said, "Lend to start with, I think. When we come back from the palace we'll probably know better what kind of gowns she'll need."

Korond nodded. "Aye, of course." He turned to the door at the back of the shop. "Jensy!"

An older woman bustled through the rear door and then stopped when she saw Korond had customers.

"Why, it's Mistress Merina! What is it I can do for you today?"

"Jensy, Tanon's train has just arrived back from Moxgo. Can you take Merina's guest through to the changing room and measure her, please?" Korond asked her. "Then while she and Mistress Merina go home and clean themselves up, we can have a root through the gown stock out back and see if we can find something that fits her. Mistress Merina is taking her to the palace this afternoon."

"Of course, Master Korond. This way, Mistress."

Jensy led the woman through the back door and into a changing area.

"We'll have to take your gown off, Mistress, so I can get accurate measurements. We don't need to take your undergarments off though."

Jensy wrinkled her nose when she removed the dress. Days of travel under a hot sun through dusty terrain had made a mess of it. The woman realized that even Silna's bodice was stained with sweat and she felt guilty about the damage she might be causing to the maid's clothing. Jensy reached for a long thin strip of cloth hanging from a rail.

Tape measure, thought the woman. I don't recognize the marks on it, though. Suppose I can't read or write? How will I manage?

Jensy efficiently took all the required measurements, writing them down with chalk on a slate before helping the woman put the dress back on. They returned to the main room where Merina was describing the journey she had made with Tanon and what they had bought and sold in the cities they had visited. The two took their leave with Korond's promise to bring over some garments after the lunchtime nap.

Crossing the road brought another headache to the woman. Merina looked at her with concern as they were let back into the front door of Tanon's mansion.

"What is it this time, dear? Another memory?"

"Yes," the woman said. "It was peculiar. I could see carriages, many carriages, but there were no animals pulling them. They were made all from rounded metal which was brightly painted, and each had huge windows on every side. The road was smooth and black."

"No animals?" Merina asked sceptically. "Then how were they pulled along?"

"I think," the woman said cautiously, "that they moved themselves. I know that sounds crazy but I also know it's true. I don't remember any more details, though."

Merina shrugged and filed the occurrence away for later. She led the woman back into a central hallway and then up stairs which led to a long corridor. At one end of this corridor was a tiled room and next to it a disrobing chamber.

"I know we dressed you before, when we found you, but you were unconscious then," Merina said apologetically. "It occurs to me that you might not wish to have your body seen by others. Do you think that might be so? I know there are cities where they have such customs."

The woman shrugged. "I have no idea," she said. "If you've already seen my body, I can't see the harm in your seeing it again, I'm sure."

"Very well, then," Merina smiled. "Let's get undressed. Do you mind if we help each other? I think Silna will be along shortly but we might as well start."

Silna appeared as they had almost finished.

"Thank you for starting, Mistress. The water's ready, because we were expected back it was already simmering in the boiler. Toman and Shern are ready to start pumping."

"Aye, do so, please."

Silna gave the order and then the two women helped her to strip off. The three went through a side door into the tiled room where a huge tub filled up much of the floor. Two pipes ran up a side wall and emptied into the tub, hot water from one and cold from the other. When the temperature had been adjusted to Silna's satisfaction they all climbed in, letting the water relax their muscles after the days of travel.

Once refreshed Silna used blocks of hard soap to wash first her mistress and then her guest, then they both helped to clean Silna before rinsing each other thoroughly. Finally they stepped out and put on fluffy wrap-round robes and simple wood-soled sandals before Merina led them back along the corridor and down the stairs. A further walk through downstairs corridors led to an airy room overlooking the courtyard, where the woman could see the wagon being unloaded and, at one side, Tanon and Jaxen checking it over for any damage.

"Sit down, dear," Merina said. "Now we're clean we can eat our lunch in some comfort."

She issued orders to a number of staff and the table was quickly laid for lunch. As this was being completed Tanon appeared, wiping his hands on a towel.

"I'll bathe later, dear," he said to Merina. "There was a small problem with the wagon that could not wait."

"Will that cause any delay to our journey to Viridor?" she asked.

"I don't think so, dear. It should be put right this afternoon."

Only Tanon, Merina and the woman sat at the table. Silna stood behind her mistress but served both her and the woman when required. When they had finished Merina rose and conducted her guest back upstairs to a small bedchamber.

"If you would take your nap in here, my dear," Merina suggested. "Tanon and I will be just along the corridor. Silna will come and wake you when it is time to dress."

The bed was soft and smelled nice. The woman lay on the top and fell asleep almost immediately and it seemed no time at all before Silna was gently shaking her. A trip to the toilet followed and then Silna took her to what was obviously Tanon and Merina's suite. Tanon was nowhere in evidence but Merina welcomed the woman.

"Time to find you something to wear, dear."

By the time Korond and Jensy arrived with an armful of gowns they were all dressed in fresh bodices and underskirts, the guest's being a mixture donated by the other female staff. A butler showed Korond and his assistant into the suite.

"Mistress," Korond said, uncomfortable at being in such a place, "I have four gowns which may fit your guest. They are all of slightly different shapes and sizes. It may be necessary to whip up the hem, I have brought shears, needle and thread against any need for adjustment. Can I leave you in Jensy's capable hands?"

"Aye, of course, Master Korond. Why don't you go downstairs with Vorn and he can give you a glass or two of wine while you wait?"

When the four women came down stairs Korond nearly dropped his goblet.

"Mistress Merina! You have a real treasure here! That gown suits her so well I'm tempted to offer it as a gift, whatever we discussed before."

Merina smiled. "Aye, she cleans up very well, doesn't she? Jaxen calls her 'Princess' because she might very well be, you can see that now yourself, can't you?"

The woman's hair had been cleaned and brushed and a comb each side held it back. She wore a mid-calf length gown of blue velvet with an insert of white satin brocade from the low neckline to waist. White satin slippers could just be seen below the hem. Merina wore a dress of dark green velvet with a cream-colored insert, Silna had a dress of very dark blue, good quality material but no-one would mistake her for anything but a servant.

"I'm tempted to come along," Korond said, "just to see the look on Robanar's face when you present her, but I'd only be getting in the way. Ah, here's Tanon. What a beauty you found, Tanon."

Tanon had on a dark red velvet sleeveless coat over a gray satin tunic and dark blue leggings. He nodded to Jensy and greeted the others briefly."Merina, Silna, Princess. You look magnificent, all three of you." He turned to the draper and each clasped the other's forearm. "Korond, old friend. We had a good trip, I have all your wants. Come over later, we'll discuss the whole business over some wine but we have to be going to the palace shortly. Aye, this young woman is interesting, isn't she? I expect she'll be even more interesting once we find out more about her."

"Aye, so Merina has been telling me. Jensy and I will take our leave, then. Till later."

They rode in a four-wheeled carriage pulled by four frayen through the increasingly crowded streets of Palarand. Jaxen sat on the top seat beside the driver, the satchel on his lap. Some ornate wrought-iron gates marked the entrance to the palace and then they were dismounting in a courtyard. Since getting dressed the woman had suffered a continuous low headache accompanied by buzzing so she didn't take in much of what went on around her during the trip. They entered a wide set of entrance doors and a liveried footman guided the group along wide, richly furnished corridors.

Jaxen looked uncomfortably out of place in what the woman assumed was his only presentable suit of clothes. He kept close by her, trying to reassure her as they walked.

"Robanar is a good man, Mistress. You can trust him to help you find out who you are. He has a number of wise men helping him, I can't imagine they won't be able to make sense of all this mystery."

"Jaxen, I don't doubt you're right, but at the moment I just want to go and lie down somewhere quiet," she replied. "My head's been pounding ever since we got in the carriage. We've been traveling for days, I think I need a rest."

"I forget what it's like to those who aren't used to the roads, Princess. Not to worry, I'm sure that once you've been presented we can go home and relax for a while."

As they were talking they had come into a large room. Either side against the walls were ornate padded chairs, and at the far end two heavily-decorated chairs stood unoccupied.

Merina turned to the pair. "It looks like Robanar is occupied elsewhere," she said. "He might be busy. It's difficult to tell what he might be doing, we didn't have an appointment to see him."

"Perhaps we should sit down, Mistress, while we wait?" Jaxen suggested to Merina. "The Princess is feeling a little fragile after all that's happened today."

There were other groups of people standing talking in the big room, and a young man broke away from the nearest group and came directly towards them. His eyes had unerringly found the stranger in their party, and he looked intrigued.

"What's this? Greetings, Tanon, Merina. Did I hear your man say you had a Princess with you?"

"It's not quite that simple, Your Highness," Tanon replied. He turned towards the woman. "This is Prince Keren, Robanar's son. Highness, the young woman here has lost her memory. We found her in the mountains on the road from Moxgo three days ago, and we are bringing her to your father since the situation is complicated and we have to leave early tomorrow morning to go to Viridor. There are... disturbing aspects to this whole business which Robanar needs to know about as soon as possible."

Tanon gently took hold of the Prince's arm and motioned him away into an open space where they might not be overheard. Keren's attention was torn between his curiosity about the beautiful young woman who had suddenly appeared at court and the news which Tanon was trying to tell him. The two had a low-voiced discussion, pausing every now and then to look at the woman who gazed back without apparent interest. Keren came to a decision and said something to Tanon before striding out of the room through a door beside the thrones. Tanon returned to the group.

"He says that Robanar is doing something with the kingdom's accounts at the moment, but he'll try and see if the King can spare us some moments. We'd better take some seats, it could be a long wait."

They sat down and the woman immediately slumped against Merina.

"I'm sorry Merina, it's just all too much at the moment," she said. "It's a great deal to take in all at once, and my headache seems to be getting worse."

"There there, child," Merina comforted her with an arm, "I keep forgetting what an ordeal you must have had before we ever found you. I promise once today is over you can have a few days just recovering quietly at our house. What do you say to that?"

"Thank you, Merina, that's most kind. You've been very kind to me ever since you found me. I don't like to think what might have happened if someone else had found me, someone less friendly. But, the problem is, you see, that it all seems wrong, somehow."

"Wrong? How can us finding you be wrong?"

"I don't mean that kind of wrong, I'm sorry. I can't begin to describe it, but it's just a feeling I'm having, that's been getting stronger all day. Like the houses aren't quite right, or the animals are strange, what clothes people are wearing, things like that."

"I told you before," Merina said, "if wherever you come from is very different to this, then you are going to find things strange. I think it should all settle down once you get your memory back, and as you get familiar with life in Palarand."

"But... do I have to stay here? Is there a way to get me home?"

"Until we can determine exactly where your home is," Tanon said, "we can't start to solve that problem, can we?"

After a short wait their conversation was cut short by the reappearance of Prince Keren.

"I have convinced my father that it would be prudent for him to listen to what you say," he said to Tanon, "so if your party would come with me... what's the matter with the Princess?"

"She has a bad headache," Tanon explained. "We think it is connected to her memory loss."

"Of course. We'll walk slowly." Keren held out his hand to the woman. She took it and rose to her feet, giving him a small smile of gratitude. The Prince was the first person of about her own age that she had seen since she regained consciousness, and she was not entirely sure how to behave in front of him. He put her at ease with a smile and a waved hand, and they set off through the rear door into another corridor. Eventually they came to a stout wooden door which the Prince opened.

Inside the chamber were a number of tables with men seated behind them. All the tables were completely covered with books, scrolls and loose documents, as were the many shelves which lined every wall. The largest table, in front of the big window that flooded the room with light had seated behind it the largest man, who stood as the visitors entered the room.

The King was a broad man, not exceptionally tall but with a powerful presence that spoke of years of rule. His hair was graying but otherwise there were few signs of age. Although he looked like a man with a strong personality his manner was friendly, and he smiled as he recognized his visitors.

"Master Tanon! Mistress Merina! I gather you had an interesting trip."

"Your Majesty." Tanon bowed, followed by all the men, while Merina and Silna curtseyed. The woman awkwardly followed suit once she realized what was going on. Tanon continued.

"This young woman was discovered under unusual circumstances on the road from Moxgo, three days ago. What we have learned so far is sufficiently disturbing that we considered it prudent to bring the details to you immediately we arrived." Robanar's eyebrows raised. "As you may be aware, we must leave at first light tomorrow for Viridor, to settle a bargain which will bring many, many crowns to your treasury."

"Hah." Robanar gestured around at the accountants seated at the other tables. "My accounts are worse than yours, Tanon, and you're not making my life any easier! Is this the woman?"

"Aye, Sire. Sire, she has lost her memory. What flashes she has had of her past just seem to make the puzzle more complicated. We are not versed in such things, but we know you have knowledgeable men here at the palace who may be."

Robanar grinned. "So, you want to go off to Viridor after a bargain, and you want to dump this young woman on me while you're gone?" Tanon looked offended but then he realized that Robanar was just making a jest. "I understand your problem, Tanon, and I understand just how important the Viridor trip is to you - and to Palarand." He considered, then turned to the men at the desks.

"I think we might as well abandon this for today. We'll resume tomorrow morning after breakfast." The men rose, and two of them began tidying their desks. "No! Don't bother doing that, there's no point if you're coming back tomorrow. Go." He turned his attention back to Tanon as the men closed the door behind them. "So, tell me your story."

"Sire, she was lying on the rocks below the roadway as it rises out of Blayvardis Vale. There had been no caravans or other travelers past that spot for some days beforehand that we can discover. When she was found she was wearing these clothes." He turned to Jaxen and beckoned. Jaxen came towards the table, opened the satchel and gently laid the contents out on top of the scattered documents and books that covered it. "As you can see, our apprehensions were immediately raised."

The woman stumbled. Merina would have stopped her falling but Keren reached her first.

"What's the matter with her?" Robanar asked Merina.

"Sire, since we found her she has been having headaches, steadily getting worse. We think it must be related to her loss of memory."

"Of course. Find her a seat, Keren. In fact, all of you find seats. Keren, send someone for some water for our visitor."

Tanon, Merina and the woman were given seats. The servants remained standing. Keren came back with a jug and a goblet, and he poured some water for the woman before seating himself next to her, holding the goblet for her to drink. She thanked him with a weak smile. Tanon picked up the clothing and held them up next to the window for the King to see specific details as he described them. The King looked shocked and then gave an order.

"Keren, run and fetch Morlan. Ask him to bring one of his magnifying glasses, will you? Oh, and find my chamberlain. I can't have you running errands round the palace for me, it isn't seemly."

The woman watched all this through an increasing haze. It seemed to her that the two halves of her brain were slowly being pulled apart, the links between them being stretched painfully taut. She barely heard the comforting words that Merina was saying, her attention being wholly upon trying not to lose consciousness in the warm room.

Keren returned with two men, one dressed in an ornate livery and the other dressed in a simple black floor-length robe over a black tunic and black hose.

"Sire?" This second man spoke. "You have some need of my services?"

"Aye, Morlan, bring your glass over here to the window, look at this cloth, will you?"

Tanon, Robanar and Morlan went into an intense three-way discussion by the window, closely examining all the items of clothing. Morlan was stunned when he was shown the curious fastening on the trousers and took a special interest in the footwear and the bracelet. Finally he spoke quietly to Robanar and Tanon and then approached the women.

"You, girl, these are your possessions?" he asked.

"I think so, sir," she replied, alarmed by his abrasive attitude. "They're not anyone else's, if that's what you mean."

"But you've lost your memory. So how can you possibly say that you know they belong to you?"

"I just do, sir. There's a sort of echo that tells me I know all about them, sir, and that they are mine."

"Do you remember where you come from?"

"No sir, but I know it's nowhere near here, sir. I don't recognize any of the animals and everything looks strange. Even the trees and plants look odd, and the food tastes funny. Not unpleasant, just not anything I recognize. Ow!"

Another spike hit her, and she groped for the goblet which Keren held out.

Robanar called from where he still stood with Tanon. "She's not well, Morlan! Leave her be!"

The woman gulped some water and then climbed to her feet, supported by Merina. She staggered towards the table with the clothing on it, Morlan trailing after.

"Your Majesty," she said to Robanar, "When Tanon found me they took off all my clothes and dressed me differently. I only saw these things once afterwards, in poor light in a tent. May I look at them again?"

"You mean, you've only briefly seen them?" Robanar's eyebrows rose. "Even though -" He paused. "Very well." He gestured at the pile.

She picked up the shirt and felt it again. In the daylight, she could see that what she had taken for dirt on the front was actually a design somehow painted on the soft material. There were symbols in a circle surrounding some kind of geometrical shape. She picked up the trousers and a memory came, stronger than before. She turned them over, feeling the strong fabric, noticing the sturdy construction. There was a leather patch on the back at the waistband, seeming to have no functional purpose. It had a design impressed on it, one which immediately brought memories flooding back, along with a powerful pulse of pain. She dropped the trousers and fell to the floor senseless.

"Now look what you've done, Morlan!" Robanar fumed. "That's no way to treat a young woman! Help her to a seat, won't you all." The instruction was unnecessary as Merina and Silna were already doing that. Silna produced a square of cloth, dipped it in the goblet and gave it to Merina to wipe the woman's brow. Slowly she began to revive.

It was as though something had finally reached ultimate tension inside her head and snapped. Suddenly, everything was still and clear. She knew who she was. At least, she thought she knew who she was, and it terrified her. Her eyes opened, and Keren immediately presented the goblet to her, and she took it and drank.

"It's come back," she said shakily. "I know who I am. I remember my name, although I have no idea where I am or how I came here. My name is Garia -" She stopped, suddenly appalled.

"That's a beautiful name, dear," Merina said, but the woman didn't hear her.

She had just realized that what she had thought she was saying in her brain was not what was coming out of her mouth. She realized that she was not speaking her native language either, and her mind had adapted her thoughts all along to accommodate the difference. Only the leather patch on the trousers had suddenly shown her the truth, stamped with the words "Levi Strauss & Co." She tried again, her voice trembling with mounting horror as she began to understand her predicament, carefully enunciating the words to make sure she spoke what she intended to.

"My name is Gary, and in the world I come from, I am a boy."

The mystery woman has her memory back and struggles to make sense of her surroundings. Is this all real, or is she mad? If so, which is the reality? What of the man in black who insists she might really be a spy?

Somewhere Else Entirely

by Penny Lane

4 - Guest of the King

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 by Penny Lane. All rights reserved.

---

The simple statement that the woman had made caused the whole room to go briefly quiet. King Robanar's face looked as though he had misheard. Tanon hadn't taken it in, Keren looked confused and Morlan showed contempt. Merina immediately comforted the young woman.

"You don't know what you're saying, my dear," she said. "Have some more water while you collect yourself. You've just collapsed on the floor, after all, it wouldn't be surprising if your thought processes are all jumbled up."

The woman stared at her, tears trickling down her face. Hesitantly, she reached for the goblet which a puzzled Keren still held. As she took a sip she desperately struggled to try and work out how she was going to handle this mess.

There was nothing wrong with her thought processes, not any more. On the contrary, her thoughts were now as clear as a bell. Unfortunately her perception of her current position was completely different than the one she had when she had walked into this room. Unfortunately, the body she currently inhabited wasn't the one she had been born with. Unfortunately, no-one was going to believe her.

Merina brought her back to the present. "So, my dear, what are we to call you, since you remember your name now?"

Without time to consider the question in detail, in light of her new circumstances, the woman answered, "Please call me Garia," and then realized what she had said. She was about to add, 'No!' but caution made her stop. Given the body she had been in for three days, 'Garia' might well be more suitable than 'Gary' in this strange place. But she would have to learn to tread very carefully before she answered many other questions, and she was sure that there would be many other questions.

Robanar walked towards the chair she was sitting on and smiled at her.

"Then, Mistress Garia, welcome to Palarand, welcome to my palace," he said.

Garia awkwardly stood and tried clumsily to curtsey. Robanar waved her back into her chair.

"No need to rise, my dear, you are obviously not feeling in the best of health just presently. But there are a number of questions we must ask you."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"First," he asked, "do you recognize these clothes here on the table? Do they belong to someone you were travelling with?"

"S-Sire," Garia said cautiously, "those clothes belong to me. They are mine."

"How is that possible? These are not clothes that a woman would ever have been seen wearing in any of the Valley cities. Do you wear such strange things all the time where you come from?"

Garia considered the irony of that question and gave a careful answer. "Yes, Sire, women where I come from do wear clothes similar to those. Not all the time, though."

"And, I must ask you, since the clothes you were wearing have never been seen before by anyone in Alaesia, where exactly it is that you do come from?"

Garia took a deep breath. This was going to cause fireworks. "Sire, I do not come from Alaesia, or even from another place on your world. I come from somewhere else entirely. Another planet, I guess. I do not know where it is or how far I traveled to get here or by what means."

"Preposterous!" Morlan sneered. "You come from a planet, one of those little moving lights in the night sky? Fantasy!"

"But, this world is a planet also," Garia explained, then realized that perhaps she should have said nothing at all.

"Anmar is a planet? You, girl, think you know better than the best philosophers in Alaesia? Nonsense!" He pointed an accusing finger at her. "And I distinctly recall you saying that you were a boy. Do you deny that?"

Garia shook her head mutely. If she had had time to consider her predicament before questions had been asked, she might have cobbled together some kind of logical story, but as it was she was in a deep mess now.

Morlan turned to Robanar. "Sire, this girl is plainly crazy. We can trust nothing of what she says. I think Master Tanon has made a wasted journey to the palace."

Master Tanon had been thinking, too. "But, with respect, Master Morlan," he said, "even if the woman is not in her right mind, how do you explain the clothing and other items? They must come from somewhere, and, as I have explained, it certainly isn't anywhere within Alaesia."

That brought Morlan up short and his eyes narrowed as he considered the evidence. He grabbed the bracelet from the table and thrust it towards Garia.

"This thing. It seems to have moving parts. What does it do?"

"It's called a watch, sir. It tells the time. The hands move round to indicate the time of day or night. I believe that you call each part of the day a 'bell', well, on my world we call those an hour."

Morlan grunted as he inspected the device.

"What makes it move?"

Garia stopped. How was she going to explain a battery-operated quartz watch to someone who she thought was probably just a medieval tinkerer?

"It involves principles which would take me some time to explain to you, sir. I'm sorry, I can't tell you more than that just now, I still have a headache."

Morlan curled his lip. "Very well, Mistress, I await your pleasure. Describe the front of this device for me, then."

"There are twelve numbered marks around the edge," she said carefully, "and between each mark there are five smaller divisions. The short thick hand -"

"Hand?"

"That's what we call the three little pointer things that are pivoted in the center, sir. The short thick hand goes round twice a day. The long thick hand goes round once an hour, or twenty-four times a day. The very thin hand goes round once a minute, or sixty times an hour."

"Those are strange numbers," Morlan said. "Why not ten times a day, or twenty times a day?"

"Sir, I didn't invent the system, it was designed thousands of years ago. I believe it makes dividing up the time easier."

Morlan grunted again and put the watch back with the other things.

"Sire," he addressed Robanar, "I still maintain that this girl is not in her right mind. Despite that, there is something peculiar going on here, and with your permission I intend to get to the bottom of it. It is entirely possible that what she has been saying is all lies, that she may be a spy or be in league with spies. What Tanon has told me about these items is very disturbing. I wish to retain her in the palace for questioning."

Robanar turned back to Garia. "Mistress, my Royal Questor raises some valid points. I agree that there are questions here which need to have sensible answers. Master Tanon has to leave tomorrow for Viridor on important business, and I think that Mistress Merina will be going with him, is that correct?"

"Sire, that was our original plan," Merina answered.

"In that case, I think our young visitor should become a guest of the palace. Not," he turned to Morlan, "to be housed in the cells. At least, not at the moment, until we have a clearer picture of what is going on here. She shall have a guest room here, and be permitted to walk about the palace."

"Sire! I must protest!" Morland spluttered.

"You exceed yourself, Morlan," Robanar chided him. "She is still visibly unwell and will take some days to fully recover. She is only a young woman, after all. However, mindful of the circumstances, I shall instruct that she be accompanied at all times. Will that satisfy you?"

"Sire." Morlan bowed his head, but his face said that he was not happy. "And will she be permitted to leave the palace, Sire?"

"She should remain inside the palace walls, I think. It would be cruel to keep her inside the building when the weather is so hot. But she must be accompanied at all times." Robanar turned to the liveried servant. "Kendar."

"Sire?"

"Find Mistress Garia a suitable guest chamber, please, and assign her a maid. Find someone with some years experience, not one of the young girls. Merina?"

"Sire?"

"If you would like to accompany Kendar and Mistress Garia to her chamber while I discuss the situation with Morlan and Tanon? I will send for you when Tanon is ready to return home."

"As you wish, Sire."

"Mistress Garia?"

"Sire?"

"Do you understand what I have just said, and why I have given those instructions?"

"Yes, Sire, I understand."

"Then go with these people. I will meet you again at the evening meal and perhaps we can talk some more afterwards." Robanar gave her an encouraging smile. He had been presented with a unique situation, and she thought he had probably made the right choices for the time being.

"Yes, Sire. Thank you, Sire."

Garia stood and curtseyed. Merina took her arm and they followed the Chamberlain out of the room.

"Sire," Morlan said as the door closed, "I thank you for the action you have taken, but I must tell you that I find this latest happening very disturbing. I have a feeling in my gut that that slip of a girl is going to bring trouble to the kingdom, whatever she represents."

He turned to Tanon. "Why did she say that she was a boy, Tanon? She isn't, is she? With a face like that I cannot believe she is a boy in disguise. Oh, I know that the performing players sometimes dress up boys as girls and so on, but she's not like that, surely?"

"Master Morlan," Tanon said, "when we originally found the woman, Merina and her maid Silna stripped her clothing off completely, because we thought that it would cause a disturbance if she were to appear in Palarand dressed in those," he indicated the clothing on the table. "Merina told me then that the woman had a completely clear skin unmarked by any scars, marks or brands. I think she would have noticed if she had been undressing a young man." He considered. "Actually, now I think of it, the men who spotted her down on the rocks thought at first that the body was that of a man."

"So, she's definitely a woman, then, and what you're saying is, probably not a servant, slave or a current or former criminal."

"Aye, Master Morlan. In addition Merina told me later that when they dressed her in borrowed proper attire they noticed that she had probably not known a man."

"Maker! Are you telling me she's a virgin?"

Robanar spoke. "That sounds most unusual, Tanon, even for a woman of her age. So, you think she might be noble born, then?"

"Sire, I don't know what to think. After this afternoon's events I suspect that whatever conclusions we come to are going to be completely wrong."

Keren spoke. "That's why your man here called her 'Princess', then?"

"Aye, Highness. It was simply a way of identifying her until she recovered her memory, which she seems now to have done."

"Humph." Morlan did not seem so convinced. "Are you sure that it wasn't all an act? That she wasn't in command of her senses the whole time?"

"If I may, Your Majesty," Jaxen spoke for the first time.

"Aye, go on," Robanar said.

"When she first set eyes on a dranakh, the morning after we found her, she was genuinely frightened. I do believe that she had never seen one before and knew nothing about the beasts."

"Really?" Robanar's eyebrows raised. "Interesting. Morlan, you may question this woman as you require, but she is only a young woman, and you must make sure you don't cause more injury than she has already suffered."

"Sire, I will be careful."

"Now, Tanon," Robanar changed the subject. "Your trip to Viridor..."

~o~O~o~

Kendar led Garia and Merina towards the rear of the palace and bade them wait outside a room with a number of servants sitting in it. He called one of them out, a woman in her mid-thirties, and introduced her to Garia.

"This young woman is a guest of the King, her name is Garia. The circumstances surrounding her are unusual, she is permitted to walk about the palace and grounds, but she must always be accompanied. She may be asked to go to Master Morlan for questioning from time to time. I am assigning you as her maid while she is living in the palace. Is that clear?"

"Aye, Master Kendar."

To Garia he said, "Mistress, this woman is Jenet, she will be your maid from now on. Since you appear not to know the ways of the palace, you may ask Jenet for guidance. If you will follow me, we will find the Master of the Household who will assign you a chamber."

The procession wound through the corridors and up a stairway, ending in an office with a balding, older man seated behind a desk.

"Terevor, the King has a new guest, Mistress Garia here. If you can provide her with a room? She has arrived here unaccompanied so I have given her Jenet as a maid."

"Certainly, Kendar. What sort of room? What status is our guest?"

"I'm not really sure, Terevor. She stays here as an unaccompanied visitor to Palarand but she is not free to come and go as she pleases. The King wishes her to have the freedom of the palace and grounds, but Master Morlan has concerns about her. We have no idea where she comes from, or what her status is."

"Hmm. Perhaps a room overlooking the herb garden, then? That should be safe enough. If I give her the Lilac Chamber, that should satisfy everyone, don't you think? How long do you think she will need the room?"

Kendar shook his head. "No, idea, Terevor. The Lilac Chamber? Is it ready for her to go to?"

"I would think so, Kendar. Jenet can attend to anything that might need doing."

The women followed Kendar through other corridors until they came to a wide, solid door. Behind it they discovered a large room, richly furnished. One half contained a huge bed, the other had two sofas and some chairs and tables of various shapes and sizes. A ceiling-to-floor curtain could be drawn to divide the room into two for privacy while sleeping. A door at the side of the bed led into a walk-in dressing room, all the shelves and the hanging rail currently empty.

Kendar took his leave and Garia, Merina, Silna and Jenet made themselves at home. There was a large window either side of the dividing curtain and looking out Garia could see that the room overlooked an enclosed garden surrounded by a cloister. The garden was divided up into squares with different plants growing in each, a gravel path between each raised bed. The sun was lowering but still gave ample light into the room.

"My dear, how do you feel now? How is your headache?" Merina asked.

"It's much better now, thank you," Garia replied. "It isn't the same as before, but I guess there's bound to be some after effects from whatever happened. Oh, Merina," she sighed, "whatever am I going to do?"

"Would you like to talk to me about it, dear? I know I can't stay long, but it may help."

"I barely know what's happening myself," Garia said. "I'm not sure I believe it, I know that horrible man in black isn't going to."

"Well, one of Morlan's jobs is to make sure the Kingdom is secure. That means he naturally isn't going to like anything out of the ordinary." Merina eyed Garia speculatively. "Were you serious when you said you came from another world?"

Jenet gasped and looked more closely at Garia.

"Oh, yes, Merina, I was serious," Garia replied. "This definitely isn't my world. My world only has the one moon, you see. And... the body I had there was different to this one. I can't explain what's happened to me at all. I have to face the possible fact that I may be imagining it all, that I might really be mad as that man said."

"What about your clothes though, as Tanon said? They don't exist in your head, they are real."

"The jeans, t-shirt and sneakers?" Merina looked baffled. "The trousers are called jeans. Both men and women wear them where I come from, although naturally they are shaped differently for men's and women's bodies. The tee shirt, I have no idea why that's called that. The shoes are called sneakers, they are meant for casual wear and everybody wears them. They are much more hard-wearing than they appear. Yes, they are real, all right. But, consider, supposing I am mad, and that it is your world which I have made up in my head, not the other way round?"

"I have to believe that I am real, my dear. If I didn't do that, life would not have any meaning, would it? Now about that shirt, the tee shirt as you called it. How do they knit that many stitches, and so fine?"

"Merina, you're barely going to believe this, but the whole thing is made on a machine. It can probably make a whole shirt in the length of time we've been standing in this room."

Merina and Silna both gaped. Jenet looked at them then back to Garia, wondering what she gotten herself into.

"You're right," Merina finally said, "Morlan's going to have trouble believing any of this. Tanon and I have traveled, seen other cultures, know that there are different customs, different techniques, different ways of looking at things. I don't think Morlan is that broad. Well, my dear, I'm sorry our ways have to part for a few days, because you obviously need all the support you can get, and you're being left in a palace full of strangers. It's a pity we have to part like this, but I'll come to the palace the moment we get back from Viridor." Merina turned her attention to the maid, who was trying to appear unobtrusive while she absorbed everything for gossiping later. "Jenet."

"Aye, Mistress?"

"I want you to look after this girl carefully, now. If I hear that you have been less than helpful when I return, I'll make it known to the King, understand?"

"Aye, Mistress, of course!" Jenet knew that Merina was the wife of a powerful merchant with the ear of the King.

"It appears, as you have heard, that she has an unusual story to tell. Well, Morlan is interested in it too, and I'm sure that he doesn't want cook's tales spread around the palace behind his back."

"I understand, Mistress."

"So, I advise you to keep silent about anything you may hear concerning Garia here. I'm sure Morlan will ask you about her, but to anyone else she's just a guest of the King, nothing more."

"As you say, Mistress."

"Is there anything you should be doing, now we're here? Didn't Terevor say something about checking the room?"

"Aye, Mistress. I should be checking the bed-linen."

After a short while a footman appeared and Merina and Silna departed, both wishing Garia well and saying that they would be back as soon as possible. Garia was left in the chamber with Jenet.

"Your baggage, Mistress. I should be unpacking your things and hanging them up."

"I have no baggage, Jenet. In fact, I have nothing at all, not even the clothes I'm standing in."

Jenet's eyebrows went up. "Mistress?"

"This dress, er, gown, is borrowed from... what was his name? Koroon? Kollon? He has a premises opposite the mansion where Tanon and Merina live."

"Korond?" Jenet's eyes widened. "Really? It is an exceptionally fine gown, Mistress, and suits you perfectly. You have nothing else?"

"Even the underclothing I'm wearing is borrowed from members of Tanon's household. No, I have nothing."

"Then we must equip you, Mistress! The Mistress of the Wardrobe should be able to provide what you need to make you presentable before the King. I must go... Oh! I can't, can I? I mustn't leave you by yourself."

"I don't know how you can manage that. Perhaps you can open the door and call for a footman? Perhaps we should go there together?"

"Oh! I've no need to worry, have I? I am forgetting."

Jenet crossed to the side of the fireplace which faced the foot of the bed and pulled an ornately finished rope hanging beside it. Shortly a footman knocked on the door, opened it and peered cautiously round into the room. Jenet spoke to him and he vanished, reappearing a little later accompanied by a silver-haired lady wearing pince-nez with a tape-measure draped round her neck.

"Mistress," she curtseyed to Garia. "May I be of service?"

Jenet answered. "Mistress Yolda, Mistress Garia here is a guest of the King. She will be staying here for some little while. Unfortunately, she has no baggage, nothing to wear, nothing at all. Can she be provided from the palace wardrobe?"

"What about the gown she is wearing? A fine garment that is."

"It was borrowed from Korond," Garia said. "I needed something suitable to be presented to the King. Even my underclothes are borrowed, from Master Tanon's household."

The woman's eyebrows rose. "A strange circumstance, indeed!" She walked round Garia, inspecting her figure from all directions. "I think we should be able to provide all you might need, Mistress. I must measure you, of course, but I think we have garments which should fit you that the two Princesses used to wear before they were married. I must ask your status, Mistress. Are you high-born, a daughter of a noble or are you perhaps a merchant's daughter?"

"Mistress... Yolda, was it? I hardly know how to answer that question. In my country, we don't do things in that way at all. I'm going to have to ask you to use your own judgment. I'm here entirely by myself, in a strange land, no-one's going to know whether you chose right or wrong."

"As you desire, Mistress. In fact, that might make my choices easier. Now, if Jenet can help you off with your gown, I can take measurements. You'll need a whole wardrobe, I take it?"

"Yes, please, although I'm restricted to the palace and grounds, so I shan't be needing gowns for visiting outside anywhere just at the moment."

Mistress Yolda took her measurements, writing them down on the inevitable slate, and then departed saying that everything should be supplied by the time Garia came back from her evening meal.

"Tell me about the evening meal, Jenet," Garia asked as Jenet re-dressed her in the gown.

"What can I say, Mistress. The King and Queen eat in one of the household chambers unless it is a state occasion. All the King's guests normally eat with them if they are presently in the palace. King Robanar isn't one for some of the elaborate feasts his father and grandfather used to hold, I don't think you'll find it too stressful. I'll be there to serve you and to help you through the meal, so don't worry too much about what happens."

"And in the mornings?"

"Some guests prefer to eat in their chambers but you can join the King and Queen for breakfast if you wish to. Again, it isn't a very formal meal most of the time."

"The Queen. That's the first time I've heard one mentioned, although I realize Keren must have had a mother."

"You've met His Highness? He looks just like his mother. She's a nice, gentle woman, her name is Terys. She's the daughter of the Elector of Stirmond, that would be the old Elector, not the one who reigns there now, of course."

"Stirmond?"

"Oh, it's one of the states up-river, Mistress. A fair way up-river, that one."

Some time later a gong rang and Jenet conducted Garia downstairs to the large room where the evening meal was being served. One wall of the room opened out through tall arches onto another cloistered garden and all the large doors were open in the warm evening air, allowing what little breeze there was to circulate through the room. Robanar greeted Garia and presented her to Queen Terys, a small woman who had a very homely feel about her. Garia immediately felt comfortable in her presence. Looking around the small gathering, she failed to see Morlan. A discreet question to Jenet and an enquiry by her of the serving staff revealed that Morlan rarely dined with the King, preferring to eat alone in the suite of apartments he occupied in a different part of the palace. Garia breathed a sigh of relief.

The meal was technically difficult. The main course was a small carcass for each diner of something which Garia decided was this world's equivalent of a bird. The only implements for eating it were a spoon and two different sized knives. Some of the other people seated around the table were using their fingers but Garia noted that none of the women did, so asked Jenet to help her out. The meal of several courses was absolutely delicious, but Garia found it difficult to eat much, her nervousness at what might happen in the morning serving to suppress her appetite.

The only drink provided was beer for the men and wine for the women. Garia remembered that on that faraway world Gary had been patiently waiting for the day he could legally buy alcohol, and here she was able to drink nothing else. She considered and thought about where water might come from, and decided that the river was probably too polluted for most people to drink and get away with it, so wine it was going to be from now on.

At the end of the meal Robanar wanted to talk with his interesting new guest but Garia pleaded tiredness and the remains of the headache. She noticed that Keren had kept a close eye on her as well during the meal but decided not to pursue that avenue until she had had time to think things through. Jenet guided her back through the palace to her room.

"Jenet, I need to use the bathroom."

"Mistress? It's not a good idea to bathe immediately after a meal, especially in such hot weather."

"Um, I didn't want to bathe, I need to -" Garia looked up and down the corridor and, noticing that it was empty, mimed gathering her skirts and squatting.

"Oh, you want to use the toilet! Of course, Mistress, come this way."

It was still a room with a hole in the floor, but it was bright and tiled and had a washbasin in one corner. A basket of wool clippings provided a means of wiping herself afterwards. They returned to the Lilac Chamber and Jenet headed for the dressing room, throwing the door wide so that as much light as possible could enter the windowless closet. Garia was startled by what was within. The rail was almost full and most of the shelves were piled high!

"We can't investigate most of this tonight, Mistress, there won't be enough light," Jenet said. "But it looks like we have enough to clothe you for a while, and what Mistress Yolda has provided are light clothes, by the look of it, that will be more comfortable for you to wear in this hot weather than the formal gown you have on now. Just let me find a nightgown for you, and then we can start getting you ready for bed."

A short-sleeved, floor-length night-gown of some open-weave cotton-like fabric was located on one of the shelves. Jenet helped Garia to undress and put on the nightgown.

"I'm sorry, Mistress, I have instructions to lock you in at night. The key will be hung on a hook outside if anyone has to get in here or if there is a problem during the night. There hasn't been a fire in the palace in living memory, but that doesn't mean there never will be. If you need anything, pull the rope over there and I will come shortly. I'll be sleeping in a servant's room at the end of the corridor. Good night to you, Mistress."

The moment Garia heard the key turn in the lock she threw back the covers and sat up in the huge bed. She plumped the pillow up behind her and sat back against the headboard, drawing her legs up to her breasts and wrapping her arms round her knees. Her gaze was on the empty fireplace as the light slowly began to fade but her mind was elsewhere.

I've just been running on autopilot since my memory came back, and this is the first time I've really had a chance to think about what's happened. Leastways, what I think might have happened to me.

I'm a girl, I'm a girl, I'm a girl. How the heck did that happen? How? Why? Just where, exactly, am I? Where, exactly, might here be? Big question, why am I a girl and not a boy? Why am I not Gary Campbell?

One thing's for certain, I'm not in Kansas anymore.

That almost caused her to break up completely, but she forcibly restricted herself to just tears. She wasn't Dorothy, there didn't appear to be a Yellow Brick Road, and unlike that story, she didn't know if it was possible to get back like Dorothy had. She had been found wearing ordinary sneakers, not ruby slippers. She rubbed her damp eyes with the back of her hands.

Of course, in that story, Dorothy was actually in a coma all the time, wasn't she? Is that what's happening here? Am I in some hospital room somewhere, lying in a coma? Is this all unreal? She had a frightening thought. Suppose what I said to Merina is true? Suppose this is the real world and Kansas is the dream? Am I really crazy?

Take it easy. Some of these questions I'm not ever going to get the answers to, and panicking isn't going to help anyone. Think! Concentrate on the present. You have to assume that the reality you see around you is the one you're going to have to deal with. Especially tomorrow. The rest can wait.

I've got a girl's body, and everyone is going to treat me as such. I seem to have adapted to it remarkably easily, haven't I? Oh, thinking about it, when the caravan started out that first morning (that was a long time ago, wasn't it?) I was stumbling all over the place, I just put that down to the steepness of the road and what might have happened before I was found. Perhaps that was me adjusting to the new body.

I've got a girl's body, and I have no idea how it works. I've never even seen a female body before today, not for real. I bathed with Merina and Silna and didn't feel a thing. Does that mean I'm going to have all kinds of icky girl emotions and things? Probably. I'm just going to have to learn to handle them, I guess.

She felt her knees pressing against her breasts, flattening them against her chest, and it all felt perfectly natural. She noticed that her hands and feet were proportionally smaller, but that didn't seem to matter. For her new height and shape, everything seemed to be just the right size. She had looked at herself in a mirror when they had dressed her at Tanon's house, but that was before her old memory returned and what she recalled of that episode was vague. Perhaps tomorrow she would inspect her body, there was a large mirror beside the window so that a person standing in front of it would catch the light. If she had to be a female in this society, she had better find out who she was.

Jenet would be there, of course. Damn! This society didn't seem to have much notion of privacy, although if she was right about the level of development that would make it late medieval and that sort of figured. She would just have to learn to live within the customs she found here.

I've got a girl's body. Does that mean... boys? Ewwww. We'll definitely have to put that one on the back burner, although it might mean fighting Prince Keren off. A small voice inside her said, why would you want to do that? If he's as friendly as he seems, he might want to look after you, and in the present circumstances you need all the help you can get. Don't do anything that might antagonize him. He is the son of the King, after all.

The light was fading fast now, and she was tired after such a long day's events. She rearranged the pillow and lay down, pulling up the light covers, wriggling to adjust the nightgown. It wasn't like sleeping in t-shirt and shorts, was it? Still, it all seemed comfortable enough. Just as well, she was going to have to get used to it.

~o~O~o~

"Mistress. Time to wake up, Mistress."

Garia surfaced and then gave a low moan, rolling on her side and drawing her legs up. She was not looking forward to whatever today was going to throw at her. She opened her eyes just as Jenet flicked the drapes open, causing her to flinch as the bright morning sunlight fell directly on her face.

"Ow! That's not kind, Jenet."

"Oh, my apologies, Mistress. I forgot this room faces the sunrise."

Jenet considerately pulled a drape back halfway so that Garia's face was no longer in the direct light.

"Thank you, Jenet. Ooh, I don't want to get up."

"Well, you'll have to if you want some breakfast. We have to bathe you first and then find something for you to wear today. Remember, we haven't found out what's in the clothes closet yet."

"Oh, no! I don't know if I can face any of that just yet," Garia moaned. It was much easier being Gary, all he had to do was pull on a random t-shirt from a drawer, then his jeans and sneakers and he was ready to go. She well remembered the stories of the ages that girls were supposed to take getting ready for anything back on Earth. She sighed, pulled back the light covers and sat up.

"Oh, Jenet, I've got an awful kind of hollow feeling in my stomach. I don't think I want to go and see that horrible man today."

"That's just nerves, Mistress. Once you get a bit of food inside you, you'll feel much better."

"Maybe, but there's a lot to do first, isn't there."

"Aye, Mistress, so up you get."

Wrapped in a fluffy wrap-round robe like the one she had worn at Tanon's mansion, she was led to a block of bathing rooms at one end of the corridor. Garia had a shock when Jenet disrobed herself and climbed into the tub with her, but realized that the woman saw nothing unusual in the process and forced herself to relax. The two women washed each other and then dried off with large towels before returning to the Lilac Chamber.

"Now, Mistress, let's find you something to wear. I hear it's going to be another warm day today, so let's see if there's any hot-weather things in here."

Jenet opened the door to the closet and went in while Garia dropped her robe on the bed and stood in front of the mirror. This did not appear to be made of glass but instead a column of squares of polished metal set in a wood frame. The strong sunlight, deflected by the drape but filling the whole room with light, showed her body in sharp detail without overwhelming her eyes.

She hadn't really known what to expect. A typical girl's body, of perhaps fifteen to seventeen years old, like most boys Gary hadn't been able to accurately work out girls ages unless he knew what grade they were in. Flawless slender legs rising to noticeable but not massive hips. A slender waist and a trim chest with two obvious mounds set at just the right height. The shoulders were delicate but neither broad nor narrow, the neck was just the right width to support the head without appearing scrawny. She noticed that the hair seemed to be about the same as she remembered Gary had last had it, full and longish for a boy but almost like an overgrown bob on this figure.

The face was very feminine, round in shape with huge eyes, but she could see a strong resemblance to the boy whose mind now stared out of those eyes. If I had had a sister, she thought, this is what she might have looked like. But that's me, isn't it, I am the sister now. I wonder why the facial resemblance? Some consequence of the transfer process? And my hair is exactly the same as I last remember it. Which was when, exactly?

"Mistress?"

Jenet broke into her speculations by waving an armful of dresses at her.

"Yes?"

"Which of these would you like to wear today, Mistress? Mistress Yolda has provided a goodly selection."

Garia looked at the clothes and quailed.

"Jenet, you have to understand that I know absolutely nothing about how women dress in this place. Nothing. Not only do women not wear clothes like this where I come from, I wasn't even a woman there but a man." She noticed the shock in Jenet's eyes. Well, the sooner Jenet understood the task ahead of her, the sooner Garia could adapt to this strange world. "It's true. In that other world, I was a young man, about the same size and age as Prince Keren, although nowhere near as handsome as he is." She took a deep breath. "I know that here I'm a woman, so you'll have to help me, teach me all that I need to know to make my way in your world. Can you do that?"

Jenet caught her breath. The rumors in the servant's quarters were true, then! "Mistress, I will. The Chamberlain expressly asked me to be your advisor, but I would do it anyway. Oh, you poor thing! This must have been a terrible shock to you, waking up like that."

"Yes, it was, but I didn't realize it at first, I only got my memory back yesterday afternoon. All the customs we have at home, regarding men's ways and women's ways, are different to here, so you'll have to assume I understand very little about how things work."

"I understand, Mistress." Jenet put the clothes she held down on the bed and picked through them. "In that case, I think you should wear this today. It's a very light gown which used to belong to Malann, the younger of Prince Keren's older sisters."

She held up an almost-white gown similar in style to the one Garia had originally 'borrowed' from Silna. It was made of two very thin semi-transparent layers which together provided modesty. The wide neck, short sleeves and hem were trimmed with a fine pale yellow ribbon and the waist was caught by a wide sash of the same color. It was much lighter and looser than the two gowns Garia had previously worn.

Dressing took very few moments. Beneath the gown was a short undershift of silk which served the purpose of both breast support and petticoat. On her feet were placed flat strappy sandals. Jenet brushed her hair, tutting about how short it was until Garia told her that women on her world wore their hair at almost any length from stubble to waist length and still managed to look good. Once ready the two left the room and went downstairs for breakfast.

There were a number of people in the large room where they had eaten the previous night, presumably waiting for breakfast to be served. These included to Garia's horror the man in black she least wanted to meet today. He didn't pay much attention to her, fortunately, appearing to be in conversation with other black-clad diners. However, Queen Terys did notice Garia's entrance and came over to bid her good day.

"My dear Garia! I trust you are feeling better this morning? You certainly look better, except for those dark rings under your eyes. Did you have trouble sleeping? I shouldn't wonder if you did."

"Thank you, Your Majesty," Garia replied. "I think I slept all night, I don't remember waking, if that's what you mean."

"Perhaps you had some strange dreams. I know that if I travel, it takes me a night or two to settle down in a strange bed chamber."

"I don't know, Your Majesty. If I had any dreams last night, I don't remember them."

"You don't have to keep calling me 'Your Majesty'," Terys said in a low voice, "Once we've met then 'Ma'am' is sufficient, especially as you're my guest." Her voice became more normal. "How do you address your King and Queen at home? I'm interested in the customs of other places."

"Er, Ma'am, um, we don't have kings or queens where I come from," Garia said. "We have an elected head of state called a President. I will describe the process to you another time, if I may, it can get rather complicated."

"I'll look forward to that," Terys said. She turned to Jenet.

"Jenet, perhaps we can find some face paints to disguise the rings under poor Garia's eyes. Can you do that after breakfast?"

"No!" Garia said quickly. "No, Ma'am, I'd rather not, I don't think." She stopped and swallowed. "I must apologize for shouting at the Queen."

"That's all right, dear," Terys soothed. "Look, here comes the food now. Will you sit beside me?" Garia raised a questioning eyebrow. "On the other side, of course, I don't think Robanar would be amused. He isn't often amused this early in the day."

As Garia was seated by Jenet she thought over what little she knew about medieval makeup and decided that was one thing she would pass on if she could. Antimony, arsenic, white lead and other toxic substances were best kept at arm's length as long as possible.

Unlike the three previous breakfasts she had eaten since coming to Anmar this one had a wide variety of food, all of it freshly made. Again, Garia thought it all extremely tasty but the knot in her stomach meant that she could eat only a little of each thing that was suggested to her. Fortunately she didn't have to drink wine for breakfast, the herbal hot drink she mentally labelled 'tea' was served to everyone who wished it, although some of the men preferred beer.

All too soon the inevitable happened as Robanar rose to begin the day's kingly duties. Morlan stalked round the tables towards Robanar, Terys and Garia and bowed before the king.

"Sire. I have come to collect Mistress Garia, to begin learning from her how and why she has come to Palarand."

Robanar looked at the two of them, noting both the eagerness in Morlan's eyes and his distrust of the young girl, and at the naked fear in Garia's eyes.

"Mistress," he addressed Garia, "do you feel able to answer Morlan's questions today? If you do not, then I will ask him to delay for a time until you feel stronger."

"Sire," Garia said in a low voice, "I will go with Morlan and attempt to answer whatever he asks me, but I do not think that he is going to like the answers. If I delay, then I fear I will get weaker, not stronger. Better to do it now, get it over with."

"Mistress, I am impressed by your courage. Go with Morlan, then, and I will see you next at lunch, if I may."

Garia curtseyed, the men surrounding Robanar bowed, and King and Queen swept out of the dining room. Morlan looked at Garia with distaste.

"Come along, then, girl. Follow me."

Garia faces her first session with the Royal Questor. She tries to explain her world to Morlan but it seems he finds it difficult to believe anything she says. A furious argument erupts...

Somewhere Else Entirely

by Penny Lane

5 - Nothing but the Truth

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.

---

Garia dutifully followed as Morlan stalked off, black robe flapping. To her surprise, however, her guide did not head for the doors but instead angled across the room and out into the cloister surrounding the enclosed garden. He stepped through one of the numerous arches which made up the covered walkway and strode out on a pathway between the flower beds. With a little hesitation Garia followed.

He went back into the cloister on the opposite side and through a doorway into a large room. This room had windows each side, another courtyard could dimly be seen beyond. The room was filled with tables and benches, the walls were lined with shelves. All were covered with scrolls, books, apparatus. There were unidentifiable objects piled in odd corners, half-built or half-demolished constructions on the benches, glass, bronze, steel, wood, leather. This was obviously Morlan's laboratory. It looked like it hadn't been tidied for years. Morlan didn't stop in the room, however, but led Garia towards a door at the end. As he reached it he turned and frowned.

"You!"

Garia turned as she realized he had not been addressing her but someone behind, and discovered that Jenet had followed them.

"Master?"

"Have you other duties to perform? I shall not be requiring..." Morland paused, considering. "I have changed my mind," he eventually said, with a look that implied that he resented having to do so. "It would be unseemly for me to interview a young woman in my chambers without a chaperone, so you may accompany your mistress. But," his face twisted, "if I discover that anything of what we may discuss in my study is broadcast to the palace staff I'll have you flayed, do you understand?"

Jenet looked suitably penitent and curtseyed. "I understand, Master."

"Then enter, both of you." Morlan opened the door and gestured with his arm. He followed them in, closing the door, and then went to sit behind a huge desk with his back towards the window. Garia noticed that her Earth belongings were all spread on the desk, on top of the jumble of documents already there.

"Sit, Mistress," he instructed, pointing to a chair facing the desk. Jenet was a servant, so he ignored her completely.

"Now, Mistress," he continued, "you have had all night to put together a story to entertain me." He favored Garia with a sour look. "Once you've got that out of the way, you will tell me what really brings you here. I will have the truth of this matter."

"Master Morlan," Garia began, "I have no story to tell you but the truth, what I know of it. Whether you choose to believe it is your affair, but I will promise to tell you the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth." She almost automatically added so help me God, but until she discovered what religions there were in this world it was best to keep one's options open.

Morlan gave her another sour look. "As if that pretty little speech means anything. What does a slip of a thing like you know about the truth? Very well, let us begin. These clothes and other things, you maintain that they belong to you, is that so?"

"Yes, Master Morlan."

"They belong to you, and not a male traveling companion."

"Yes, Master Morlan, they belong to me personally. I recognize them, they are mine, I have worn them before."

"This is that silly claim you made yesterday that you were a boy."

"Yes, Master Morlan. Although in this world I am undeniably a woman, before I came here, in the world in which I lived and grew up, I was a man of just over seventeen years of age."

Morlan gave a disparaging grunt before continuing. "This is the next claim, that you come from another world."

"Yes, Master Morlan, I do claim that. It is very easy to tell that this is not the world of my birth. The animals are different, the food is different, the people and languages are nothing like I remember from my own world, and the decisive fact is that there are too many moons here. On my world there is only one moon, about the size of the biggest one you have here."

"Too many moons, indeed! What a crazy idea! What do you call this moon of yours, then, if you only have one of them?"

Garia looked puzzled. "Why, the Moon, of course. There is no need to call it anything else, although it has other names in other languages. We sometimes call it Luna, I suppose."

"Other languages," Morlan mused. "Which brings me to another point. If you're from some other world, as you claim, how is it you speak our language so well? Does that not point to your origin being a lot closer than some made-up 'other world'?"

"Master Morlan, I have no idea how or why I can speak your language. I cannot explain it, just as I cannot explain how I came from my world to this one."

"Or explain how you were an seventeen-year-old boy in one world, and a fifteen-year-old girl in this one." Garia opened her mouth to protest but closed it again. Did she really look that young? Morlan carried on speaking. "This fantasy of yours would be entertaining if it occurred at another time. I would rather I heard the truth from you today, however." He drilled her with a stare. "How did you come to be on that road, for Tanon to find?"

"Master Morlan, I have absolutely no idea."

"What do you mean by that? For him to find you, you had to travel there or be taken there by someone. What was his name?"

"Master Morlan, when I was found I had no memory of anything. I did not regain my memory until I was in that room with you yesterday afternoon. When I was found, I had no idea who or what I was, or indeed where I was. I naturally assumed that what I was told was true, that what happened round me was normal."

Morlan tried another line of questioning. "Tanon's man Jaxen said that you had never seen a dranakh before, that it frightened you. How can this be? Everyone in Alaesia knows all about dranakhs, they are everywhere."

Garia thought. "Then, by your own logic, this must mean I don't come from Alaesia."

"That is possible," Morlan grudgingly admitted. "However, I don't see how you could have come from another part of the world to where you were found and not seen a dranakh before that point."

"Master Morlan, I don't even know what Alaesia is or how big it might be. Until I came to this world I had never heard the name. Is Alaesia a country, an island, a continent or what?"

Morlan's eyes glinted dangerously. "What might a 'continent' be? I have never heard the word before."

Garia finally realized that whenever she spoke out loud, whatever she had composed in her head in English had been silently translated into whatever the local language was. Sometimes, the local word was different to what she thought she said, as with her original attempt to say her name. Sometimes, entire phrases were substituted without her consciously being aware of the fact. Sometimes, as now, there was no correspondence at all and the English word was used.

"In my world," she explained cautiously, "a continent is what we call the very largest land masses in the world. Some of them are joined to one another by narrow strips of land, but are otherwise just very large islands. There are also many smaller islands of different sizes as well, of course."

"Of course," Morlan repeated. "In that case, I suppose you could call Alaesia a continent. There is no real need for the word since only Alaesia exists, other than the many island groups that surround it, of course."

"There is only one continent in the entire world?" Garia said, amazed. "How big is it? Can I see a map of your world, please?"

Morlan's face lit up, and the dismay was plain on Garia's face as she recognized the blunder that she had just made. In a world without mass production maps were precious things giving power to those who owned them. He pounced.

"So, you expose yourself, girl! Only an incompetent spy would ask to see a map, now, wouldn't she, spy?"

Garia gulped, and her stomach felt as though someone had thumped it hard. She thought rapidly about what a map might represent here and found a response.

"I don't know, a map might be useful to a trader, perhaps? Someone like Tanon? A map might be useful to a farmer, a town council, even a builder of bridges."

"That might be so," he sneered, "but I can't see a farmer or a bridge builder being interested in a map that shows the whole of Alaesia, can you? Besides which," he added off-hand, "I doubt a little thing like you can even read or write, can you?"

"I can read and write," Garia flung back, "of course I can!"

"I don't believe you," Morlan snapped. He jumped to his feet and scrabbled among the documents scattered over his desk, pulling one out. "Here, read me from that if you're so clever!"

Garia took the proffered parchment but didn't even look down at what she held.

"I can't read this, of course I can't! I've been in this world less than four days, how could I have possibly learned to read your script! But I can certainly read and write my own language, the one I used at home."

She tossed the parchment back on the desk. She glanced around at something she had noticed on her way into the study but not appreciated the possibilities it provided, a blackboard. Jumping up in her turn, she strode the width of the room to it and grabbed a lump of chalk from the holder under it. Huh, real chalk, not manufactured sticks.

"What are you going to -" Morlan shouted.

"This is my name," Garia said, writing 'GARY CAMPBELL' on a clear space at the bottom of the board. Underneath she added her signature as Gary's usual scrawl to prove that it wasn't just capital letters she was capable of.

Morlan had rounded the desk after her but stopped at the undeniable evidence that the 'slip of a girl' actually could write, albeit in a script that looked alien to him. The fluid way in which she had written made him realize that it was quite possible she was telling the truth and a cold shiver went down his spine. Just what was this girl? What did her presence mean for Palarand? The need for answers to these and other questions suddenly became more urgent. He returned to his desk and sat down, motioning Garia to return to her chair. White-faced and shaking from the adrenaline rush she sank back down.

"So," Morlan resumed, "you can read and write. That just makes you more dangerous, doesn't it? You can write your reports for your masters instead of having to recite them back. That script looks totally unfamiliar, perhaps your story about not coming from Alaesia is true." His expression hardened. "That doesn't mean that any silly story about you being a boy is true, or that you come from another world." He leaned back, his face now thoughtful. "Perhaps your tale of memory loss is true also, perhaps it has muddled your past memories and you really come from another - what was it? - continent that lies beyond the explored seas. Tell me about the place where you come from."

Garia shook her head. "I will tell you, but I don't think you're going to believe most of it, it's just too different for you to understand properly."

"Let me judge that for myself, girl. I am the Royal Questor of Palarand, head of the Society of Questors. We know more about thinking than you could ever possibly understand yourself. Do not attempt to judge others by your own limited experiences."

"Master Morlan, I'll try to keep that in mind." Of course, that's only what you're attempting to do with me, isn't it? Judge me by your own experiences? How on Earth can I get through to such a closed mind? She took a deep breath.

"I live, or lived, near a small town called Hays which is in the State of Kansas," she began. "Kansas is one of fifty States making up my country, which is called The United States of America."

"One moment," Morlan interrupted. "A small town? How small, exactly?"

"Oh, about twenty thousand people," Garia replied innocently. If he persists with this line of questioning, I can bury him in numbers until his head explodes.

"Twenty thousand? And you consider that small?"

"It's quite small, but not unusual. The State capital, Topeka, has about a hundred twenty-five thousand or so, I guess. The whole State is probably around three million these days."

"Three million?" Morlan choked out. Maker, Palarand might have four hundred thousand all told. "Girl, are you making fun of me?"

"I told you at the beginning, sir, that I would tell you the truth and you wouldn't like it. I am doing just that."

"Maker, this tale gets crazier and crazier. Wait, you said that your state is one of fifty that make up a country, how does that work?"

"It's complicated, Master Morlan. Kansas is self-governing, but belongs to a um, union or federation, I suppose you could call it. Some laws are state laws and some laws are federal laws. People can move freely between states."

"Federation? Of different states?"

"Yes. Um, I don't know how anything about the different states that I assume exist in the Great Valley where we are, nobody has seen fit to tell me anything like that yet. Do any of those co-operate with each other?"

She's at it again. Well, I suppose I shouldn't blame her, I started it this time.

"Occasionally," Morlan grudgingly replied. "From time to time."

"If you can imagine all of those states co-operating, using the same money, talking the same language, having a combined army, that will give you an idea of what the United States is."

"Each one of those has three million people?"

"No, not at all. Some states have a lot more, some a lot less. Some are mountainous, some are plains, some are coastal, some are desert. I don't know about the total figure, that sort of thing didn't interest me that much. I guess around two hundred sixty million, maybe more, maybe less."

"This story has to be nonsense, Mistress!" Morlan waved his arms in agitation. "Imagine, two hundred sixty million people! The amount of farmland required to feed that many people would be many times the size of Alaesia. Think of the difficulty of transporting that much food to cities as big as you describe. Impossible! You're just pulling figures out of the sky to make yourself sound important and dangerous. Admit it!"

"I admit nothing, Master Morlan. You asked me for numbers, I gave them to you. As for farming and food transport, we have much more efficient ways of growing food, and transporting the required food is no problem at all. In fact, we grow so much food that we have to give a lot of it away to other countries."

"Now you are making fun of me!" Morlan growled, his face becoming red. "Aside from the stupidity of just giving food away, how is it that you know so much about the subject? I shouldn't think a girl of fifteen years can possibly know such things."

Garia gritted her teeth. "I'm not a girl of fifteen years, I am seventeen years old! I told you that before!"

"You also told me you were a boy before!" Morlan raised his voice as he became more angry with the person in front of him. "You're a girl, you can't possibly pretend that you used to have a boy's body, and you're definitely not seventeen years old!"

Garia lashed out without thinking. "How would you know exactly how old I am?" she asked hotly. "Have you had so much experience of young girls to be able to judge their ages that accurately?"

Morlan looked as if he was about to explode, his face bright red. He stood and pointed a shaking finger at Garia, his face suffused with rage.

"Get... out... of... my... sight," he managed to say, "before I call the Palace Guard and have you thrown into the cells for insolence!"

White-faced, Garia stood and tried to back away. Her hand touched something, it was Jenet who had approached fearfully as Morlan lost his temper. Jenet grabbed Garia's arm and practically dragged her to the study door. Not bothering with permission to leave, she opened the door and pulled Garia out into the laboratory.

"This way, Mistress!" She led the way, her hand still on Garia's arm. "We have to find somewhere for you to calm down." She looked through the window. "No, not that side, there's too many people, let's try the other side."

Jenet angled across the room and found a door that opened onto the courtyard which bordered the other side of that part of the building. She looked each way and found a seat against the wall, shaded from the sun by the inevitable cloister which ran round the courtyard.

"Sit here, Mistress, sit."

Garia collapsed onto the seat, her whole body shaking from the ferocity of the exchange that had just happened. Jenet sat down beside her and Garia buried her head on the older woman's breast, tears flowing freely now that she was away from Morlan. After an initial jolt of surprise Jenet's maternal instincts took over and she gathered Garia into her arms.

"There, there, Mistress. He's out of sight, now, take time to calm yourself down. I know you didn't mean to say what you did, not in the way he took it."

What's the matter with me? Why did that man manage to turn me into a puddle of jelly? I didn't say anything bad, did I? Oh. Perhaps it's the girl thing. Damn! This is going to make life so much more fun, isn't it? What exactly did I say anyway?

Prince Keren walked through a door into the corner of the cloister opposite the seat where Garia and Jenet were sitting. He was dressed only in soft, snug leather breeches and soft ankle boots. He had been exercising and he was drying his hair, face and upper body with a towel as he entered the courtyard. As he wiped the sweat from his face he caught sight of the seat and recognized not the two people but the dress which had once belonged to his sister Malann. His brow furrowed and as his step changed he identified both women and immediately altered direction. Hanging the towel round his neck he jogged across the courtyard.

"Mistress Garia? Whatever is the matter?"

She raised a tear-stained face to him which instantly caused unexpected feelings to surge through his body.

"Who did this?" he asked in a harder voice.

"I did, sort of," she replied shakily. "I'm afraid that I might have said something I shouldn't. I..." She trailed off, still shocked.

"Highness, it must have been accidental," Jenet explained, "but Mistress Garia essentially accused Master Morlan of molesting young women."

"You were there?" Keren asked. Jenet nodded. "Did he..?"

Jenet shook her head. "No, Highness. They were arguing. As Mistress Garia foretold, Master Morlan didn't believe much of what she told him, and he as much as called her a liar."

Keren rolled his eyes in disgust, then sat on the seat next to Garia. She turned her head to him, tears still streaming down her cheeks. His arms automatically started to reach out to her but he thought better of it and made himself fold them together across his bare chest. Who knows, perhaps she might accuse him of molesting her!

"Jenet, have you a cloth, to wipe Mistress Garia's face?"

"Of course, Highness."

Jenet dipped into a pouch tied at her waist and produced a square of soft cloth which she handed to Garia. Garia dabbed the cloth on her cheeks and then attempted to clean herself up.

"Here, Mistress, let me."

Garia allowed Jenet to wipe her properly while Keren considered the situation as he understood it. Morlan certainly should have the brains to determine the truth of this matter, but on the other hand the man had never been known for his social skills, even among those of his own generation. Putting a vulnerable young woman in alone with him was certainly going to cause trouble. Particularly if the fragments of story she had told the previous day were even remotely true! Keren shook his head. All parties had been well-intentioned, but the approach taken was the wrong one. Well, he'd see if he could do anything about that.

"Mistress Garia?"

"Your... Highness?"

"I'm afraid Master Morlan, while having a huge intellect, isn't used to normal people like you or me," he said with a smile. The point was understood by Garia who managed to twitch a small smile of her own. "He spends his time buried in his books and documents, trying to find the meaning of the universe or something else just as useful. While he is the Royal Questor, I think that interviewing you like that was not a very clever move by any of us, don't you agree?"

"I suppose not," she said in a small tearful voice. "But, I'm new around here, how am I going to know what's right and what's wrong?"

Keren shrugged. "You shouldn't have to. But we shouldn't have subjected you to that, and I apologize for the distress that has been caused to you."

She twisted round straight on the seat so that she could talk to him more easily.

"It's nothing to do with you, Your Highness. Oh." She put both her hands to her mouth in horror. "Oh, no! Now I think I've just insulted the King."

Keren grinned and Garia struggled to remain calm as his face lit up. "Oh, I think the King will survive. I would suggest that Jenet take you back to your room and keep you there until lunch time, that way you won't get into any more trouble. By the way, Jenet, which chamber has she been given?"

"The Lilac Chamber, Highness."

"Good. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to change." He looked down at his bare torso and sweat-stained breeches. "After which, I will go and find my father and see if something can be arranged. I'll talk to you again at lunch, Mistress."

Keren stood, gave a short bow towards Garia before she could rise, and walked off towards the other corner of the cloister. Her mind wanted to consider him as just another guy but her nose and eyes were insistently telling her different. She had wanted to rest her hand on his leg when he had been sitting down, and only the fact that she would have been touching the heir to the throne had stopped her.

God, what am I even thinking of? He's a boy! And part of her replied, And? You're a girl, at least for the duration. You're going to have to think those thoughts sometime.

But, he's the Prince, dammit! One day he's going to be King! I've been a girl less than four days, and I'm on a strange planet, stuck in the dark ages! Suddenly the whole crazy situation reared up in her face and she burst into tears again, falling into Jenet's lap.

~o~O~o~

Having rinsed himself off and changed into more appropriate clothing, Keren made his way through the palace complex in search of his father. The prince suspected that he was still in the Counting Room with his accounting clerks so headed that direction. As he approached he saw that the door was open and raised voices could be heard from within.

That's unfortunate. Morlan got there first. I suppose at least he gets the backlash for interrupting my father.

"Father, may I come in?"

Morlan turned to see who had come in and scowled, not caring that Keren could see his expression.

"You might as well, Keren," Robanar replied, sighing. "I can see that I'm going to get nothing else done before lunch." He turned to his clerks and said to them, "We'll resume again after lunch." They all rose with a single motion, bowed, and then filed out of the room.

"Sire, I tell you again, the girl is plainly mad," Morlan resumed after the room had been cleared. "I doubt that I can get anything sensible out of her, she just comes out with nonsense. I grant you, the clothes that Tanon claimed she was wearing present a problem, but the girl herself is nothing. I think she should be transferred to a holding cell and a physician asked to examine her."

"Well, perhaps," Robanar said to stop the flow of Morlan's complaints. "Keren, you wanted something?"

"I've just come from the Small Courtyard where Mistress Garia was crying her eyes out," Keren said. "She is a very frightened young woman, Father."

Morlan turned on Keren, his nostrils flaring. "I'm not surprised, Highness. Did you hear what she called me?"

"Morlan," Robanar inquired quietly, "did you lose your temper again? I'm not surprised the poor girl is in tears if you were your normal difficult self."

"Sire, it is difficult to remain calm when the person you are supposed to be questioning persists in telling you things that are clearly fantasy. She can't even get her own age right!"

Keren responded, "Father, I think that asking Morlan to interview Mistress Garia in this manner was not the best idea. She has, by her own admission, been here for less than four days. Morlan, in your opinion, in four days, do you think you could learn full command of a new language? You might by some means or other gain knowledge of all the words, but would you know common expressions, things that people say in the street?"

Morlan grunted acceptance of the point but persisted, "Highness, that may be true, but we only have her word that she's been here for four days."

"That's not the case," Robanar rebutted. "Tanon himself told us how she was found, and that she had very little memory of anything until she came to the palace. Morlan, I think you're being a little selective about what you want to be true and what you don't. I shall think upon this over lunch. The problem of Mistress Garia needs to be solved, but Keren's right, I think we need a slightly different approach."

~o~O~o~

At the lunch bell Garia appeared in the dining room, pale and drawn. She hadn't wanted to come but Jenet had insisted. Morlan was not present which made the prospect of the meal a little more bearable. She was seated, much to her discomfort, between Robanar and Keren.

"Are you feeling a little better, Mistress?" Robanar asked.

"Yes thank you, Sire. I find it not as easy to shrug off an argument as I might once have done. Perhaps I'm still feeling... the effects of arriving here, before Tanon's men found me."

"Master Morlan has complained that you insulted him."

"I did not mean to, Sire," Garia said in a small voice. "He started making assumptions about my age which are plainly wrong, and I asked him how he thought he could accurately work out how old I was, if he had had much previous experience of such matters."

"Ah! I see! The old fool, I thought it was something like that. Well, Keren has suggested that we try a different approach this afternoon. You do understand that we must still ask you questions, and that we will keep asking until we are satisfied that we know what we are dealing with?"

Garia gulped. "In that case, Sire, I suspect that you will never stop asking questions, since I myself truly do not understand what has happened to me, and I doubt that you will believe much of what I can tell you."

"Why is that, Mistress?" Keren asked.

Garia paused to collect her thoughts. "After you left me and I went back to my... chamber, I began to think about my situation here, in relation to where I was before. I have come to some conclusions, but," her eyes flicked around the other diners, all trying to listen to what was being said, "I'd rather not discuss them in front of anybody else, not just yet."

"Ah," Keren said. "Yes, that might be wise."

She gave Keren a weak smile. "Highness, could you come with me after lunch to Morlan's study? I believe your presence may help to keep the conversation... peaceful, and I would welcome your views on what I have to say."

As well as providing another witness, one Morlan's not going to easily get round.

As well as providing me with a friendly face and a source of comfort this afternoon.

Did I really just think that?

"Mistress," Keren replied, "my father and I briefly discussed your situation before lunch and we came to more or less the same conclusion. I would be delighted to accompany you. Now, I am hungry, I suggest we eat. Might I suggest you try some of these? They are early fruit from this year's crop..."

Garia struggles to make Morlan understand her world but it seems the gulf may be too great. She discusses her predicament with the King and later discovers some interesting side effects of her new body...

Somewhere Else Entirely

by Penny Lane

6 - A World of Machines

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.

---

Morlan scowled when Keren followed Garia through his study door but made no other comment. She stood in front of the desk and took a deep breath.

"Master Morlan, I apologize if anything that I said this morning caused you offense. I am unfamiliar with your language, I may have accidentally said something in such a way that it had a different meaning to what I intended."

"Very well, Mistress," Morlan replied. The polite apology surprised him, and he began to revise his opinion of the young woman standing in front of him. He stood and gave her a short bow. "We will say no more about the matter. If you would seat yourself." His eyes went questioning to the Prince, standing behind Garia.

"Since Mistress Garia is not entirely familiar with our language," Keren said, "I have come to provide any assistance she may require. I trust that this meets with your approval, Master Morlan?"

Since Morlan could hardly refuse the presence of the Prince, he graciously assented and Keren brought another chair to put beside Garia. As before, Jenet remained unnoticed in the background, but even she felt more comfortable with the Prince in the room. Once Keren had seated himself Garia began to speak.

"Over lunch I have given consideration to my position in this time and place," she said, raising Morlan's eyebrows with her choice of phrase. "I believe that I can resolve some of the difficulties which you perceive, Master Morlan, but that may make the answers you seek harder for you to understand, not easier."

Morlan waved a hand to indicate that she should proceed, but there was skepticism plain to see on his face.

"Firstly," Garia said, "there is the question of my age. I have realized that it is possible that we may both have been correct. Can I ask you, how many days there are in a year?"

"Why, three hundred ninety one of course," Morlan said. "Any child knows that."

Garia shook her head. "Not on my world, there aren't." She stood and gestured at the blackboard. "If I may?"

Morlan nodded. This nonsense again! But he was interested to see what she would do.

Garia strode to the board and found a cloth to wipe out her name before using the chalk to calculate the age she would be here. This was tricky, as she didn't know exactly when she had departed from Earth, but she decided to use her seventeenth birthday which was recent enough for the present purpose. She rapidly multiplied and divided, Morlan watching her with astonishment.

"That looks like... fifteen years and eight-tenths of a year," she said finally. She made another calculation. "...and that eight-tenths of a year is about three hundred forty-four days."

Morlan and Keren had got up and now stood either side of her.

"Fascinating," Morlan said. "I don't think I could have made the calculation that quickly. These are what your numbers look like?"

"Yes, Master Morlan."

"And how long is your year, in this calculation?"

"Three hundred sixty-five days plus a little under a quarter."

"I see." Morlan turned to Garia. "It seems I also owe you an apology, then, assuming this information is real, of course." He gestured. "Shall we sit down again?"

"That was my next point," Garia said after they had regained their seats. "Whether my information is real or not. Master Morlan, you have to consider this from my point of view, if you can attempt to do that. There are a number of possibilities as I see it. Firstly, I might be mad, as you have been suggesting, and that any previous existence I might be remembering never really happened, that I might have always been part of this world."

Morlan nodded, interested to see where she was going with this, if she would trip herself up.

"Secondly, I might really be mad, as you have been suggesting, but that this world might be all in my imagination, and I might still be in the other world, in something like a dream state." Morlan's eyes narrowed as he considered this possibility. Garia took a breath. "Thirdly, that all of what I have experienced before and since is real, and that I have somehow been genuinely transported from one world to another. I'll leave that for a moment.

"Fourthly, it is possible that I might have died." Morlan looked taken aback at that. "In a number of the religions on the other world, it is held that after a person dies a part of their... spirit, I guess you could call it, we call that the soul, exists after the body stops. In some of those religions the souls goes to a happy place," she wasn't going to get into heaven and hell here, "and some others believe that the soul gets reborn into a new body. It's that last idea that might have happened here, and would explain why I'm now a girl where I was once a boy, although I would have expected in that case to have started out again as a baby."

Morlan had to revise his opinion of Garia yet again. Here she was, discussing philosophical questions the Society of Questors had been arguing about for decades! Did this make her story true, or did it just make her more dangerous?

"Now," Garia continued, "I have to consider my position here. Whichever of the possibilities above is true, and I freely admit there might be yet other explanations I have not considered, I believe that I have to act as though both the other world is real and that this world is real. Would you agree with that, Master Morlan?"

Morlan cleared his throat. "Mistress, your argument is concise and well thought out, and, if I may say so, not one I would have expected from someone of your youth," his mouth twitched into something that one day might have been a smile, "whatever calendar system one uses. Aye, I understand your position, although it still leaves far too many unanswered questions."

"Thank you, Master Morlan. There is another factor which I have to explain to you, and it is this that might cause you the most difficulty." Morlan frowned. "Most of what I have seen around me is slightly familiar -" there, she's admitted it! "- but only in the sense that I've read about it in history books. Bows, swords, wooden houses, dirt roads, animal-drawn vehicles." History books? What is she saying? "These are things that were familiar in my own world, but around three to four hundred years ago. You might consider me as coming from three to four hundred years in the future."

"What? You come from our future? How can that be? The future hasn't happened yet, can't happen!"

"Well, no," Garia qualified. "Not the future of this world, exactly. It's just that my world has had around three to four hundred years more of development than yours has. And before you say anything else, I should tell you that the developments in my world have accelerated during the last couple hundred years. It's not surprising that you find the things I've been telling you difficult to accept. I apologize that I didn't understand the situation much earlier, much awkwardness could have been avoided."

Development. Morlan tasted the word, not sure whether he approved of it or not. He realized that Garia's things were still spread out in front of him. If these were a result of three hundred years of development, what else might she know that she could tell him? Suddenly, assuming she spoke anything like the truth, the young woman began to look like an extremely valuable source of knowledge.

"Mistress Garia," Morlan began with what he hoped was a smile, "if what you are saying is the truth, then there is much that we might learn from your world, would you not agree?"

Garia had got there before him. "Yes and no, Master Morlan. You must understand that my world had to do it all the hard way, and that many mistakes were made, many lives lost and many others broken before the time I live in. Parts of the history of my world are extremely grim. On my world there are stories, fanciful tales of people who travel through time, and in these stories there are rules about passing knowledge down to earlier years. There is much I can freely tell you, there is much I could tell you with caution, and there may be much that I decide I cannot tell you.

"In addition, you also have to remember that I am still young, as considered by both our worlds. So I don't know very much about anything, and what I do remember is whatever is left inside my head. I am still at school, although I will soon be leaving." Assuming I ever get back, of course. And assuming I become Gary again, of course.

"What? You went to school? Yes, I suppose you must have, if you can read and write and make calculations like that." He pointed to the blackboard. "Are you then the... child of a noble, to attend school?"

"Um, Master Morlan," Garia said cautiously, "on my world, in my country, there are no nobles at all." Although there are some who would like to consider themselves nobility. "Every child in the country must go to school between the years of five and eighteen."

"All of them?" Morlan asked skeptically. "This seems to me to be a great waste of everyone's time."

Garia shrugged. "For a very small number, it is. But for the rest of us, that much schooling is necessary for us to learn enough to fit into our world. Our lives are very complicated by your own standards."

Morlan regarded her statements with incredulity. Lives in Palarand were sufficiently complicated yet a mere child could understand enough to be productive by the time they reached double-digit years. How was it possible that any person, let alone a woman, could require six more years than that of education? Granted, for someone like himself it could be said that learning never ended, but of course he and his fellow Questors were somewhat different than the rest of Palarand's subjects.

"You say that your father is not a noble. In that case, what does he do?"

"He's a bookseller, Master Morlan," Garia replied. "That is, he owns a bookshop."

"He owns a shop? That sells books, you say?" Garia nodded. Morlan thought that if her father sold books, then that might explain why she could read and write. Still, books took a long time to copy. How could one make a living at such a trade?

"Your father, he sells enough books to make a living, I assume?"

"Yes, he does, although my mother also works. The bookshop sells between thirty and eighty books a week depending on what's popular at the moment."

"Thirty to eighty books a week?" Morlan raised an eyebrow. "How many scribes does he employ, to copy all those books?"

"Oh, he doesn't employ any scribes," Garia said. "They aren't used in our world any more. All the books are produced elsewhere by, um, machines, he just sells them."

Morlan grunted at the blatant evasion and then latched on to another thing Garia had said. "You said that your world has no nobles."

"Not entirely correct, Master Morlan," Garia answered. "My own country doesn't have any formal nobility. Other countries do have people who are called nobles, but I would guess that they don't have any powers like the nobility here probably do."

"But, your king, how does he rule without nobles?"

"We have no king, Master Morlan. We elect a President who is nominally head of state. He is supported by a Senate -" this word came out in English "- and a House of Representatives, all of whom are chosen by the people at regular intervals."

"The people elect your rulers? All the people? All the rulers?"

Garia gave a wry smile. "Yes, Master Morlan. It sort of works most of the time. Anyone over the age of eighteen who is a citizen of the US can vote, but politics is something I tried to avoid most of my life so far."

Morlan shook his head. "Madness, madness."

"Oh," she grinned, "and by anyone I mean that both men and women can vote and be elected to all government posts. We make no distinction between men and women for most things."

Morlan's eyes bulged. "You mean that you could have a woman ruler? That seems insane."

Garia's face grew serious. "Master Morlan, I trust you intend no offense to anyone in this room."

The room suddenly got very quiet. "Mistress Garia, I intended no disrespect, and I desire that you would take none." Morlan licked his lips and gave a sidelong glance at Keren, whose own face remained impassive. "Here in Palarand," he explained, "and in most nearby countries it would not be considered proper for a woman to rule on her own. There are a small number of states that I know of which elect rulers, but I do not recall that any of them allow women - or even ordinary men - to be permitted to vote. I mean, really, women -"

"Master Morlan," Keren interrupted. "I think you would do better to find another topic of interest, before we start another argument."

Morlan looked at the expression on Keren's face and at the glint in Garia's eyes. "Aye, Highness," he said quietly. Casting about for something else to talk about his eyes found Garia's clothing.

"Tell me then about these, Mistress. Master Tanon says that they are of amazing craft and quality, but that you told him and Mistress Merina that these are but ordinary clothes in your country. This, for example." Morlan held up the t-shirt.

"As I explained to Merina," Garia replied, "these garments are all produced by a machine. It takes a very short time to make one. Oh, it requires a man or woman to set the thing going, and to assemble the different parts, but machines do most of the work."

"And the trousers?"

"I don't know the exact details. There are looms which produce thousands of... strides of cloth every day. I think the pieces are cut out by hand, and it needs a person to sew them together, but the sewing is done by a machine, even so. It must only take -" she closed her eyes, calculating. Damn this man! I need to know how their time system works. "- perhaps a twentieth of a bell to make one. I'm guessing that as I don't really know how your timekeeping works here."

"And this curious device here?"

"That's called a zipper, or sometimes just a zip. We use them for clothing, but they can be used for other things as well. Bags, tents, for example."

"How are they made? You must have many metalsmiths working to make these tiny parts?"

"Master Morlan," Garia said, conscious of the gulf that separated them, "these are made by a series of machines in different sizes, different lengths, different colors. Automatically. By the millions."

"This device here, which you say tells you the time, that is also a machine?"

"I suppose it is, yes, although I had never thought of it that way." Garia shrugged. "It's just a watch. Everyone has at least one."

Keren's eyes were wide as he considered the implications of what this young woman was saying, although neither noticed, they were too intent on one another. Morlan picked up the wallet and shook out some coins.

"These are money where you come from?"

"Yes, Master Morlan."

"What about these?" He pulled out one of the bills.

"They are money too. They are for amounts of money where carrying coins would be too heavy or bulky."

"What are they made of? Does the scribe have to draw all that detail on each one?"

"They are made of a substance called paper." That word came out in English, which told Garia that no-one, at least within traveling distance of Palarand, had yet learned how to make it. "It is usually made of plant or wood fibers, although these particular notes contain a lot of cloth fibers to make them longer lasting."

"Wood fibers? I don't understand."

"Um." Garia thought. "You have mills here, which grind up grain to make flour, which gets baked into bread and other things?" Morlan nodded. "Imagine a big mill which can crush wood down to almost the level of flour."

"But, Mistress!" Morlan objected, "That would be an enormous thing!" Garia nodded in turn. "How could anyone make a mill that big? How big would the water-wheel need to be? And wood is very hard, I can't believe you could feed a log into a pair of mill wheels and grind it up."

"The wheels aren't wheels, more like the insides of a mincing machine." Morlan looked blank and Garia realized that he had probably never seen the inside of a kitchen in his life. "And they are cast of steel, not stone. However, you don't need to grind up trees, at least not to start with. Just sawdust will do. You mix it with water and pound it, and then let it dry out in thin sheets. Probably just as smooth as the parchment you have on your table and much cheaper and easier to make."

Morlan looked at Garia. Was she making fun of him? There was a single word that kept cropping up in here explanations and he didn't like it, as it meant she avoided telling him what he wanted to know. Machine. He pressed on. "And the writing on these sheets?"

"Is all done with big machines," she replied. "As I said before, we have no scribes."

At that point Garia dried up as she suddenly realized she was on the point of handing over information she possibly should not. What was it in Star Trek, the Prime Directive? Paper was probably okay, the society would almost certainly benefit from that, but printing was a different matter. Who could she discuss these matters with, if anyone?

Morlan had come to conclusions of his own, and they weren't comfortable ones.

"Machines, machines, all I hear is talk of machines! Is your whole country full of machines?"

Garia did a double-take and then thought. "Why, yes, I suppose it is," she said slowly. Planes, cars, ships, radios, elevators, cookers, washing machines, lawn mowers, televisions, cell phones, computers, and that was just what the man in the street used. Behind the scenes she knew it was even more so. Perhaps we live in the Machine Age, she thought.

"This whole afternoon has been wasted listening to your nonsense," Morlan fumed. "Machines, mills crushing trees, elected rulers, money made of flimsy sheets, even women voting! All fantasy! I still think you're a spy, come from some land beyond the ocean. Why do you still deny it?"

"Morlan," Garia said, her temper rising, "every word I have said here today has been the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. I told you that this morning."

"And you expected me to believe you?" he sneered. "You're just a girl, whose word doesn't count for anything. This afternoon has been lies, lies and more lies, just as I expected."

"Are you casting doubts on my word, Master Morlan?"

"What word? Only a man can give his word, a woman can't, not in Palarand, not anywhere I know."

"If I could proficiently use the weapons of this place," Garia said coldly, "I would challenge you. Then you would find out if a woman can keep her word."

Morlan eyes bulged. "You little tramp, I don't need weapons to take care of you."

Garia opened her mouth to make a sharp reply and then thought better of it. Instead she turned to Keren.

"Highness, might I ask you to accompany me back to my chamber? Master Morlan listens but he does not hear. I fear that we will make no progress today."

Keren jumped up. "Why, certainly, Mistress Garia. I will accompany you back, and then once I have done that," he turned to face Morlan, "I will tell my father all that has happened here."

Morlan twisted his face into a snarl, but he kept silent. He stood and bowed to his Prince. Keren turned and held out a hand to help Garia stand, and then followed her to the door.

They walked through the corridors, Jenet following dutifully behind. When they got to an intersection Garia stopped. Keren looked at her enquiringly.

"Highness, every word I said in that room is the truth," she said earnestly. "Can I ask if you believe me?"

Keren studied her carefully. The stresses of the last few minutes showed clearly on her face but he saw no attempt at guile.

"Mistress, I don't know that I am qualified to answer that," he answered. "I know of no way that the truth can be determined, if any of what you told us is true. By the same token, there is no way in which Morlan can say that you aren't telling the truth." He came to a decision. "Come, let us return to your chamber, perhaps you and I can then have a talk before I go and disturb the King."

Keren grinned and Garia smiled, as they both knew the King would still be deep in his accounts and would not welcome another interruption.

Back in the Lilac Chamber they took seats either side of the fireplace.

"Sit down, Jenet, you've been standing all day."

"But I mustn't, Mistress."

"I insist. There's no reason you shouldn't be comfortable if you're not actually doing something."

"As you wish, Mistress." Jenet perched on a chair near the window, as far away from the pair as she could get. Keren regarded Garia with approval.

"This morning," Garia began, "Master Morlan told me not to judge others by their own experiences."

"I take your point, Mistress," Keren said immediately. "He was doing the same to you, wasn't he? Hardly surprising in the circumstances, but even so."

"He must have a certain level of imagination to be able to do his job, surely?"

"I would have reasoned so, Mistress. After all, people in other countries can't be expected to think about us the same way we do. Are you suggesting that he is not the right person to be performing that job?"

"I wouldn't dare to presume, Highness. It would only give Morlan more ammunition, make him more suspicious."

"Ammunition?"

"More..." Garia stopped, disconcerted. No guns! "Arrows to fire at me."

"Ah. Aye, I agree. Still, it seems that Morlan is resistant to new ideas, particularly new ideas of certain sorts, I have seen that for myself." He smiled at Garia. "So, to answer your earlier question, Mistress, I do believe you, at least with reservations. You are certainly not the simple young girl that Morlan seems to think he is dealing with." He thought. "I don't think we can substitute Morlan in this process, it would just cast more suspicion on yourself that you are manipulating the situation to your own advantage. I just wish there was some way you can convince him of whom and what you really are."

"Believe me, Your Highness, I have been trying to think of a way, but it's difficult. It's bad enough being on a completely strange world, I'm also having to come to terms with a whole new body. I'm having to learn to deal with all this flummery for a start." She flounced up the skirt of her dress with her hands. "Women's clothing back home is different to all this, although women do wear dresses at times, it is true, but of course being a boy I had nothing to do with any of it."

"You'll have to take my word for it, then," Keren said, "the gown suits you perfectly. In fact, I think it matches your coloring better than when my sister wore it." His face grew serious. "It hadn't occurred to me what such a change might mean to someone. You must be finding it quite strange."

"Trust me, strange doesn't begin to cover it. These, for example." Garia pushed a finger into one of her breasts. "These are quite the oddest things ever to grow on a body. They are nothing at all like I expected them to be. And then there's the fact that there's nothing down there," she put a hand on her lower abdomen. "I really don't know if I've gained or lost by this transaction."

Keren regarded her thoughtfully. The body might be that of a girl, even a good-looking girl, but she didn't behave at all like any girls that he knew. Of course, most of the girls he knew fell into two camps, servants, or daughters of rulers from other countries whose parents wanted to marry them off to the next King of Palarand. No, this young person was of a kind he had not come across before and she intrigued him.

Jenet jumped up.

"The tenth bell, Mistress. Highness, with your permission, we need to make Mistress Garia ready for the evening meal. If you would excuse us?"

Keren took the hint. "Yes, Jenet, of course." He stood. "I'll go and find my father, then, and see you at table."

He bowed towards Garia. She stood and curtseyed, and Keren turned and left the room.

"I don't hear these bells of yours, Jenet. Is it a particular note you listen for?"

"I don't think so, Mistress. It's just that the bells aren't very loud in this part of the palace, this chamber faces the wrong way. I've been hearing them almost all my life so I know what to listen for. Next time I get a chance, I'll warn you in time so that you can hear them yourself."

Jenet opened the closet door. "Mistress, we will need to change your gown for the evening meal. Shall I get some out for you to choose from?"

"Jenet, you know I won't have the faintest idea," Garia protested. She considered, and realized that she would have to devote some of her time and energy to learning how to be a woman in this society. She sighed. "Yes, Jenet, by all means. I'm going to have to learn how to do all this, aren't I?"

Jenet gave a small grin and moved towards the closet.

While the day dresses were broadly similar to the one she had worn today the more formal dresses she had been supplied with reminded Garia faintly of Elizabethan or Stuart styles, what she could remember of those. After all, how many red-blooded American males are interested in historical women's costumes? True, there were no elaborate ruffs or slashed sleeves but the gowns were long, full and made of quite heavy fabric. Although buttons were occasionally to be seen, usually on the sleeves, all the dresses were laced up the center of the back.

Since there was a little time before going down to the dining room, Jenet suggested that it would be a good idea to try some of them on so that they could see what fitted and what didn't. Two were immediately discarded as being too tight or too short and Jenet intended returning them to the Mistress of the Wardrobe. The others were a mixed bag. Garia hoped that she wouldn't be stuck inside one of the heavier dresses on a particularly hot evening.

One surprise was that, with the exception of the breast-supporting bodice, no underwear was worn by the women of the court at this time of year. Jenet did mention that "when Kalikan called" certain arrangements were made to protect their clothing. This oblique reference completely escaped Garia.

I have to admit, the present arrangement is a great deal more comfortable than having bunched-up sweaty cloth wedged between my legs all day. No wonder the girls back home all wear short skirts in the summer!

Finally having selected a suitable summer-weight dress of palest green silk Garia was ready just as Jenet announced that the evening meal gong had sounded.

~o~O~o~

Today's main course was fish. At least these appeared to both resemble and taste like their Earthly counterparts. Garia supposed that was due to evolutionary pressures. If you lived in a river, then your shape was constrained by the need to move through the water effectively. Some interesting spices were used in the dish as well, and her appetite seemed better. Despite the arguments of the afternoon, she felt in much better spirits than she had done since arriving at the palace.

"I trust that your health is improving, Mistress Garia? You certainly seem to have a better appetite now."

"Thank you Sire," she replied to Robanar during a pause between courses. "I do feel better, although there is still a slight headache. It isn't troubling me much, though."

"I understand there were more disagreements this afternoon?"

"Regrettably, yes, Your Majesty. It appears that Master Morlan persists in judging me by my appearance, thinking that I must be something like a girl of a similar age from nearby."

"I think we've all come to the conclusion that you're nothing like that, Mistress. The big problem is for us to determine what you are like. Morlan has difficulty with some of the strange things you have been telling him, they are entirely outside his experience. If he cannot understand, what hope is there for the rest of us?"

"That's not entirely true, father," Keren interjected, "I think I'm beginning to build a picture of what Mistress Garia's world might be like. The problem is that it is taking Morlan so long to get anywhere, as he argues over every single thing Mistress Garia says to him."

"He is very good at what he does," Robanar observed, "and I cannot say that I blame him when he tries to solve new problems by looking at old solutions. You think that Mistress Garia is innocent, then? You aren't saying that because you might be attracted to her, by some chance?"

Both Garia and Keren blushed deeply.

"Father, that was uncalled for," Keren protested. "It's certainly not a subject for discussion at the dining table. Perhaps we should retire to the parlor after we've eaten and talk about these matters further."

Robanar smiled at Keren's discomfort but took the hint. His original light conversational remark had apparently sparked off something deeper and the subject was really not suitable for the ears of all those around the table. He turned to Garia.

"Mistress, I'm sorry if I am causing you embarrassment, my words were intended to be light-hearted. Let's change the subject. The weather is hot, are you comfortable? I know that you are not attired as you might be wherever you came from, do you find any problems with the clothes the Mistress of the Wardrobe has supplied?"

"It is about as hot here as I am used to at home, Your Majesty. As for the clothes, I must thank your Majesties for what you have provided. I am finding them very strange to wear, but they are comfortable, especially in this heat. Jenet has proved invaluable in teaching me what to wear, how to present myself and some of the palace customs."

"That's good, my dear," Queen Terys said from beyond Robanar. "I know it's difficult for you at the moment, but I'm sure you'll ask if you need to know anything."

"Oh, I will, Your Majesty, I will."

~o~O~o~

In one of the royal parlors everyone found seats. Robanar looked at Keren.

"Keren? There were things you wanted to discuss?"

"Yes, Father. I think it's unfair to suggest that I might be attracted to Mistress Garia, after all, I only met her yesterday! However, since I have met her, and particularly since I've spent some time in her company in Morlan's quarters, I have realized that she has a certain air about her you just don't get from any of the other young people I've been introduced to."

Garia blushed deeply at the unsolicited praise. Keren continued.

"At the moment there are few others in the palace of my own age, father, and I would have thought it natural that when someone new comes along that I might take the time to find out more about them. However, Mistress Garia's position here is strange and I don't think it serves any good purpose to suggest things in public that cannot be true. Is that not so, Mistress?"

"Your Majesty," Garia said, "I'm sure that you are well aware that the more people who think they know something, the more it is likely to spread, and the bigger chance that whatever is said will be altered the further it gets from the source. I'm sure you wouldn't want rumors to spread throughout the palace or even the city. I certainly don't, as they might prevent me from having a fair hearing."

Robanar nodded. "You argue well, Mistress. I can understand both your concerns. Very well, we'll keep our discussions to the people in this room for the time being. Oh, and Morlan, of course."

Terys said, "I'm afraid it may be too late to keep the subject quiet, dear. I have already heard several rumors about our mystery guest, none of them anything other than nonsense."

"Really?"

"Aye," the Queen replied. "She's a sorceress who flew in on a ptuvil. She's a Kittrin in disguise. She's a traveler who's fallen on hard times and managed to get into the Palace by spinning tall tales. She comes from Kalikan and just popped out of thin air up in the mountains. That's just a selection my maids have told me that are circulating the palace."

Robanar chuckled. "Interesting." He turned to Garia. "I trust, Mistress, that you aren't any of these things?"

"I don't think so, Sire. However, I'm not really sure how I did get here. I'm not even sure where here is."

"But, you're in Palarand," Robanar said. "Surely that's a start? I'm not sure I understand your difficulty."

"Sire, this is not my world," she explained. "The world which I come from, which is called Earth, has been thoroughly explored and every part of it has been described and cataloged in considerable detail. Even if it were not for the fact that my world has only one moon, then the various animals and plants I have seen since I appeared here would have told me that I was somewhere else entirely. We know that some other worlds exist, but the very little we know about conditions on those worlds leads us to believe that no life can exist on them, so this world, the one I understand you call Anmar, must be very far away from Earth.

"Now, I do know that nobody on my world has the ability to send someone from one world to another, so how I was transferred from there to here is a mystery. I appeared to be wearing the same clothing I would have been wearing at home, but why I am a girl and not a boy is another mystery. I also cannot explain why I can speak your language, although I have discovered that I still know my own native tongue. In order to try and solve these mysteries, if it is at all possible, I must learn about my surroundings."

"Mistress, if what you say is true, then I can appreciate your concerns," Robanar said. "I can say that we will do all that is in our power to help you, as I'm sure that you would wish to return home if it is possible. But something else is making you unhappy."

Garia said, "Yes, Sire. Master Morlan has got it into his head that I am a spy, and therefore he discounts everything I say which doesn't support his case. The problem is that I am not a spy, and I am searching for some way in which I can demonstrate that to him. Since I know next to nothing about this world, I am finding that difficult. I'm just floundering around in a fog. Morlan won't tell me anything at all as he considers that he would be giving information to a spy."

"What sort of information is Morlan objecting to, Mistress?"

She replied, "Almost everything, Sire! For example, I know that I am in Palarand, but I don't know what Palarand is. I don't know how to tell the time here. I don't know the names of almost anything I've eaten at your table. I don't know the name of the great river which flows through the valley, in fact I don't even know which way it flows. "

Keren said, "Looked at from Morlan's point of view, he's right, Mistress. If you're a spy, then you already know all of this, and you must just be pretending not to know these things in order to find out more things that may be useful. However," he switched his attention to his father, "I've now seen Morlan questioning Mistress Garia, and he seems very resistant to considering any explanation that doesn't agree with his chosen theory. I don't know why that is. Perhaps he has other information we are not aware of."

"Your own opinion?" Robanar asked Keren.

"I think I believe that Mistress Garia comes from another world," Keren said. "I'm not sure about her other claims, but she shows no knowledge of local customs at all. She can read and write, although in her own language only, and I saw her do arithmetic in front of Morlan. I suppose that it is possible that she comes from another land beyond the explored seas, but why tell the truth about one thing and then lie about others?"

"Mistress Garia," Robanar said, "it seems you have a problem here and I fear it is beyond the likes of us to solve it. I personally do not feel that you are a danger to the kingdom, but that's why I keep expert advisors. For all we know you may be a cunning actress, intent on deceiving all of us."

So the King is neutral at the moment, dependent on his experts. He doesn't consider me to be much of a danger otherwise I'd probably be locked up. On the other hand, I represent an unknown quantity and he's reluctant to trust me until he knows more. And then there's Morlan, who's beginning to come across as increasingly paranoid. Yuck.

"I understand that, Your Majesty. I do not know how to solve this puzzle. Perhaps I shall have to think of an entirely different approach."

~o~O~o~

She lay back in bed, the covers pulled away as it was so warm. There was still a fair amount of light, but it would go rapidly once it started.

How have I gotten myself into this pickle? Why am I here? In fact, why exactly am I here at all? Was there some point to this whole exercise? Have I been brought here to do something specific, or is it just chance, or, perhaps, is it all some ghastly mistake? Why as a girl, wouldn't Gary have done?

She answered that one herself.

Maybe not. If I had shown up on that mountain road as Gary, I might just be still lying there filled with arrows. Even if I had been brought to Palarand I would almost certainly have ended up in the cells, probably considered a lunatic to boot. But this is an improvement?

This body is going to take some getting used to, she thought. I'm not used to being half everyone else's size, for one thing. And I certainly seem to react differently to other people's emotional states. I doubt Gary would even have noticed Morlan getting angry today. I certainly didn't notice my teachers' emotional states back in high school, did I?

Then there's these, she thought, bringing her hands up and placing one on each breast. Holy Cow!

Garia was totally unprepared for the sensations that spread through her body as her hands made contact, her nipples pushing themselves into her palms through the thin fabric of the nightdress.

Oh... my... God. No-one happened to mention that a girl's body was capable of this.

To someone whose man nipples had never seemed more than discolorations on his chest the abilities of her new body were a revelation. Garia spent some time as the light faded exploring the new territory she had discovered, finally relenting as the room darkened.

Ew. I'm wet down there. I hope it's not piss, I did hear that women don't have as good control of their bladders as men do. A blush in the darkness. I'm silly, aren't I? It comes from the Girl Place. Considering what happens down there, a little lubrication is probably a good thing. Her hands went without thinking down to her crotch and fresh sensations exploded through her body.

Some time later, flushed and sweating, Garia felt sleep coming because of her exertions and she relaxed completely. No-one told me that a girl's body was capable of that, either. No wonder some of them want to get laid every chance they get. Wow!

Garia's latest scheme for clarifying her position produces frustratingly mixed results forcing Robanar to intervene. Later a State banquet leads to an evening of danger, misdirection and subterfuge.

Somewhere Else Entirely

by Penny Lane

7 - Unexpected Visitors

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 by Penny Lane. All rights reserved.

---

As Jenet came into the bedroom she discovered Garia standing in front of the fireplace wearing nothing but a fluffy robe. She was facing the bed and she had pushed the furniture as far away as she could to make a space in which she could practice. She was making some strange, slow movements with her arms and legs.

"Mistress?"

Without stopping her movements or moving her head, Garia replied, "A moment, Jenet, I'm nearly finished."

When it became obvious that Garia had ended whatever she was doing Jenet asked, "What was that, Mistress? Some kind of dance of your own people?"

"No, it's a form of exercise," Garia replied. "It's called Tai Chi and is a way of stretching and loosening one's muscles ready for the day. I thought I ought to start keeping this body in shape now I've got it and am likely to be keeping it."

"It looked very strange, Mistress."

"Yes, it does, especially if you don't know what's going on. It is a form of a martial art practiced by people in another part of my world."

"Martial art? What's that, Mistress? I thought art was paintings and statues."

"Oh, martial arts are a means of unarmed combat, or combat with minimal weapons. The idea is to use your opponent's strength or movement against themselves. There are a number of different disciplines, the names wouldn't mean much to you. Let's push these chairs back into place."

"Have you thought about what to wear this morning, Mistress?"

"Is it going to be as warm today as it was yesterday, do you know?"

"No, I heard it said there is more cloud, so it will be a little cooler. Why?"

"Let's try that pale blue dress today, then. Do you think that will be suitable?"

Jenet considered. "Very suitable, Mistress. Now, you're already in your robe, shall we head for the bathroom?"

~o~O~o~

Garia entered the dining room for breakfast and Robanar beckoned to her. He was talking to Morlan and Garia's stomach immediately did a back-flip. She rallied and walked over.

"Mistress," the King greeted her. "I trust you slept well?"

"Thank you, Your Majesty," she replied with a curtsey, "I did, even though it was so warm." She turned to Morlan. "Good morning, Master Morlan."

Morlan gave her his usual glower but he seemed edgy. Perhaps he didn't like discussing Garia with the King in her presence.

"Mistress Garia," Morlan eventually responded with a tiny nod of the head. "I trust you will have something more sensible to say to me today?"

She favored him with a small smile. "Yes, Master, I think I do this time." She turned to Robanar. "Will it be possible for me to borrow Keren this morning, Sire? I don't want to keep him from his duties, but just this once more will be sufficient, I think."

Robanar smiled. "Oh, I think we can arrange that, Mistress. He'll be out on the training field at the moment, I'll send someone off to fetch him. I imagine that he enjoys the chance to involve himself in something different for a change."

Morlan's sour look returned as he heard that Prince Keren was to be present but he said nothing. The food began to be brought in and they all took seats at the tables, this time Garia found herself between Queen Terys and Morlan. Because of this the meal was fairly short of conversation.

Towards the end of the meal Keren appeared. He had cut short his usual morning's activities and changed into tunic and hose. He seated himself across the table from Garia and drank some of the 'tea' while he waited for everyone else to finish eating. As had happened the previous morning Morlan cut across the garden towards his quarters immediately the meal had finished, everyone else trailing behind. Once settled in the study the Questor favored Garia with a sour expression.

"So, Mistress. What have you to say to me today, that might convince me of your pure intentions?"

"Master Morlan," Garia began, "It occurred to me yesterday evening that part of the problem we suffer is from your perception of me." Morlan's brow furrowed. "By that I mean that because I look like a typical Palarand girl of fifteen, that's what you see, and you therefore make assumptions about my maturity and my education which bear very little relation to the truth. So, this morning, I want to try and make you understand that in my world, a girl of about my age and education knows a great deal more than you might expect. In fact, it is possible that in certain areas, I know a great deal more than you."

Morlan's lip curled but he said nothing. Instead he gestured with his arm for her to continue.

"Since I don't understand any measuring system you use in Palarand, I may need to make extensive use of your blackboard," she added. "If you will permit me?"

Morlan nodded assent and Garia stood and walked to the blackboard. "Is there anything here you wish kept, Master Morlan? No? Good."

She turned and gave him a broad smile, quite unsettling him.

"Then first, let us talk about an old guy who lived in my world thousands of years ago." She gave him another smile. "His name was Pythagoras."

---

"You cannot divide the diameter of a circle into it's circumference and get a whole number," she said. "It just isn't possible. There are other numbers that work out like that, we call them 'irrational numbers'. We have to use special symbols to represent them."

"But surely, Mistress, you can find a fraction to represent this number you talk of? Such as twenty-two divided by seven?"

"It depends how accurately you need the answer, but you can never make it an exact fraction. We have to use formulae to calculate them, formulae with no end."

"How can you have a formula with no end? That doesn't make sense."

"Like this..." She applied chalk to board, setting out an arithmetic progression.

---

"But, everyone knows that summer comes when the sun is highest in the sky."

"Yes, but I've just explained why it gets higher in the sky during summer, because of the axial tilt of Anmar."

---

I'm not a nerd but I definitely have nerd-like leanings, I suppose. It's not surprising when you grow up over a bookshop. Oh, I played enough sports, hung out with the guys and got interested in the girls, but I would always prefer a book to a TV show or a computer game. Don't ask me why, I just find them more satisfying. Oh, there are certain kinds of programs that I can find interesting. Thank God for the Discovery Channel! And it's probably just as well I am the bookish type, too. Imagine if I'd been one of the jocks, landed here with nothing but what's left in my memory. Ouch! I'd probably have already gotten laid!

---

"And that's why a meander in the river eats away the bank on the outside and deposits sediment on the inside, making it even bigger."

---

"I want to try a word, see if it is known in the common tongue. Telescope."

"How do you know about those? They're supposed to be secret!"

"To you, maybe. My people have known about telescopes for over five hundred years. I'm not a spy, Morlan. I know most of what you want to hide from me anyway, things that aren't specific to Palarand, that is. Now, have you tried, um, actually looking at a planet through a telescope?"

"I don't see the point. I think some of the Questors who are star-gazers looked at stars through telescopes when they were first invented but they only show points of light no matter what you do. A planet is just a star that moves around, isn't it, so I can't see why it would make a difference."

Garia sighed. "They are not stars, Morlan, they are worlds just like the one you are standing on. Get a telescope. Look at each planet. Tell me what you see."

"If you insist, Mistress."

---

"There are only twenty-two elements, Mistress. Everything else is made up from different combinations of those twenty-two."

"There are actually ninety-two natural elements, Morlan. Some of those are extremely rare, some are well-hidden in unlikely places. Trust me, you'll find more if you devise careful enough experiments."

"Natural elements, Mistress? What does that mean?"

"We can make our own elements, Morlan. Don't ask me how, it involves extremely big machines that I know nothing about. Now, have you thought about what makes one element different to another?"

---

"...and that's why rain falls. Do you understand that explanation?"

"Yes, Mistress, that's amazing! To think that there's all that going on up in the sky, and we only see a tiny fraction of it. I would be interested to find out how your people discovered these things."

"Actually, some of it can be shown with experiments in a laboratory."

"What's that, Mistress? The word is unfamiliar."

"Laboratory? Why, Morlan, you have one yourself! That's the name I would give to the room outside that door."

~o~O~o~

They had to send for drinks, snacks, and more chalk. A totally transformed Morlan had to be persuaded to stop for the mid-day meal. Both Garia and Keren were exhausted, and Garia's throat was beginning to feel raw with all the talking she had done. Nevertheless, it seemed as though Morlan now had a better appreciation of Garia's abilities and it was readily apparent that in a number of cases she was truly better informed than he was.

More interesting to Garia was the effect that her barnstorming lecture session had made on Keren. He had joined in the discussions right from the start and she realized that only the demands made upon him simply because he was the son of the King had prevented him from becoming a Questor himself. Or, as she realized as they walked across the cloistered garden to the dining room for lunch, Scientist.

She had completely misunderstood the nature of Morlan's position in the palace, she had assumed that he was some kind of counter-intelligence operator and it had now become apparent that he was more of a natural scientist in the mold of Newton or Franklin.

"Sire, I have much to report," an excited Morlan told Robanar. "Mistress Garia has demonstrated to me that, to my shame, she is much better informed than any member of the Society of Questors. I have learned new things about the physical world, discovered much that I did not understand about the natural world and been shown several new interesting mathematical techniques. It is certainly my wish that I should have more conversations with her, as it seems that I have much to learn."

The King nodded approvingly. "So, in your opinion, would you recommend that Mistress Garia be made a member of the Society of Questors, then?"

"Sire, I would recommend such a thing, even though I suspect that some of the other Questors will object to the fact that she is a woman."

"And, in your opinion, do you still consider her to be a danger to Palarand?"

Morlan hesitated. "Sire, that question still remains to be determined. I have learned nothing about how she came here nor the reason why, nor anything about the whereabouts of the place she claims to come from. I still consider that she might be some kind of spy."

Ooooh! That man! Garia felt her teeth locking together and a red haze descending in front of her. How can he be so stubborn! Standing behind Morlan, Keren rolled his eyes at his father and gently shook his head. Robanar looked at them both and then gestured that they all sit at the table. Morlan moved off, oblivious of the rage he had left building behind him.

"Keren, Mistress," Robanar cautioned quietly, "leave this for now. Let us eat and then we can discuss it afterwards in some privacy. Mistress, do you think you can command your temper during the meal?"

"Sire, it will be difficult, but I will try."

"Then sit beside me, if you will, since the Queen is visiting friends in Palarand today and you may help the meal-time conversation along."

"As you wish, Sire."

At the end of the meal Robanar beckoned to Morlan.

"Sire?"

"Would you care to discuss this morning's findings in greater detail, Morlan? I can spare some time this afternoon if you need privacy to tell me your complete thoughts."

"Why, thank you Sire for the offer, but unfortunately I have a previously arranged engagement in town I must prepare for." He gave a small, hard smile in Garia's direction. "Mistress Garia will probably welcome some time away from me, is that not so?"

"As you say, Master Morlan."

"Sire," Morlan continued, "I would look forward to discussing these matters with yourself tomorrow morning if that will be convenient, along with Mistress Garia and any others you may wish to attend."

Robanar nodded. "Very well, Morlan. Tomorrow after breakfast." He turned to Keren and Garia. "Keren, Mistress, would you walk with me?"

Morlan watched the King lead the two youngsters from the dining room with a frown. It was already apparent that the King disagreed with Morlan's opinion, would he go further? With a shrug, he turned and left the room to get ready for his trip into the city.

In the parlor they all seated themselves.

"Keren, tell me as much as you feel able to about what happened this morning," Robanar commanded. He turned to Garia. "Mistress, I intend no disrespect but it is important that I understand how my son has interpreted whatever you said this morning. If it is necessary for you to clarify something, I will ask you."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

Keren then proceeded to give his father a blow-by-blow account of the morning's session, Garia discovering during the process that he had an extremely good memory. Because of the nature of the conversation talk spilled over to include the previous afternoon's session which Keren had also attended.

"Mistress," Robanar said to her when they had finished, "This world you come from sounds rather frightening in some respects. That being said, it appears to be no better or worse than our own, merely with different advantages and dangers. Tell me," he asked her, "do you think that you will ever be able to return there?"

Tears had started to form in her eyes. "No, Your Majesty," she said, almost in a whisper. "I'm completely lost. I don't know how to get back because I don't know where I am and I don't know how I got here."

"Jenet," Robanar commanded. Garia had forgotten that her maid had followed her into the parlor, and neither man had commented or tried to make her leave. "A cloth to wipe your Mistress's tears, if you would."

"Sire."

Robanar's gaze was on the rich carpet as he considered what to do about Garia. He looked up at Keren, a question in his eyes. A startled Keren returned his gaze, then nodded quietly.

"Mistress, I have come to a decision," the King said to Garia. "Despite Morlan's insistence, I do not think that you represent any immediate danger to Palarand or its people. You are completely stranded in a strange world about which you know very little, with almost no prospect of leaving. In this world, I would think that any place might suit you as well as any other, but it is to Palarand that you were brought and it is Palarand that offers you safety. You may remain in our lands as long as you wish, as one of my subjects. If it is your wish, you may remain in the palace as a resident. There are a number of good and sound reasons why I would prefer that you did remain in the palace, but in the end it must be your own choice."

"Sire," Garia stammered, "I don't know what to say. Thank you for your kind offer." The tears started again and she dabbed with the cloth. To be accepted, somewhere, by people who apparently had her interests at heart touched her in an unexpectedly deep fashion. I am completely stranded, aren't I? A pint-sized girl like I am now needs to have someone look after her, I can't do it all on my own. The palace is probably the safest place around, surely?

"Sire," she started again, "If I may, I will accept your offer to remain in the palace. As I mentioned yesterday, I know next to nothing about my surroundings and there is much I have to learn. As time passes it may be that I can offer help to you and your country, perhaps then my needs might be different. For now, I feel safe here."

"Mistress Garia," Robanar said, "you are welcome in my palace. I said that there are good and sound reasons for you remaining in the palace, did I not? You may not yet realize that you could represent a serious danger to Palarand and the countries which surround it, because of the knowledge which you hold. I do not seek to detain you but I would like to keep you safe from those who might covet that knowledge."

Garia was surprised at this comment. Of course, she thought. Inside my head is a virtual Pandora's Box. We will have to find some way of benefiting from that knowledge without causing too much disruption. And I never thought that there might be others who would be after that knowledge. Surely Robanar doesn't think -

"Sire," she asked slowly, "when I was, er, well, arguing with Morlan yesterday afternoon, he told me that a woman's word counted for nothing here. Is that true?"

"That is not true, Mistress, and never has been. Did he really say that to you?"

"Father, he did," Keren confirmed. "I do not know whether he meant it or not, or if it was just an angry retort flung out in the middle of an argument to belittle Mistress Garia. Mistress, the word of a woman, particularly a woman of noble status, is as valid as that of any man."

"Then, Sire," Garia got up from her chair, pulled up her skirts and awkwardly got down on one knee in front of a surprised Robanar, "before Prince Keren as a witness I give you my word that I will never do anything to harm Palarand or its people, and I also swear that I will only use the knowledge that I hold for the good of the peoples of Anmar." She looked up at his astonished face. "Sire, in my country it is customary for every child to swear an oath to my country's flag every morning in school. I do not believe that that oath binds me here, since I do not believe that the United States of America has the faintest idea where I am. If you wish me to take an oath as a citizen, or your subject, or whatever you do in Palarand, then I will do so."

Robanar's eyes softened as he considered the young woman kneeling in front of him. "Rise, Mistress Garia. You make a very generous offer and you have touched me deeply. I will not ask you for an oath, not yet, as you have yet been in Palarand a bare four days. When you have had time to understand us, then you may freely give your oath. It will not change your status here."

He held out both hands to Garia. She took them and he helped her to her feet.

"Jenet! Find a footman, ask him to bring the Chamberlain."

"Sire."

In a short while the Chamberlain appeared, puffing with exertion. Garia realized that the man must have been asleep as it was now the 'siesta' period after lunch.

"Kendar. Mistress Garia's status will be changing."

"Sire?"

"She is to become a Lady of the court, with all the privileges that apply, and I am granting her long-term residence in the palace. Which chamber is she presently assigned?"

"Ah, the Lilac Chamber, Sire."

"Ah, yes, that is suitable for now. Will you make the necessary adjustments?"

"As you command, Sire. Uh, Mistress Garia's maid."

"Yes? Mistress, are you satisfied with your maid? You would not want another?"

"Sire, Jenet is a treasure. I would not wish to change her." Behind her, Jenet's face colored.

"Then she shall be assigned to you permanently. Kendar, see to it."

"As you command, Sire."

After Kendar had left Garia had a question.

"Sire, what might you be thinking to do about Morlan? Assuming that it's any of my business, of course."

Robanar's face set, his mouth a line as he considered. "Hmm. A very difficult problem, Mistress. He may very well consider that you have talked me into accepting you, which is not true at all. In truth, although his knowledge and wisdom have been invaluable to Palarand in the past, your arrival has shown that he has some severe weak spots. It seems that he cannot handle unusual situations. It may be difficult to do much directly as he is my Royal Questor and I may antagonize the whole Society of Questors if I just relieve him of his post." He smiled at Garia. "Thank you for reminding me, my dear. I fear I may have to spend some time considering this awkward question. Until then, I trust you will say nothing of these matters to him?"

"As Your Majesty commands," Garia said with a straight face.

Robanar grinned openly then. "Keren, I do believe that we will enjoy the company of Mistress Garia at court, wouldn't you say?"

"Indeed I do, Father."

Garia thought. "This Society of Questors. Didn't you say originally that more than one should be involved in questioning me? I ask because it seems strange that I have seen no-one but Morlan since my arrival here."

Robanar looked at Keren.

"An interesting question, Mistress. I will ask Morlan about that at the next opportunity."

Garia had an inspiration. "That old coot! I wonder if that's what he's up to." The two men looked at her enquiringly. "He wants to keep me as his own personal source of knowledge," she said. "Then I get stuck in the palace, unknown to all, and he takes the credit for all the new things he tells them about. It might be worth checking if he has told any of the other Questors anything about me. I guess that's my own fault for not considering the vanity of an established scientist."

"That is a grave charge, Mistress, and one I fear it would be difficult to prove." Garia opened her mouth but Robanar held up a hand to forestall her. "I didn't say you were wrong, in fact the more I think about it the more I fear you might be correct, I just don't think that any of us would be able to prove such an accusation. Never mind, it will all go on the scales when I consider Morlan's future."

There was a knock at the door and Kendar reappeared.

"Sire, Mistress Garia has been added to the palace rolls as you commanded. There is a delegation from the city council to see you."

"Oh, aye! I had forgotten the time. If you will excuse me, Keren, Mistress."

"I think I'd better be heading back to my room," Garia murmured. "It's getting warm, I could do with a short nap."

"A good idea, Mistress," Keren replied. "I'll escort you."

~o~O~o~

A knock came at the door. Garia went and opened it to find a footman standing outside. He bowed.

"Mistress, the Chamberlain asks me to inform you and your maid that tonight you will be dining in the Receiving Room."

Jenet had come quickly to the door.

"A State reception? Are we expecting visitors, Serdel?"

Serdel nodded. "Aye, it is but a small party, I have not been informed who. If you'll excuse me, Mistress, Jenet." He bowed and walked off along the corridor.

"That changes things slightly, Mistress. You'll have to have a quick bath before I put you into another gown, and it will be one of the more formal gowns I saw at the back of the rail."

The heat of the day and the conversations in Morlan's quarters had left Garia feeling a little grubby so she didn't object to another dip in the tub. Being laced into a stiff, formal gown was entirely another matter though, particularly when that included a stiffened underbodice and voluminous underskirts. She almost changed her mind about wanting to learn to become a woman.

Finally Jenet, having temporarily left Garia on her own so that she could go and change into something more formal herself, escorted her mistress out of the room and along the corridor in the other direction. This was the way Garia had first come to the Lilac Room and she guessed that it led towards the more public parts of the maze-like palace. After carefully negotiating stairs down to the lower floor in the awkward gown Jenet led her along corridors she didn't recognize.

"Well, what have we here?"

A party, led by a footman, met them at an intersection. The party was seven men dressed in a different fashion than most others Garia had noticed around the palace, their clothing consisting of long straight colorful jackets with stiff, high collars over loose trousers. The whole effect reminded her of middle eastern or Indian costume. The leading man wore an elaborate pill-box hat and he came forward and offered his hand.

Garia curtseyed. She guessed that these men were from another country but had no clue how to address them or what protocol she should use towards them. The man, she guessed he would be in his mid-forties, frowned and lowered his hand.

"My name is Garia, Lord," she said. "I'm sorry, I'm new to the palace, I do not know how to address you properly."

"Mistress Garia," the man said, and bowed. "I am Farber Blackshield, I am the Resident in Palarand of the Ascendancy of Yod. Are you going to the dining room? Perhaps you may accompany us."

Garia turned and raised an eyebrow at Jenet. Jenet gave a small nod, but her expression said danger!

The group turned along the corridor Garia was about to use and they all set off, Garia alongside Farber Blackshield with Jenet relegated to the rear.

"You are not from Palarand, then, Mistress?" Blackshield asked.

This could get extremely dangerous, Garia thought. This man might be the equivalent of an Ambassador back home and they aren't known for being stupid. Almost anything I say to him is going to give away information Robanar might not want him to have. Damn them all for preventing me from finding out anything!

"No, I'm just visiting," she said after a pause to think up a strategy, "I come from the State of Kansas."

"...Kansas? I've not heard of the place," Blackshield said. "I assume it's far away. You've had a long journey, then?"

"Lord, I've no idea how far away," Garia answered truthfully. "I was ill for part of the journey, I don't even know how many days it took our wagon-train to do the journey."

"There are others in your party?"

"Yes, they have a mansion in Palarand. I am staying at the palace as a guest of the King." Oops. Now I've just told him I could be important. "That's as a result of my illness, it was felt that the King's medical people would know more about what was wrong with me." Nice save, let's see if he buys it.

"You have been ill? I'm sorry to hear that. I trust you are feeling better." But the words came out flat, Blackshield clearly didn't care one way or the other. "Are you staying long?"

"I'm not sure," Garia said. "That's for others to decide, Lord." She decided to see if the information flow worked the other way. "I've never heard of... Yod. Is it far from here?"

"It is up-river," Blackshield said. "About two hundred Marks as the ptuvil flies, although of course by boat the distance would be about double."

Ah, the meanders of the river. And that thing, sounds like a bird, doesn't it? I think I'd better shut up now, before he starts asking me things I can't answer.

"Thank you, Lord. I'm sorry, I have a headache, it's something left over from my illness." Also true.

The footman led them towards a pair of huge, open, double doors, the room beyond being brightly lit. When she got to the doorway Garia realized that it was the room where they had waited the day she had arrived while Keren had gone off to find his father. Along the middle of the room ran a long table set for a grand banquet, the chairs which previously had been lined up against either wall were now along either side of the table in front of place settings. The room was full of people standing around, those who weren't servants were talking to each other.

"His Excellency the Resident for the Ascendancy of Yod and party," the functionary at the door announced and all the talk died as every head turned towards the group. Garia realized that she had accidentally been included in the "and party" and was about to say something when she noticed Keren heading towards her. She gave him a grateful smile as he approached.

"Your Excellency! Thank you for taking care of Mistress Garia," he said, holding out his arm for her to take.

"My pleasure," Blackshield replied. "An interesting person. I look forward to hearing more another time, Mistress," he said to Garia. She curtseyed and then accompanied Keren over to join his parents.

"A few minutes for everyone to relax," Robanar muttered, "and then we can start. How did you manage to get tangled up with them, Mistress? They are very dangerous people, I should have made sure your maid chose another route."

"An accidental meeting in the corridor, Your Majesty. Jenet gave me enough of a warning, I was mostly careful."

"Mostly?" Keren hissed under his breath while still appearing to keep a friendly public face.

"Ah, I told him I came from Kansas, I was ill on the journey and didn't know how long it took or how far, and that I was staying in the palace. All true, unfortunately the last fact may suggest that I have some importance."

"You did well, my dear," Robanar murmured. "You spoke nothing but the truth, so far it goes, and much good may it do him."

Garia could see the party inspecting the King's group with great interest, and then at a word they moved towards the King. The Resident held out his hand and the King shook it, but he didn't offer any direct greeting to Terys or Keren, merely nodding when Robanar gave their names. Finally the introductions were over and Robanar nodded to his Chamberlain. A gong sounded and servants assisted everyone to their seats.

After learning to negotiate stairs without breaking any bones Garia discovered the second difficulty with wearing voluminous skirts. She could not sit down in the chair provided. Her face flaming, she had to ask Jenet for help.

"Reach round behind your bottom, Mistress," Jenet whispered, "grab two handfuls of skirt and lift up as you sit. That should give you sufficient loose cloth to sit down properly."

Garia wasn't surprised to find that the group from Yod were seated opposite the King and Queen in the center of the table. Keren was next to his mother with Garia on his other side. Robanar stood and made a short speech welcoming the Representative and his associates to the palace before servants began bringing in the first course and filling goblets.

Damn. I'm seated in front of these strange people and I can't say a word. The moment I start eating they'll know I don't belong in the palace, that I'm just a country hick unfamiliar with noble ways. I'm going to have to be so careful. She nearly dropped her goblet of wine when she noticed that Morlan was seated at the other end of the table. Oh, no. That's all I need to make my day complete. Just concentrate on the food and play up the headache.

The meal was just as awkward as the one the previous evening had been and Garia again cursed a society which hadn't yet invented the fork. As before, Jenet was on hand to assist, and Garia noticed that palace servants provided the same services to the visitors. None of them was about to get their hands dirty, and she noticed one or two superior looks from them as they spotted palace functionaries further down the table using their hands to tackle the leg-joint each had been given.

"Mistress, you look uncomfortable," the man sitting opposite her said.

"I am, Master," she replied. "Since I am not from these parts I am not used to wearing such formal clothes as these and they are not comfortable."

"Then, Mistress, why do you not wear clothes from your own country, such as we are doing? It is quite acceptable for strangers to wear different garb when being received by the Head of State."

"Thank you, Master, for your concern. Since I do not know how long I shall be in Palarand, I am taking the opportunity to try out some of the local fashions. It's a female thing, you understand. I suspect tonight I have made a mistake in my choice of gown."

"As you say, Mistress."

Course followed course and so did the accompanying drinks. Garia, unused to alcohol in any quantity, tried to moderate her intake and was eventually reduced to asking Jenet to bring some water. By that time everything had begun to float a little and she realized that she had better be extra careful for the rest of the evening.

As the meal ended Robanar rose and so did everyone else. Garia was therefore surprised when she felt Keren's hand intertwine with her own as they stood side by side. She thought that he might have some plan to prevent the Yodans from cornering her, and she was right, but it wasn't quite what she had realized it was going to be.

Behind them, servants had removed all the chairs and were placing them back against the wall. Robanar took Terys's hand and the two strode off towards the end of the room where their thrones were. Keren turned to Garia with a smile.

"Shall we sit down, Garia?"

"Of course, Keren," she replied, fully conscious that neither had used the other's title.

Keren led her to the end of the room and found two chairs set to one side of the thrones. He seated her carefully before sitting beside her. Wide-eyed at the sudden deviation from protocol, Jenet took up station behind and to one side of the chair of her mistress. Keren turned to Garia.

"Quickly, before they start nosing around," he said rapidly and quietly. "Your visit here is personal, do you understand me? You've been brought here to be assessed as a possible candidate to be betrothed to me." He smiled. "Actually, I might wish that it were fact rather than fiction, but we have to act as though it's all for real. You mentioned that they might think you important, well, let's pretend that you're important for another reason altogether."

With a forced smile on her face she replied, "Are you mad? That story will never hold up for very long! The details of my coming here were never kept secret, they are bound to find out the truth sooner or later."

Keren raised an eyebrow. "The truth? Mistress, what exactly is the truth?"

Garia looked thoughtful. "Yes, you could be right, almost anything we say will confuse them further, won't it? Look out, here they come."

The Resident for the Ascendancy of Yod approached accompanied by two of his men. The others had scattered in search of other possible sources of information. Behind them, in the middle of the room, a mass of servants was clearing the tables and dismantling them, returning the room to its normal function. Garia smiled at Farber Blackshield.

"Resident," she said, giving him a brief nod. "Did you enjoy your meal?"

"Your Highness, Mistress," he replied. "I have eaten at the palace before. The food here is prepared to an agreeably high standard, thank you very much." He turned his attention to Keren. "I had not realized that the young woman was brought here to meet you, Your Highness. If I may venture an opinion, the Ascendancy of Yod would approve of this match were she to be found suitable."

Garia's face flamed. How could he! Then she realized that in this time and place, as it was much closer to her own time back on Earth, matches between royalty were matters more akin to horse-breeding than romance.

For some strange reason I quite liked holding his hand, though.

Never mind. Concentrate.

The Resident passed a few bland comments before excusing himself and heading for Robanar. Looking around the room, Garia snickered and nudged Keren.

"Look at Morlan!" she said quietly. "He's just spotted us and I think he's going to explode."

Morlan indeed looked displeased by the fact that Garia was seated next to Keren, and he began to make his way towards them round the mass of servants in the middle of the room. One of the Yodans intercepted him, however, and he became lost to view. Garia turned to Keren again.

"I need to know things," she hissed. "I'm stuck in Palarand and I know nothing at all about it! I don't know how to address anyone, I don't know my way round the palace, I don't even know what times meals are! I don't care what Morlan says, I have to start learning about my surroundings otherwise these people from Yod are going to take full advantage of my ignorance."

"It's tricky, Garia," Keren replied. "Looked at from one angle, what you ask for is just what Morlan would say makes you a spy. As far as he's concerned, you could even be working for Yod yourself."

"Not flaming likely," she said with passion. "In case you hadn't noticed, at least one of them has had his eyes locked on me the whole time since they discovered my existence. I represent a whole new factor to them and they want to know everything they can find out about me."

She turned to Jenet. "Could you possibly find me some fruit juice, Jenet? I don't think I can drink any more wine this evening, my body's not used to it, and I'd prefer something with a bit more taste than water."

"Fruit juice, Mistress?" Jenet asked cautiously.

"Yes, like what they serve for breakfast. See if you can find me some, will you? A goblet should be enough."

"As you wish, Mistress."

Garia waited until Jenet had left the room before turning back to Keren.

"I don't think that I met that group from Yod in the corridor accidentally," she said softly. "I think they were waiting for me." Keren's eyes widened. "That means, you have one or more spies among the palace staff."

"Maker! Are you sure of this?"

"No, I'm not, as I don't really know my way round the palace. But I'm making an educated guess that the Yod party wouldn't normally have been found going that way, would they?"

"I don't know which way you came. Oh! That's why you sent Jenet off, isn't it?"

"I don't accuse her of anything, at the moment it's more a case of, 'trust no-one'." She smiled. "I think you and the King and Queen are trustworthy, though."

"Thank you, Mistress." Keren said dryly and grinned, and Garia had to restrain herself again. His face grew thoughtful. "I might have wondered why they turned up here suddenly today. I'm sure there was nothing in the State diary. There's nothing much we can do here and now except fend off any awkward questions, though. Let's wait until the function's over and have a quiet get-together with Father and Mother. Oh, and we'll have to include Morlan, I'm afraid."

"And Jenet," Garia amended. "Whether she's trustworthy or not, she's the safest way of getting information about the household staff without alerting anyone else. Any lies she tells can soon be brought to light, can't they?"

Keren nodded. "True."

"Your Highness, Mistress Garia." Morlan had finally reached them and stood glowering.

"Do stop it, man," Keren told him, "you'll burst a blood vessel. Of course Garia was going to get invited to this reception. Because it is Yod and they are so nosy about everything, we had to make a cover story that was plausible, so calm down. Nothing's changed." He glanced at Garia. "Actually, that's not entirely true. Join us after the function is over, will you, Morlan? We need to have a quiet word with the King and Queen once everyone has left and we need you as well."

"As you wish, Highness." Morlan bowed and reluctantly moved away.

~o~O~o~

They met in the parlor. Jenet looked distinctly nervous as Keren chased all the other servants out but insisted that she stayed. Robanar looked at Keren as he closed the door.

"You wanted to discuss something in private, Keren?"

Keren told them what Garia had said earlier and Morlan's eyes bored into her as she sat in one of the big armchairs.

"You say that the Yodans deliberately positioned themselves to come across you, Mistress?" Robanar asked Garia. "Why would you think that?"

"They were waiting for us, I'm sure of it," she replied. Jenet's eyes widened. "I can't be absolutely certain, but I'm not sure that they should have been in that part of the palace if they were going from the front entrance to the Receiving Room. It also seemed to me a little odd the way they appeared at that intersection just when we did."

"Sire," Morlan said, "it is just possible, if they had got wind of the presence of Mistress Garia in the palace, to arrange a chance encounter with her, to find out more about her." He fixed his gaze on her. "To receive a report from her, perhaps."

"Morlan," Garia said, "do you trust Jenet?"

"Mistress?" Morlan was confused by the apparent change of subject. "I don't know her that well, but I have heard no bad reports of her. Why? How is this relevant?"

"Because Jenet was guiding me through the corridors. If you trust her, then she will tell you that I said nothing to them that could be used by them. If you do not trust her, then she may also be a spy, since she may conceal whatever I may have said to them."

"Mistress Garia," Queen Terys pointed out, "Jenet is an old retainer, known and trusted. I cannot believe that she had anything to do with this."

Garia bowed, as much as she was able. "Thank you, Your Majesty. That then means that there is at least one spy amongst the palace staff who told them when and where I would be walking."

"Mistress," Jenet said, "I was with you the whole time, from the moment you got out of bed until now. I could not have told anything to anyone."

"Not quite true, Jenet," Garia said. "After I had changed this evening you left me to go and get changed yourself. You could have spoken to someone then, even innocently."

"I didn't, Mistress! There were others there, it is true, we were all talking about the function, anyone could have passed on the word."

Morlan jumped. "You say Jenet left you, Mistress? On your own? Perhaps you took the opportunity to to contact these people yourself while she was gone?"

"And how would I do that, Master Morlan?" Garia responded. "I barely know the way from my room to the dining room for breakfast, I certainly don't know enough to find my way around the palace to contact people I've never heard of before."

"Ah," Morlan said with a self-satisfied smile, "we have only your word for that, of course."

"Morlan," an irritated Robanar broke in with an authoritative wave of his hand, "you left the palace this afternoon while conclusions were being made concerning Mistress Garia. I have decided, on the basis of what I have heard from yourself, from Mistress Garia and from Prince Keren, that Mistress Garia is not a danger to Palarand or its people, and I have offered her residence in the palace until such time as she wishes to depart."

"Your Majesty! You can't do that! There is no way of proving -"

"Enough!" Robanar's voice suddenly had the tone of command which would brook no dissent. "Unless you can bring me some specific example to show why Mistress Garia's status should be re-examined, I see no reason why she should not be offered a home here in Palarand." Robanar's tone softened slightly. "She will reside in the palace, so she will still be available for all those conversations which you told me at lunch you intended to have with her. I trust those conversations will include your fellow Questors?"

"I most humbly apologize, Your Majesty. As you say, Your Majesty."

"We will discuss this thoroughly in the morning, Morlan."

"As you command, Sire." Morlan stood. "Sire, if there is nothing further, it is late and there are some matters I must attend to. If you would permit me to retire?"

Robanar looked at Morlan thoughtfully. "Yes, I suppose so. I don't think we can come to any conclusion tonight, in any case, but tomorrow we must meet together, here, after breakfast and consider the implications of Mistress Garia's arrival in Palarand more fully. I must confess that until this afternoon I had not properly understood what might be at stake. Aye, Morlan, you may go."

~o~O~o~

"Mistress?"

"Jenet?"

"I think in view of what's happened this evening, I would suggest that you put the key in your side of the door and lock yourself in after I've finished. Since the King has changed your status I don't think you need to be locked in any more."

"That's true, although I haven't heard anyone say so explicitly. It's a good thought, Jenet, and thank you for having it. It'll provide just that little bit extra security."

"Good night, Mistress. I'll knock in the morning."

"I'll probably already be up doing my exercises, so the door should be unlocked. Good night, Jenet."

"The palace is probably the safest place around, surely?" Yeah, right. As the night's events begin to unfold it soon becomes clear that nobody in the palace is going to get much sleep...

Somewhere Else Entirely

by Penny Lane

8 - A Bump in the Night

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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Trivia Note: In this tale, any G that is used in a name is a hard G, as in 'girl', not a soft G as in 'gender'.

What was that?

It was only a small sound, yet it was not one of the natural sounds which a wooden building cooling down after a hot summer's day would normally be making. Garia had only fitfully been asleep in the heat, the single sheet covering her thrown to the bottom of the bed, and the slight sound had made her come awake.

There it is again. Coming from the door!

Completely awake now she rolled off the bed onto the floor and padded softly in her bare feet towards the door, her heart thumping. It was almost impossible to see in the near pitch darkness but she managed to reach the door without bumping into anything. She reached out a hand and very gently touched the handle of the big key with an outstretched finger. It moved, vibrating slightly beneath her touch.

Someone's trying to turn the key from the other side!

She looked at the floor and saw a faint square of lighter darkness at the base of the door.

A sheet of parchment, to catch the key when it falls! Someone's trying to get in!

Swiftly but silently she ran on tip-toe across to the window and carefully but quietly pulled the drapes wide. Inevitably there was some noise and she stood motionless to try and detect if those outside had heard anything. There was a period of silence which seemed to stretch for hours, and she wondered whether she had made the whole thing up in her dreams, and then the noise came again from the door.

What do I do? How do I raise the alarm? Ah! The bell pull!

She moved to the rope beside the fireplace and pulled it several times, hearing nothing.

Perhaps the bell can only be heard in the servants' room, she thought. How do I stop them till help comes?

She moved back to the door and with the slightly better light now available from outside she could see that the key, having been turned, was now slowly being pushed out of the lock. As it came free and began to fall she poked at it with a finger so that it bounced and fell away from the white square which protruded beneath the door. She thought that 'they' might look under the door, try and locate the key, so she made sure she stood to one side so that her feet weren't visible.

Take that, suckers. Wait till Jenet sees you.

There were faint noises from the other side of the door, and she though she caught very low voices at one point. The white square was withdrawn under the door. Then the sounds came again from the region of the keyhole.

Oh, shit! They have a Plan B, they have lock-picking tools. What do I do now?

She silently picked up the big key and waited a few seconds then rammed it into the lock, twisting it viciously until her hands hurt. The key made a quarter turn before jamming solid in the lock.

That was clever. Now their lock-picking tools are jammed in the lock and probably bent as well. Nobody's going to get in here that way. Where is Jenet?

She skipped silently back to the fireplace and pulled the rope again and again. There were other sounds from the door then, sounds of splintering wood.

Oh, shit, shit, shit! These bastards have a Plan C! What am I going to do now? There's nothing in here I can use as a weapon and anyway I'm likely half the size of whoever's outside. I can't let them take me! The window!

Heart pounding, she ran to the window and turned the handle. Both full height panes swung inwards and she leaned out into the warm night air. The roof tiles of the cloister which ran round the herb garden came right up to the sill of the window and she lost no time in climbing out onto the steep slope. Behind her, the sounds of rough treatment got louder. Whoever it was, they weren't going to let a little thing like a jammed lock stop them.

Which way? Left, right, down? Hurry!

In the event things were decided for her. Her feet slipped on the well-glazed tiles and she slithered down the roof to lie flat on her stomach, her fingers just still clutching the window sill. She tried to remember if there was a gutter at the bottom to arrest her flight but her fingers slipped as she tried to twist to look down. Down she slid. There was a gutter, her feet caught in it but it was too low, all it served to do was to pivot her body outwards, away from the steep roof. She sailed downwards into the gloom to land flat on her back in a bed of herbs, and then, since the tops of the shrubs were not level, rolled off to land in a heap on the gravel path with an unlady-like squeak, small stones scattering everywhere.

Winded, she stay still for a few seconds to catch her breath. Amazingly she didn't appear to have damaged very much although she had no doubt that by the morning she would be covered in bruises. Quietly she tried to pull herself into a more comfortable position without disturbing the gravel and thereby making much noise.

It was a false hope, however. As she looked up a pale oval appeared at the dark rectangle of the open window to be followed by a second. A voice came to her softly in the quiet of the night.

"There."

Realizing that her white nightdress made her plainly visible in the gloom she staggered to her feet. If she could get to one of those doors and raise the alarm! She looked up at the window. One of the figures was climbing out! She started to run, to stumble along the gravel paths away from the immediate area. The stones hurt her bare feet. If he jumped down she would have no chance.

What do I do now? There are dim lights in some of those other windows. Perhaps they are bedrooms, perhaps I can attract someone's attention. These people who are after me won't be happy if I raise a ruckus.

She bent and picked up a handful of gravel, flinging it at a window that showed a faint glow. Her first attempt didn't even reach the roof of the cloister.

Oh, no! Why couldn't I have been a proper boy right now? Girls suck at throwing!

Above her one of the figures had now climbed out onto the tiles of the roof. She spun, realizing that it might be better to try for a window on the opposite side of the garden to her own, so that when it was opened the intruder would be visible. A second handful of gravel clattered on the tiles of the cloister roof.

This is ridiculous. I'm surrounded by people and they're going to get me!

She moved closer to that side of the building and grabbed another handful of stones. This time the clattering was of a distinct texture that signified glass. Hurriedly she bent to grab another handful, her heart hammering in her chest, despair beginning to mount at the remorselessness of the chase.

I'm a girl. What a stupid time to have girl reactions. If I had been Gary maybe I would have tried to fight them off. Now, all I can think to do is run away, and that not very well.

Hey, wait a minute.

Garia suddenly realized that girls have access to a resource that no boy would ever have thought of. She filled her lungs and let out the loudest scream she could manage, then once she had recovered her breath, she threw the stones against the window she had hit before. Twisting, she discovered that the figure on the cloister roof had stopped and was now making its way back to the black square of the open window, presumably put off by her scream.

She was just gathering her breath for a second scream when a voice came from behind and above her.

"What's going on? Who's down there?"

"Intruders in the palace!" Garia shouted at the dimly-outlined figure. "Call the palace guard! Save me!"

The figure on the roof was now climbing back into the window and it seemed that the second figure was helping him. Garia didn't know if the person who had opened their own window had seen what was going on opposite but she hoped so. She backed away from that part of the garden, trying to put some distance between herself and trouble.

"Quickly!" she shouted, "They'll get away!"

It must have been at least ten seconds before she heard a high-pitched gong sounding: bing-bing-bing-bing, bing-bing-bing-bing. Very shortly after that a bell began tolling in the distance followed by at least two others. There were shouts in the distance, orders too faint for her to hear. Two of the windows above the cloister around the herb garden now showed brighter lights, perhaps indicating that the occupants had woken up and were preparing to rise.

Suppose they come downstairs and try to take me? They know I'm in the herb garden. What do I do now?

Who do I trust?

In almost a full panic now, she twisted and turned, trying to see if anyone was coming out of any of the doors she knew must open onto this garden. Trouble was, she couldn't distinguish anything under the cloister since it was so dark.

She heard a door flung open at one end of the garden, away from her. She couldn't see anything at all of the man or men who emerged.

"Mistress? What's happened?"

"Intruders! In the palace! They broke into my room! Stop them getting away!"

A group of men spilled out onto the gravel paths between the herb beds, spreading out and starting to approach her. One of the men gave orders, but in the darkness it was difficult to tell what effect they had. At one side she heard another door being opened and turned to see more men emerging, flaring lanterns held high.

Who do I trust?

She began to back away from them, retreating under the cloister, hoping that there wasn't a door behind her, stopping when she felt the plaster of the wall at her back. The sick feeling that she had felt a morning or two ago came back and she began to shiver in the night air. The two groups of men coalesced in the gloom, muttering words too low to distinguish. They began to approach, lanterns held high.

"Stay away from me!" she screamed at them.

"Mistress?"

"Stay away from me!" she repeated loudly. "I don't know that I can trust any of you!"

"Mistress?" the speaker repeated. "I don't understand. Let us help you."

"There were intruders who broke into my bedroom," Garia said to the indistinct figures in front of her, "I don't know who they were but they had the run of the palace. How do I know that you're not connected to them? I don't know many people in the palace, I can't trust people I don't know."

"You wrong me, Mistress," the speaker replied. "I have given an oath to the King to protect him and those in his palace, but in the darkness I grant you cannot know who faces you." The man turned and snapped out orders to those surrounding him. Some turned and faced away, others ran back to the open doors and vanished within the building. The man faced Garia again.

"Who will you trust, Mistress? Let us fetch a familiar face for you. How did you enter the garden, Mistress?"

There was only one face that immediately sprang to mind and she said his name without any thought whatsoever. "Prince Keren." She added, "The King and Queen. My maid Jenet. I was in the Lilac Chamber, up there."

The man spun on his heel and looked up at the darkened open window. Other windows were open now, light from within silhouetting the roused and curious occupants.

"You jumped from up there, Mistress? I am impressed by your courage."

He snapped out some more orders and two men left the group and headed for the doorways. In the flickering light she could see the glint of naked steel but she still didn't feel safe at all. Supposing all this was subterfuge, a tableau designed to lull the suspicions of those onlookers in the windows above?

Shortly another door was flung open and several figures pushed their way through the group surrounding Garia. As soon as one of them approached closely enough to be identifiable in the inadequate lamplight she recognized Keren and launched herself at him, all thoughts of propriety or protocol forgotten.

"Garia? What on Anmar is going on? How did you get into the garden?"

Keren clasped her shivering body into his arms. He was still dressed in his nightshirt but had pulled on sandals and wrapped himself in a cloak. Although the adrenaline still thundered through her veins the high had abruptly passed with the Prince's appearance and she started to feel both cold and tired. She recognized the onset of shock but this was now tempered by the realization that she had just wrapped herself around the heir to the throne. She wasn't about to let go just yet, however.

"Men," she gasped. "Broke into my room. Tried to get the key, then to pick the lock. Then they broke the door open by force. I climbed out the window, fell onto the ground. One of them climbed out the window after me."

"Maker! You're cold and clammy." He turned his head to the gathering group. "A cloak, please. Mistress Garia is cold."

One of the surrounding figures whipped off a short cloak and handed it to Keren, who took it and insisted that Garia wrapped herself in it before putting his arms around her again, his cloak enfolding both of them. Keren addressed the group of men.

"Has anyone been sent to check the Lilac Chamber? Have the palace grounds been sealed?"

"Aye, Highness, to both questions. We were unsure what the alarm was about, so we took all the actions we could. If I can ask a question of the Mistress, Highness?"

"If she feels capable of answering."

Garia, now wrapped warmly but still in the prince's arms, nodded in such a way that he felt her head movements.

"Ask, Captain."

"How many were there, Mistress? Did you see what he or they looked like?"

"At least two," she replied. "I didn't see them, it was too dark, but I think they both wore dark clothes. One of them climbed out onto the roof, I could only see his pale face in the starlight."

"You heard that, Captain?"

"Aye, Highness."

"Let's get the mistress inside, she's getting cold."

Another voice intruded, one that no-one could mistake. Men moved respectfully aside for a new arrival.

"What's going on here?"

"Father, Mistress Garia has had intruders in her chamber. She climbed out of the window to escape them."

"Truly? Impressive." King Robanar moved into the light from a nearby lantern, his face still stiff with sleep but his eyes alert. "Captain?"

"Sire. We have roused the guard. The grounds have been sealed and a search started."

A man entered the garden at a run, stopped before the captain and banged his breast with a fist.

"Sir! The door to the Lilac Chamber is open, the door itself is mostly undamaged but the frame is completely splintered. It looks as if a heavy bar was used to force the lock."

"Has the room been searched?" the captain asked.

"Aye, sir, no sign of anyone. No other sign of disturbance, the window is of course open."

"Jenet!" Garia said. "I pulled the rope several times, no-one came. What about my maid?"

"Where would she be?" asked Keren. "In the servant's room at the end of the corridor?"

"I assume so. I was hoping that if someone came it would put off the intruders, but nothing happened when I pulled the rope."

"Check the servants' room," the captain ordered the man.

"Sir!" the man responded before running back into the building.

Robanar spoke. "Let's get Mistress Garia inside and safe. We'll go to my parlor. Captain, come with us, lead the way with your men. I want every door we pass checked, every intersection cleared beforehand, understand?"

"Sire!"

Keren began to lead the way towards a doorway and the group of men, apparently members of the Palace Guard, surrounded Robanar, Keren and Garia with drawn swords. Keren kept his arm firmly around Garia as they walked along the cloister and into the building. Progress was slow as every door had either to be confirmed locked or the room beyond checked and cleared. After a short while Keren leaned down and whispered in Garia's ear.

"You smell funny," he said.

Funny? What does he mean by that? Is it the smell of fear? I hope not. What a lame business! Running away like that. Guess this body knows what's the best course of action better than I do. What can a half-pint girl do against two full-grown men? What did I do anyway? Climbed out a window, slid off a roof, fell into a... of course.

"I fell into a bed of herbs," she replied. "Broke my fall. It must be that you can smell."

"It's unusual," he replied. "Makes you smell nice, though."

Eventually they all arrived at the parlor, a welcoming glow from lanterns and candles after the dimly-lit corridors with Queen Terys waiting for them in a state of agitation.

"Maker! Whatever has happened to you, dear, you look as though you've been dragged in the dirt! Come and sit down over here, Keren, you as well. I've sent Kenila off to heat up some water for pel. Robanar, how did the girl end up in this state?"

"Someone tried to get into her chamber, my dear. Mistress Garia climbed out of the window and jumped into the herb garden to get away from them, it seems."

"Goodness!" Terys turned to a waiting maid. "Varna, run and find a robe for the mistress, if you please. We must try and get her warmed up, I can see her shivering from here! She has bare feet! Bring some warm slippers as well." She looked closely at Garia's nightdress. "Why look, there's blood on your nightdress."

Garia looked and saw smudges of blood at about knee level.

"I slid down the roof..."

"Varna, once you've brought those things go off and rouse a healer, will you? We must get the mistress looked at."

Meanwhile, Keren and Robanar were looking significantly at one another. Keren finally spoke.

"Yod."

"We have no proof," Robanar objected. "And whether true or not, there's very little we can do about it."

Keren shrugged. "No, but we can be reasonably sure it was them. They turned up unexpectedly yesterday, they went out of their way to interest themselves in Garia, didn't they?"

A man appeared at the open doorway of the parlor and the captain went to receive his report. Garia finally noticed that all the men were dressed similarly but not so much that she would have identified a uniform at first glance. All the men had been clothed much as Tanon's men had, a tunic and jerkin over tights, but the colors of the palace men were all very similar, a sort of brown-rust shade. Each wore a pale blue sash around his waist, presumably identifying him as one of the guards. The captain also had a sash that went over the left shoulder and was tied to his belt at the right hip. He turned to the King.

"Sire, my man has found the servants apparently asleep, but none of them can be wakened. They may have been drugged or poisoned."

There was a gasp from Terys. Robanar gave a start and turned to Garia.

"Mistress, it seems that I underestimated your worth and others did not. I must apologize if I have by negligence placed you in danger."

Garia shook her head, overwhelmed by the pace of events. "What worth? I'm just a lost stranger from somewhere else entirely. What possible interest could anyone have in me?"

"You undervalue yourself, Mistress," Keren said. "I think what they are after is what's in your head. At the moment, you might be the most important person on Anmar."

Robanar turned to the captain. "Rouse healers, send them to the servants' room and see if there is anything that can be done for them." He addressed the guardsman. "Did you notice whether all servants were present who were supposed to be? No empty beds, for example?"

"No, Sire, I did not," the man replied. "There were empty beds, but as I have no knowledge of who was supposed to be sleeping there I couldn't say if the right number of people were there."

Robanar grunted. "Very well, we'll find out soon enough."

Garia was furiously thinking. Am I really that important? Well, yes, I suppose I have to admit that I might be. I have three hundred years of technology I could give them, haven't I? Even if I can't give them explicit instructions on how to build certain things the mere fact that I can describe such machines may offer sufficient clues to allow some clever person to construct them. Her blood ran cold. And now everybody is fighting over me. Mess? I didn't know the meaning of the word. A stray thought came. I bet Morlan would be pointing his finger and saying 'I told you so'. Or perhaps...

"Master Morlan," she said into the momentary silence.

"I expect he's still asleep, Mistress," the captain answered her. "He doesn't normally waken when the alarm bells ring, or if he does he ignores them. Sometimes he takes a bit of shifting when there's a real problem. Why do you ask?"

Keren was looking at Robanar again.

"Send a squad to find Morlan," Robanar instructed the captain. "Get him up and bring him here, please. We have need of his wisdom."

"As you command, Sire."

Another maid came into the room bearing a tray with several cups and what looked suspiciously like a teapot.

"Ah, good, the pel," Terys said. "Kenila, would you pour, please. The first one goes to Mistress Garia here, she's had an awful fright tonight."

Garia wrapped her shaking hands around the warm cup, letting the heat from the liquid seep into her icy fingers. The night wasn't cold, she knew, it was the shock reaction to her body. She took a sip, letting the hot drink trickle slowly down her throat. The maid Kenila handed the next cup to Keren, sitting close beside her on the sofa. Somehow she just knew that Keren wasn't going to move from her side until he was forced to, and for some strange reason she preferred it that way.

The other maid came back with a robe and slippers, helping Garia to slip the robe on and wrap it, then tut-tutting at the filthy state of her feet as she helped her put the slippers on. Garia sat down again, accepting her cup from Keren.

"Do you feel able to tell us the story, Mistress?" Robanar asked.

"Of course, Sire."

Garia described the whole incident from the start as much as she was able to given the circumstances. The King, Keren and the captain of the guard all asked questions at various points to clarify matters. She finished with Keren's arrival, explaining to the captain for his benefit her thought processes and apologizing to him for not trusting him in the herb garden.

"Mistress," he replied, "now that you have explained this to me I cannot say that you ought to have done any differently. In the darkness, surrounded by a group of armed men you could not recognize, your reaction is understandable. I am impressed by your actions, Mistress. I cannot think of another woman who might have done what you did this night."

"Indeed," Robanar rumbled, "Mistress Garia is an exceptional person, Captain Merek. While I can't reveal very much more, I can let you know that she is in possession of important information which many of the countries surrounding Palarand would risk much to obtain. As happened this night. Her well-being and safety is important to Palarand, you must treat her as you might treat myself, is that clear?"

"Aye, Sire!" The captain banged his breast with a fist.

"Sire." Two men had appeared in the doorway, one of them a guardsman and the other a confused-looking older man in a nightshirt. The guardsman addressed his captain.

"Sir, the chambers of Master Morlan are empty, with the exception of his manservant Jareven here. I thought it best to bring him so that you could question him yourself."

The King stood and with cup in hand walked to the door, taking over the questioning.

"Jareven, we desired to speak to Morlan, urgently. You heard the alarm bells?"

"Sire," the man stammered. "I did. Master Morlan went out after the State reception, he asked me to order a carriage to take him to Master Gerdas's residence. He did not say as much, but since Master Gerdas is the Royal Astronomer I reasoned that my master would not return until this coming morning."

"Did he give any particular reason for his visit, do you know?"

"No, Sire, he did not. It is not unusual, as you know, for my master to visit others of the Society of Questors in the evenings, and he has stayed overnight with Master Gerdas a number of times in the past. Sire, if I may ask, what has happened?"

"There have been intruders in the palace," Robanar said shortly. "They attempted to break into a guest's chamber."

Jareven looked shocked. "In the palace, Sire?"

"Aye," Robanar replied. "We believe there are at least two of them still at large. I suggest that you return to your rooms with an escort and that you lock yourself in until morning."

The manservant looked visibly shaken. "Aye, Sire."

"Sire," Garia put in, "before he goes, can I ask him, was Master Morlan carrying anything when he went out this evening?"

Jareven looked blankly at her. "No, Mistress, I did not see him take any bag or package with him, if that's what you mean. Of course he may have had documents or small items tucked away within his clothing."

Garia bowed her head in acknowledgment. "Thank you."

The manservant departed and Garia took another sip from her cup of pel.

Keren asked her quietly, "What are you thinking? What might Morlan have taken with him?"

"I'm not sure," she replied, "I don't really know the man or anything about this Society of Questors, after all. It occurred to me that if he had gone to this Astronomer, what was his name?"

"Gerdas."

"If he had been going there, he might have taken a telescope. I'm assuming that he has one. After this morning I felt sure that he might want to check the truth of what I told him, and a telescope would be one way of doing that."

The captain broke in. "A telescope, Mistress? Master Morlan spoke to you of such matters?"

Garia remembered belatedly that telescopes were supposed to be a secret. Robanar rescued her.

"He did not, Captain, I fancy rather it was the other way around. I did tell you that Mistress Garia held important information. He did not tell her anything she did not already know."

Merek's face switched from Robanar to Garia at this revelation and then back again, as though he could hardly believe what he was hearing. After all, wasn't Master Morlan the Royal Questor? So if Mistress Garia knew more than Master Morlan, what did that make her? His face paled and he took a step backwards into the doorway.

"I'll ask no more questions, Sire," he said, stiffening to attention.

"Your service to Palarand has been faultless, Captain," Robanar said. "I would be more concerned if you did not question when you thought it necessary."

A woman arrived and pushed her way past the captain. She was dressed in the inevitable nightdress but had a fluffy robe over it. In one hand she carried a wicker basket full of bandages and small bottles.

"Sire, I understand there is need of a healer here."

"Aye, Margra, come in. See to the mistress there beside Keren. She has had an adventure tonight and her legs may need attention."

She approached Garia and knelt in front of her.

"With your permission, Mistress?"

She lifted Garia's nightdress by the hem and pulled it up exposing her knees.

"Ah, she has just scraped the skin, Sire," she reported. "Nothing worse than that. I shall clean them, put some ointment on them and bandage them to protect them. She is young, the skin should heal within a week or so."

One of the maids produced a bowl of hot water and the healer used a dampened cloth to clean the dirt from Garia's grazes. An ointment was spread on her knees and then her legs were gently wrapped with bandages, the healer explaining that this was more to stop the ointment getting everywhere than for any other reason. Margra curtseyed to the King and Queen and left.

Garia drained her cup and handed it back to the maid. She estimated that it might be around three or four in the morning by now, Earth reckoning, and she noticed that her body was slowly shutting itself back down into sleep. She absent-mindedly snuggled up to Keren, putting her head on his shoulder, a movement that did not go un-noticed by Terys.

"She needs to be in her bed, like the rest of us," she said to Robanar. "Where shall she go? The door of her own chamber is broken, she cannot sleep there."

"I wouldn't consider it safe in any case, dear. Can we use one of the girls' rooms, do you think? I'd rather have her close to hand until we can make sure we know just what's going on."

"An excellent idea. It will have to be Elizet's old suite, Malann's still has carpenters working."

"Mistress Garia," Robanar asked her, "would you like to come? We have a bed for you nearby."

"Hmm?" Garia was already half asleep, the adrenaline which had kept her going finally drained away. "Oh, yes. Sire." She tried to raise her head.

"Keren, can you carry her that far?"

"To Elizet's room?" Keren thought briefly. "Aye, Father, it is not so far and she is light enough."

"You two," Robanar pointed to the maids, "run along to Elizet's suite and prepare the bed. Once we have Mistress Garia settled you can go and help the Queen into hers. I'll be a while yet, we still have intruders to catch."

Keren stood and lifted Garia into his arms. At first her light weight was completely lax but then she worked out where she was and put her arms around his neck. Keren walked out of the parlor in the wake of the maids, Queen Terys following closely afterwards. It was a short journey that involved several corridors and a staircase.

Garia felt a strange warm feeling wash over her sleeping body, unlike anything she had ever felt before or since her transfer to this strange world. It was a feeling of comfort, safety, security, a state of being that Gary could not have recognized back in Kansas. Her grip on Keren tightened.

"Comfortable?"

"Yes, Your Highness," she murmured sleepily. "I hope you don't think I'm taking advantage of you."

"I thought it would be the other way round," he replied.

By the time they arrived at the bedroom the two maids had cleared the bed and were busy pulling dust covers from the other furnishings in the room. Keren laid Garia gently on the bed and Terys pulled the light cover up over her. In seconds she was asleep.

~o~O~o~

Like most dreams this one made no sense at all. She couldn't work out where she was. It seemed as if she was in an immense darkened hall, then perhaps it wasn't a hall at all but a huge void of some strange sort. There were others there, vaguely visible, immense multi-dimensional beings, doing inscrutable things. It occurred to her that she might also be one of these huge beings but she was merely an observer of the conversation that was taking place between two of these... things.

First Speaker: There is an anomaly.

Second Speaker: Yes.

First: A serious deviation from the projected event sequence. Some calculation has not been made correctly.

Second: What remedial action must be taken to restore balance?

First: None.

Second: ?

First: To clarify, not yet. The projections based upon the current circumstances predict an outcome significantly better than the original proposal. So much better that we wonder if a basic factor has been overlooked.

Second: We observe, then, and report.

First: Yes.

Second: Meanwhile?

First: Meanwhile, a search will be made for the source of the anomaly. If some basic factor has eluded us, we must identify and analyze it.

Second: Do we have time?

First: Yes. Centuries.

Garia slept.

The morning after the abduction attempt finds the palace and its staff still suffering from the effects of a disturbed night. Queen Terys tries to make sure that Garia has a quiet day but is only partially successful when Master Gerdas makes an appearance, and the questions about Morlan continue to mount.

Somewhere Else Entirely

by Penny Lane

9 - Conversations with the Queen

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.

---

The noise was very faint but unlike the previous night this noise was familiar so that it didn't immediately awaken her. Her mind merely integrated it into the usual wild and bizarre dreams it constructs as the brain swims towards consciousness. At some point, though, logic intervened.

Knitting, that's Gran knitting. I wonder what she's making this time?

Waaait a moment. Gran's dead, isn't she? Who's making that noise, then?

She struggled up into wakefulness. Her eyes opened and for a moment she was totally confused by what she saw. Memory returned, then, and she became merely somewhat confused.

Where am I? This isn't the Lilac Chamber. I must be... huh?

She moved and two heads came into view. One immediately left, the other leaned forward and spoke.

"Mistress?"

"Unh? Who are you?"

"Varna, Mistress, one of Queen Terys's maids."

"Huh? Oh, yes. Of course."

Garia tried unsuccessfully to sit up. Varna helped her and then plumped the pillow behind her. The room she was in was a little bigger than the Lilac Chamber had been but made that room look plain. This one had richer furnishings and more opulent furniture and the decoration of the room had a distinctly feminine bias to it. The inside surface of the heavy drapes looked like silk. These had been drawn open and Garia could see that it was another fine day, more importantly the view and the light told her that a goodly portion of the morning had already passed.

"Oh! I must get up or I'll miss breakfast!"

"Don't worry about that, my dear," Terys said as she came through a door at the opposite end of the room followed by Kenila, her other maid. "Good morning, Garia. We thought that you would need your sleep after last night so we left you to it. Now you're awake we'll ask the kitchens to send something up, you can break your fast with me in the sitting-room there."

"But, Your Majesty, what -" Garia broke off. Obviously today would not be happening according to the routine of previous days.

"We've all slept late this morning," Terys explained. "The King is still asleep, I'm afraid. He stayed up until well after daybreak."

"Did they manage to find anybody?"

Terys shook her head. "Not that I'm aware of. I only awoke after Robanar had fallen asleep and I didn't want to disturb him. I'm afraid he's not as youthful as he once was and he's beginning to find these night escapades a little tiring. Captain Merek will be in his bed as well, I expect. Don't worry, though, dear, everything will be well in hand."

"Yes, Ma'am. Oh! I'm still wearing that filthy nightdress I had on last night. I'd better get up and have a bath before I eat." Garia looked at Terys with a question in her eyes.

"Yes, of course, dear. The bathroom is just behind you, on that side," she pointed at a door by the side of the bed. "By the time you're clean and fresh your breakfast will be ready. Can I leave you with one of my maids?"

"Of course, Ma'am."

En-suite facilities. Yeah, well, they were Princesses, weren't they?

Garia swung her feet down to the floor.

"Ah! Ma'am?"

Terys turned from the doorway. "Yes, Garia?"

"All my clothes are still in the Lilac Chamber, Ma'am. Will I have to go there and get dressed after breakfast? What is going to happen to me, if the door is damaged. I wouldn't have thought that I could still use that room."

"You'll be staying in this suite for the time being, dear," Terys explained. "The King thought it best that you were somewhere safe and I fully agree with him. These suites belonged to our daughters Elizet and Malann and aren't used very much at all now they have homes of their own, so you are welcome to remain here. Your clothes will be brought some time today, I expect, once the palace settles down. The Palace Guard are still conducting searches though I suspect they aren't going to find anyone now."

Garia gulped and then curtseyed. "Thank you very much, Ma'am. This is... unexpected."

Terys gave Garia a warm smile. "Your arrival here was unexpected, my dear. We have to accommodate the changes you bring with you. Now, go and get in the bath."

"As you command, Ma'am."

Garia went into the tiled room next door and Varna helped her take off the nightdress.

"Oh! Bandages. They'll have to come off as well."

The sunken tub was a little smaller than the communal one she had used when she was in the Lilac Chamber but it would still have been big enough to accommodate eight people. She felt a little embarrassed climbing in by herself, it seemed such a waste of hot water. Varna started stripping off her dress.

"No! Don't do that, Varna," Garia protested. "I'm quite capable of washing myself, thank you, there's no need to get yourself wet as well just on my account." She thought, then. "Unless you haven't yet washed yourself today?"

Varna, a girl only a little older than Garia herself, blushed. "I have, Mistress, and thank you for thinking of me. It would be no trouble for me, though. If you're sure?"

"I am, Varna. You can hand me the soap and get ready to dive in if I look like drowning." They both giggled.

"Mistress!" Varna said as Garia was rinsing herself off. "You have a nasty mark under your arm, the left one."

Garia looked and found a huge bruise angling diagonally across the underside of her upper arm.

"It's a bruise I got last night, I expect. I seem to remember I did fall off a roof."

"You're very brave, Mistress. I think I would have frozen with fright if men tried to get into my bedroom."

"Yes, well, perhaps I would too under other circumstances," Garia said, "but I fancy those particular men were trying to kidnap me, and I didn't especially wish to be kidnapped." Varna's eyes became very round. "It's a long story. I guess you'd better check me over once I get out, see if there are any other bruises on me."

There was another big bruise on the back of her right calf. Garia decided that those portions of her anatomy had struck the stone edging of the raised herb bed when she fell into it. Both stung to the touch and were beginning to turn green round the edges. There were a few other very minor bumps and scrapes including the ones on her knees. Garia thought that they looked all right and decided that they would all probably be better left to the air rather than covered with gloop and bandaged.

With a fluffy robe wrapped round her Varna led her through the bedroom and into the sitting-room beyond. Terys was waiting for them, seated in front of a table set for breakfast for two. She was knitting. Also sitting waiting in a nightshirt and robe was Keren.

"Good morning, Your Highness," Garia greeted him. She then looked quizzically between Terys and Keren.

"Don't worry about me, dear," Terys said. "I've already eaten. Keren had a lie-in this morning as well, it seemed silly for you each to eat separately in your own rooms. Sit down, please."

Garia sat and discovered that she was hungry. They both set about the food which had been sent up from the kitchen, Keren eating the most of it.

"Do you know any more about what happened last night?" she asked him. "I mean, after I fell asleep?"

Keren answered with a smile, "In my arms, you mean?"

Garia blushed. "I didn't, did I? I do know I got very tired and had a job keeping my eyes open," she said. "I don't remember anything much after that."

He grinned. "I had to carry you up the stairs and into here," he explained. "I think you were well out of it by the time I put you in the bed."

"Oh, no," she said with a smile. "My reputation is completely shot, isn't it?"

"Nothing happened, Mistress, there were at least six other people in the room with me."

"You don't have to call me 'Mistress' in here, do you?" she asked tentatively. "You called me 'Garia' yesterday evening."

"It's true, I did call you that, but that was for public consumption. Rather, for the specific consumption of those from Yod. However, I would consider it an honor to call you by your given name within this part of the palace. You understand, of course, that proprieties must be kept whenever we are together in public. Mother?"

"She is a very personable young woman," Terys said over the clicking of the needles, "and she's now, temporarily at least, part of the family. I have no objection and I can't see that the King would either. Call each other what you wish, my dears."

"To answer your original question... Garia," Keren said, "no, I know little more. There was a lot of rushing about and opening up rooms and so forth. I don't imagine much useful was achieved." His brow furrowed. "I think I'll discuss that with Father when he's up again. There must be a plan for searching the palace properly but I don't know it's ever been done that I can remember." He chewed a mouthful of food then asked, "How's your body this morning? I know you scraped your knees, any other injuries?"

"I got this," she pulled her left sleeve up and raised her arm to show him the bruise, "and there's another on my right leg, a couple of other minor scrapes and bruises. Nothing that a few days fresh air and healthy living won't cure. I'm lucky I fell into that bed of herbs, I could have broken something if I'd missed."

They finished eating and the two maids began clearing the plates, leaving them each with cups of pel.

"Tell me about Yod, then," she asked. "Who are they and what makes them upset everyone?"

"Hmm. Yod is the name of a state up-river. They are somewhat aggressive and forever fighting with their neighbors over something or another. They consider that the people of Yod are better than those of other Valley states, in fact better than anyone else in all Alaesia." His face showed something between irritation and disgust. "That's why they call themselves the Ascendancy, to show they are ascendant over the rest of the Valley states. Really, they're no better than any of the other Kingdoms, Duchies, Principalities or what-have-you in the region. They just act as though they're superior."

"Oh. Yes, I could see how that might be, from the way they behaved yesterday evening. You thought Yod was behind the intruders."

"Aye. As I said then, what's in your head could be extremely valuable. Imagine that knowledge in the hands of a state who would stop at nothing to subjugate other states."

Garia nodded. "Yes, I get that. There are or were countries on Earth who had ideas like that. Unfortunately, some of them took a lot of stopping. Well, I've already told the King that I'm throwing my lot in with Palarand so you've nothing to worry about on my account." She paused. "If I were kidnapped, though, the situation could get very unpleasant." She gave Keren a meaningful look. "I think I'm going to have to start doing some of my martial arts exercises, start finding out what the condition of my new body is, see if there are ways of defending myself."

"Mistress?" Keren was surprised by this statement as was the Queen. "What can a woman do? Women don't fight."

"Not on your world, perhaps. They certainly can on mine, with appropriate training."

Terys stopped knitting and looked at Garia with alarm.

Garia tried to explain. "Ma'am, I would guess that most women on my world are very much like women here. It's just that there are ways and means of teaching women to defend themselves which I might be able to use. On my world there are women soldiers as well. Nowhere near as many as there are men soldiers, of course, but they do exist."

"I find that almost unbelievable," Terys said.

"Trust me, Ma'am, wars on my world are more bloody and destructive than you could ever imagine. When someone's whole way of life is at stake, they will do anything at all to preserve it."

"That I can believe," Keren said. "But, women fighting? That's incredible. What are your men doing all this time? That's what a man's for, to look after the women."

"There weren't any men in my chamber last night, were there?" she responded. "If there had been, the situation might have turned out different, but there weren't so out the window I went."

"Garia," Keren said earnestly, "I think we need to talk, us three and the King, about some of these matters you've hinted at. I feel we are as much in the dark here about what might be possible as you said you were yesterday evening about Palarand and such matters. Some of the things you are telling us are, frankly, terrifying."

"I know. Don't think I don't. I have some seriously difficult decisions to make."

"I can imagine. Now, if you'll excuse me," Keren said, rising from the table, "I'd better go and do some exercises of my own or I'll start getting stiff. I can also find out what's happening around the palace. Until lunch then, Mother, Garia." He bowed and strode off out of a door at the back of the sitting room.

"Come and sit by me, dear," Terys said after Keren had gone. "I've strict instructions that you aren't to get involved in anything today, the last few days can't have been very good for you, can they? A day or two relaxing will do you the world of good."

"Yes, Ma'am. It's not as if I can go far dressed like this anyway, is it?" Garia flapped the hem of her wrap-round fluffy robe as she changed seats. "It was quite a night, wasn't it?"

Terys sighed. "We had something like this before, many years back. Robanar hadn't been King long, I recall. There was a lot of running around and shouting one night." She paused to reflect. "I don't remember if it was Yod behind that one or another state." She glanced at Garia before returning her attention to her knitting. "Things are a lot quieter these days than they used to be. Most of the Valley states know that they do much better co-operating with one another than by arguing."

"I'm glad that's so, Ma'am. Although, I'm sorry, I have to come along and be the cause of fresh trouble." She had a thought. "Speaking of which, what's the latest news about Morlan? Has he been found yet, do you know?"

Terys shook her head. "Not that I know of. I expect we'll get a report by Captain Bleskin -" she made an aside to Garia, "- he's the Captain of the Guard for the daytime at the moment, he'll report just before lunch."

"Oh! And I'm forgetting Jenet, of course."

"The last I heard Jenet and the other servants in that room were all still asleep. We'll be told if there's any change." Terys gave Garia a reassuring smile. "The healers know what they're doing, leave it to them. Perhaps later, when you've something to wear, we can go and visit, see what's happening."

Garia nodded. "Yes, Ma'am, I'd like that. Anything that's been done to those servants is because of me, I feel some responsibility for what happened."

"The thought does you credit, my dear," Terys said as she started knitting again. "That's settled, then. I'll get one of my girls to go and fetch some of your day gowns as soon as they finish disposing of the breakfast things, that way you can choose something to wear today, the rest of your clothes I'll arrange for Yolda to bring over here to your new chambers later on."

"My new chambers. Ma'am, what did you mean before when you said I was temporarily part of the family?"

"Why, just that, child. Legally you're a minor, so technically you've been adopted, I suppose." She gave Garia another reassuring smile. "Don't worry over that, dear. Robanar said that you would be free to leave whenever you wished and we'll abide by that. It's just a means by which we can protect you properly while you're here. It also means that you have extra rights and privileges granted which should ease your residence in the palace."

Terys pushed her pins through the wool ball and placed the knitting down on a small side table. "Now, dear, why don't you tell me something of your own family? Your father, your mother, they must be on your mind, surely? Do you have any brothers or sisters? Tell me about the place you lived in."

Garia sighed. "It's true, I haven't really had much time till now to let everything sink in properly," she said. "I can't tell you about what they were doing when I left because I can't remember what was happening before I came here. My Mom? She's about the same size and build as Kenila there, I suppose. Her hair is much lighter brown, though, and she has blue eyes. I'm sorry, I'd have to work out how old she is in your years but I'd guess she must be about the same age as you or a little younger. Dad? I don't know, it's difficult comparing someone you've known all your life to others, isn't it? Looks a bit like Captain Merek, I suppose, only nowhere near as fit and with less hair, most of it gray."

"Were they good parents?"

"Oh, yes! Mom's great, she can cook really well. We get a lot of home cooking in our house."

"Home cooking? What other kind is there?"

Garia had to go off into a dissertation about processed food, fast food, take-aways and restaurants, some of which fascinated and appalled Terys in equal measure.

"And your home? Where did you live?"

"Over the shop, to start with." To Terys's unspoken query, "The bookshop, which is in one of the smaller shopping streets. I remember playing in the shop when I was very little. I grew up reading the children's books, although I had to be very careful not to soil or damage them. There was time when money got very tight, Mom had to go back to work, I had to go stay with a child-minder and I didn't like that. Later on we moved to a new house so I had more room to grow up in. That was better, it's a nice area and I've a few good friends who live nearby. The schools are quite close as well so it's easy to get around on foot or by bike."

Terys ignored the strange words. "You have brothers or sisters?"

"No, Ma'am, I'm an only child." Garia frowned. "When I was born it was a difficult birth, I was lying the wrong way round or the cord got tangled up or something. They had to do an emergency caesarian and Mom couldn't have any more children after that."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. I always say that it's better if a child has a brother or sister to keep them company but sometimes these things happen. What was that 'emergency something' you mentioned?"

"Ah, it involves cutting the child out of the womb. It can be a dangerous operation but it's done often enough these days that very few mothers die of it."

"Cutting?" Terys shuddered. "That sounds barbaric."

Garia had to go off into an explanation of medical matters including doctors, hospitals, anesthetic and medical care including antiseptic measures. Terys revised her first reaction and decided that Garia's society was not so barbaric after all.

"Your mother works, you said earlier."

"Yes, she's an elementary school supply teacher."

This triggered off another explanation about the schooling arrangements in Kansas and what a supply teacher did. During this Varna brought in a mid-morning tray of pel and small pastry nibbles and shortly afterwards Kenila returned with an armful of gowns.

"Would you like to get dressed now, dear, or carry on talking and dress before lunch?"

Garia decided to get dressed so they adjourned to the bedroom.

"Oh, I liked that one!" Terys said, fondling a pale pink gown. "It seems like only yesterday that Elizet was skipping through the corridors wearing it! What shall you choose, dear?"

"Um, I really haven't got an eye for what I might want to wear yet," Garia replied. "I think, actually, I'll choose this one here as it's got slightly longer sleeves which will cover up the bruise on my arm." She held up a dress that on Earth might have been made from cream linen, with dark blue trim round the neck, sleeves and hem. She turned to Terys.

"Ma'am, you have to remember that a week ago I was a boy on another world, and my world doesn't include boys or men wearing things like these." Well, not so's you'd notice. Garia swept her free hand over the gowns on the bed. "Boys generally don't care too much what they wear so long as it more or less fits and doesn't offend anyone." She gave Terys a sidelong glance. "Unless the boy intended to offend someone, of course. I know I'm not a boy here and I have to learn how to do things the way a girl would do them but it's going to take me some time."

"I understand, my dear. I hope you won't take it amiss if I offer to take you through the mysteries of womanhood, teach you what you need to know, show you what I showed my daughters? Be a stand-in for your own mother, who is now so far away?"

"I think that I might like that, Ma'am. But," Garia emphasized, "you mustn't make the same mistake Morlan did. Inside this girl's head is a boy's mind which grew up in a society totally different than your own. You might not find the job so easy as you did with your own daughters." Garia considered. "I might find the whole thing tremendously embarrassing. We'll have to see."

Once dressed they returned to the sitting room and continued talking. As they chatted Garia could hear bells in the distance marking out the time but she had no idea what they meant. After one particular time check the sitting room door opened and Robanar walked in.

"Ah! Here you are, dear! I guessed you might be with the cause of our latest trouble."

Garia shot to her feet and gave a curtsey while Terys rose more slowly and went to Robanar to receive a hug and a kiss.

"Are you refreshed, dearest?" Terys asked him.

"Yes, thank you, my dear." He turned to Garia. "What about you, Mistress, after last night? Recovered from your adventure?"

"Yes, Sire, thank you, I have," she replied. "I have one or two bruises, nothing serious."

"Have you eaten?" Terys asked him. "I can get the kitchen to -"

"I'm all right, dear, I ate before I retired this morning and lunch will be shortly in any case. Is that a fresh pot of pel?"

"Not that fresh, but you can try it. Kenila, another cup for the King."

Robanar found a seat and stretched a hand out for one of the remaining pastries.

"Sire, I'm sorry, the pel is all gone," Kenila reported.

Robanar waved a hand. "No matter, lunch will be soon enough. What have you two been up to, my dear?"

"Getting Garia settled in her new quarters and she was telling me a little about her family before you arrived. Most interesting."

"Ah? I'm sure you'll tell me if there's anything I need to know."

They continued with small talk while they waited for the lunch bell to sound. Before that happened, however, a knock came at the door and a Palace Guardsman poked his head around it.

"Sire? Good, they told me you would be in one of the suites." He came in and Garia could see that he was another captain who was much older than Captain Merek. He stood to attention and banged his fist on his chest.

"Sire. We have concluded the sweep of the palace and grounds. Regrettably we did not find anything. This is the young mistress who reported the intruders?" He indicated Garia.

"Yes, she is, Captain."

"Mistress, I must be sure, you did encounter intruders? This wasn't just a bad dream, was it? We haven't found anything to show that such persons existed."

"Apart, Captain," Robanar growled, "from the splintered wood of her chamber door, that is. How do you propose she did that in her sleep?"

The man reddened. "Uh, Sire, I apologize. I quite forgot the primary evidence. Mistress, please forgive me."

"Captain, you weren't there," Garia said. "I can quite understand that you might think this all a dream." She raised her left arm and pulled back the sleeve. "This is no dream, I assure you."

"Bleskin," Robanar said, "I'll let you off this time, but you'll have to be much sharper in the future. Didn't Merek give you a report before he retired? Two men attempted to abduct Mistress Garia in the night which is why she has been moved to quarters here. There is more than a suspicion that the abductors were from or on behalf of Yod." The captain went as white as a sheet. "Treat her person as you would my own or the Queen's, understand?"

"Aye, Sire!"

"Have you done everything else I asked for?"

"Sire. Messengers were sent out to all toll posts and ferries as soon as there was enough light. The City Guard has been warned and I sent a detachment to Master Gerdas's residence to fetch back all they found there. Those people are waiting in a room at the front of the palace, Sire."

"Was Master Morlan with them?"

"No, Sire. Master Gerdas, his manservant, a scribe, his cook and a boy, Sire. That was all. We searched his residence thoroughly."

"Bid Master Gerdas take lunch with us. See that the rest get fed decently once lunch is announced but make sure that none of them leaves the room you put them in. And, if they haven't already been told, reassure them all that they haven't been arrested, they have been brought here for their own safety. We'll deal with them immediately lunch is over."

"Sire."

~o~O~o~

As soon as they entered the dining room Gerdas scurried over, his face anxious. He was a tall man, thin but not unnaturally so, his hair white around a bald, browning pate. In his black clothing he looked to Garia like an energetic friar from an old dutch painting. She guessed that he must have been at least ten years older than Morlan. He bowed low before the King, his robe billowing.

"Your Majesty!"

"Master Gerdas, rise," Robanar replied. "There is no need for concern, you are among friends here."

"But what has happened, Sire? To be asked to come to the palace with all my servants, to have my mansion searched, to see all the guard manning the Palace walls! Something is surely wrong, although no-one will tell me anything."

"There was an... incident in the palace during the night which has disturbed us. We looked for Morlan, found him missing, heard that he had gone to visit you, that is all. Did Morlan in fact go to your mansion?"

Gerdas looked confused. "Why, Sire, yes he did! He was passing by on his way to another destination, he said." He eyes brightened. "He told me that he had something new to pass on, that in the course of some research he had discovered some formulae which he said might be more accurate in calculating the movements of the planets. He explained them to me, but I have not had time to investigate the matter any further."

"He left to go somewhere else, you say? About what time of evening would that be?"

"Evening, Sire? No, Master Morlan came yesterday afternoon, soon after lunch. I think he left at about the eighth bell, I couldn't be certain."

Robanar looked at Keren and then both looked at Garia, who nodded. This interplay was observed by Gerdas who looked even more confused.

"Sire?"

"Gerdas, I forget my manners. This is Mistress Garia, who is at the center of much of what has happened recently."

Gerdas bowed and Garia curtseyed in reply. It was obvious that Gerdas was puzzled by the presence of a young girl in such a conversation but had no doubt the King would enlighten him.

"We should not speak of these matters at table," Robanar continued. "Wait until afterwards. Perhaps this has all been a misunderstanding."

The King having arrived, everyone found seats for lunch, Gerdas being placed at Robanar's right hand. Garia was seated next to Keren on the other side of Terys.

"You mentioned 'martial arts' earlier this morning, Mistress," Keren said during the meal. "As I consider that I will be a fighting man soon I might be interested in what your society knows of such matters. Are these 'martial arts' only for women, then, or can men do them as well?"

"No, anyone may practice such methods," she replied. "Most are men, most do it for sport," Keren frowned at that, "because it enables one to learn physical and mental discipline. The lessons learned are applicable in real life, though." She gave him a smile. "I would be glad to teach you. Most martial arts require at least a small group of people to be able to perform them properly. First, though, I must find out what this body of mine is capable of. In return," she said, "I would like to see what your own equipment and training provides. Do you train with the Guard? I can't see you doing it all on your own."

Keren grimaced. "Aye, I train with the Guard, and they treat me exactly the same as they would any young recruit. They make no allowances for the fact that I am the King's son."

"Nor should they!" Garia said. "If that allowance means the difference between living and dying in a fight, they should definitely not treat you so. In battle the fact that you are a Prince makes you a more likely target, not less."

"Well said, Mistress," came a voice from across the table. It was Captain Bleskin. "We treat all the guardsmen exactly alike and the Prince is no exception when he comes to the training field. I trust that you are the reason he has been absent recently?"

"I regret so, Captain."

I'll have to be careful here. Bleskin needs to know some of what is going on but I don't know just how much he can be told or when. Damn! There's so much I have to find out, so much I need to consider, so many decisions I have to make! I need time and I'm not getting it!

Lunch ended and everyone rose. Robanar strode off with Gerdas beside him, Keren and Garia following close behind. Queen Terys watched them go with a frown but said nothing, returning with her maids to her own quarters. Robanar found an empty 'public' meeting room at the front of the palace and showed everyone inside, closing the door to exclude servants.

"Please be seated." Once everyone had found chairs his next statement stunned Gerdas. "Mistress Garia here is not from Palarand or even Alaesia. She came to Anmar seven days ago from another world."

"Sire? Have I heard you aright?"

Robanar sighed. "Aye, Gerdas, it is true. She doesn't know how she came here or where her own world might be. Did Morlan not mention anything to you about her?"

Gerdas shook his head, his sharp eyes piercing Garia. "No, Sire, he did not. So, this then is the source of his new formulae? I wondered as much."

"What do you mean, Master?" asked Keren.

Gerdas shrugged. "It didn't seem to me at the time that the subject was one that Morlan was particularly interested in, Highness. I wondered whether he might have picked up this knowledge from another Questor and was pretending it his own." Gerdas glanced at the King. "It's not something that happens very often, Sire, as it would be too easy to be found out." His gaze switched back to Garia. "She is the source of such knowledge? If this is true, then I can quite believe that she is from another world." His gaze grew attentive. "Mistress, I -"

"Not now, Gerdas," Robanar interrupted. "You'll doubtless get your chance to speak to her. Right now we have much bigger problems." He went on to outline the events of the previous evening and night.

"Maker!" Gerdas breathed at the conclusion. "I can't believe it! Morlan a traitor!" He shook his head. "I just can't believe it," he repeated.

"We don't know that he is guilty of anything," Robanar said. "We just know that he's not in the palace that we have been able to discover, that he went out after an evening State banquet saying that he was going to visit you and that he never reached you. It is entirely possible that he has been kidnapped along the way or he's with another Questor and will turn up later today. Or some other more innocent explanation."

Robanar grunted. "I'm prepared to give him that much of the balance of doubt, at least. He has served me well enough in the past. In the meantime," he stood and paced to the window, "the Questors have no leader, and we may have need of the Society's advice in the next days and weeks. I understand that you can deputize for him in his absence?"

"Aye, Sire, I can," Gerdas answered. "After me, it would be Rindal, but he's away on an expedition at the present time, exploring for new plants and vegetation in the remote upper reaches of the Valley."

"You'll do for now, Gerdas. Make yourself acting head of the Society until we find out what has happened to Morlan. Circulate a note to all the others telling them he's gone missing and to inform you the last time anyone saw him. Don't make any mention of what happened in the palace or of Mistress Garia until I tell you it's safe to do so."

Gerdas bowed. "I will, Sire." His eyes went once again to Garia. "And the mistress?"

"You're dying to talk to her, I can see it. Give things a day or two to settle down, Gerdas, and then you may come to the palace and talk with her to your heart's content."

Garia asked, "What do you know of telescopes, Master Gerdas?"

"Telescopes, Mistress? I do not know the word. What is or are telescopes?"

Keren and Garia looked at one another.

Keren replied to Gerdas, "It was one of the things that we specifically instructed Master Morlan to do yesterday morning, to look at the planets through a telescope. The fact that he has not mentioned such a device to you reveals much."

"We, Highness? You are involved in these matters?"

"Yes, Master Gerdas," Keren replied with a small smile. "Master Morlan was being his usual awkward self when questioning Mistress Garia and I was asked to attend to ensure fair play. I learned much yesterday."

Garia added, "A telescope is a pair of glass lenses in a tube. When you look through the tube at a distant object it makes it seem as if it is much nearer and therefore much larger."

"Oh! Yes, Mistress, I remember, a while back one of the Questors experimented with such a thing. We looked at the stars with it but it seemed to make no difference." His expression became intense. "Do you imply, Mistress, that it does make a difference?"

"Yes and no, Master Gerdas." She smiled. "We will talk about such things when you next come, I promise."

"Do not mention telescopes to anyone else, Gerdas," Robanar cautioned. "They are officially a secret known only to the various Guard corps. You may think about them but do no experimentation yet, it may be dangerous to you."

"As you command, Sire."

"Keren, go to the others of Master Gerdas's retinue and find out when any of them last saw Morlan, will you? I will stay here with Gerdas and Mistress Garia and speak more about what dangers Palarand may face in the near future."

"Aye, Father." Keren went to the door and left.

"Thinking further, Gerdas," Robanar continued, "I would be quite content for you and your staff to remain in the palace for a day or two given the circumstances. I'll get the Chamberlain to find you guest quarters. Are there any pressing reasons you need to be at your observatory for the next few nights?"

"No, Sire, I'll be happy to stay in the palace, if not for too long." Gerdas's eyes fixed on Garia and she knew that once he cornered her in a room she would be talking for hours.

Robanar, in response to Gerdas's questions, spent a little time describing the recent events to the satisfaction of the old scientist. Eventually Garia pleaded tiredness and asked to return to her quarters to rest.

"Of course, my dear," Robanar said to her, "I am forgetting, you had a much shortened night. Let us go and find Keren, we can reunite Master Gerdas with his staff and then Keren can escort you back to your suite."

Robanar, Garia and Gerdas left the room to find Keren and the members of Gerdas's household. As they were walking through the palace corridors the Chamberlain found them.

"Sire! There you are. I have news to report." Kendar looked at Gerdas, uncertain of whether he should continue.

"Speak, Kendar. Gerdas knows what's been happening."

"Sire, the footman Serdel cannot be found. He was present at breakfast but has not been seen since."

"Have you informed Bleskin? If he's gone, I'd like to know how he managed to leave the palace."

"Aye, Sire, I have already spoken with Captain Bleskin. And I have news for Mistress Garia, her maid Jenet has awakened. Like the other servants who were sleeping in that room, she has a headache but does not appear to be harmed otherwise."

"Jenet! Can I go see her?" Garia asked.

"As yet they are still a-bed, Mistress," Kendar replied. "The healers recommend quiet and rest for the remainder of the day." He turned towards the King. "The Queen also wished to visit, Mistress Margra advised her to wait until later also. Perhaps Mistress Garia could visit then accompanying the Queen?"

Robanar nodded. "Aye, Kendar, a good idea." He turned to Garia. "Mistress, you are tired, you should rest. There will be time enough later for visiting the sick."

"As you wish, Sire."

Keren escorted Garia back to the household corridor saying that as it was so warm, and he also had been up in the night, that he would take a nap as well until the air cooled. He led her to the King's suite rather than her own and into the sitting room that was the personal preserve of the King and Queen. This was a bigger room than Elizet's had been, even more opulently decorated but practically furnished. Garia supposed that it had been used as a retreat by the royal family, now mostly grown-up and departed.

Keren led her through the sitting-room and out through a door on the far side. Much to Garia's surprise she found herself on a balcony running the whole length of that side of the inevitable cloistered courtyard. This replaced the sloped roof the Lilac Chamber had overlooked, the roof of the upper story instead stretching out over the balcony to provide shade. Scattered along the slatted flooring were wooden constructions which were plainly sun-loungers. In one of these Terys lay semi-dozing, rousing when she heard Keren and Garia approach.

"Ah, good, you've finally arrived. Take a seat, dear, you'll want a nap after last night's disturbed sleep. Keren? Are you staying too?"

"Yes, Mother. Go on, Garia, take a seat, we do this most days during the hot weather."

Although the seats were not padded they were reasonably comfortable and Garia soon settled down. There was a small pillow she could place behind her head, and once she had arranged herself she soon found herself drifting away in the warm air. The balcony was oriented such that the sun didn't strike that side of the building in the middle of the day so she didn't have direct sun to deal with but it was still very warm. A faint breeze whispered over her legs and arms. Before she knew it she had faded completely away.

~o~O~o~

"Your Majesty! Mistress!" Jenet called, struggling to sit up in her bed.

"No, don't get up, any of you," Terys said as she preceded Garia into the door of the room where the drugged servants were resting. "We've just come to see how you are, see if everything is all right with you."

The room was light and airy with the windows opened but the drapes drawn to keep out the direct sunlight of the later afternoon. Garia went to Jenet's bed and knelt down beside it.

"How are you, Jenet? I'm sorry, this is all my fault."

"How so, Mistress? What's going on? They won't tell us what's happened, the rumors we've been hearing are terrifying."

"Someone tried to break into my chamber last night and kidnap me," Garia told the people in the beds.

There were four others besides Jenet, two men and two women. All looked middle aged, Garia had no idea what they did in the palace. They all seemed alarmed by Garia's words and she hastened to reassure them.

"It's all right, the Palace Guard are on the job, you'll be perfectly safe," she said. To Jenet she added, "Actually, if you hadn't suggested that I lock my chamber door then they would probably have succeeded, Jenet. I left the key in the lock so first they tried to loosen it and drop it on a piece of parchment but I stopped them, then they tried to pick the lock but I stopped them again, finally they forced the door with a heavy pry bar of some kind. I tried the rope pull but no-one came, so by the time they started forcing their way in I was climbing out the window. Fell in a bed in the herb garden, got a couple of bruises, look!"

Garia pulled up her sleeve to show Jenet and the others her bruised arm.

"Then I saw one of them climbing out the window so I screamed and threw stones at other windows to waken people up. That stopped them coming after me, then the Guard turned up and I was safe."

"That is terrifying, Mistress! Fancy jumping out a window! I can't imagine anyone else doing that, not unless the building was burning. Did the Guard catch them?"

"No, unfortunately not. There are two things I can let you know, firstly that Morlan hasn't been seen since our meeting after the State banquet, secondly that Serdel hasn't been seen since breakfast."

"Oh! Master Morlan... surely you don't think..."

"We don't know what to think, Jenet. Morlan went out visiting after the banquet, he didn't go where he said he was planning to go."

"And Serdel? You think he had something to do with it, Mistress?"

"I've only recently heard about that. Never mind, others are working on these matters. All that should matter to you is that you all get well again. When do the healers expect you all to be allowed back to duties?"

"Day after tomorrow, Mistress. Tomorrow we are allowed about the palace but to take things easy."

"That's fine. Do you know that I've been moved to Elizet's suite for the time being?"

Jenet's eyes were round. "Really, Mistress?"

Terys smiled at Jenet. "Yes, my dear, and you will be welcome to rejoin your Mistress when the healers allow you back to work. Garia thinks highly of you."

Jenet blushed again as Garia stood up.

"All of you, I must give you my apology," she said. "It was me they came for, I am the reason you were drugged. I know it wasn't your fault, and it isn't my fault either, but I must take some responsibility for what has happened to you all. I sincerely hope that something like this never happens to any of you ever again."

"Thank you, Mistress," Jenet said. "Your concern means much to us." Her words were echoed by the others.

"Well, Garia, we'd better go now before we tire them out," Terys said. "It's time we went back to our suites and prepared ourselves for the evening meal."

~o~O~o~

"So, my dear, what is your opinion of our new family member?" Robanar asked as he climbed into the royal bed. "I gather you had a long talk with her this morning."

"I did, dear," Terys replied. "She is an amazing person, certainly. Her speech patterns are strange, but then she's not a native of the Valley so I wouldn't expect any different. But her way of speaking is more similar to that of Keren than that of our daughters. When she talked about her parents or her... school friends... it was apparent that she was speaking about them as a boy would. She loves her parents, worries what might be happening back home, worries how she's going to fit in here and is absolutely terrified of what she needs to do to become a young woman."

"That's to be expected if her story is true, and I see no reason any more to doubt that it is. Certainly those of Yod consider that it's true. For myself, I find her presence in the palace very refreshing. She has a manner like no other person in the household. I think we made the right choice, dearest, we'll look after her as long as she needs us to."

"I suspect that she's going to bring big changes to Palarand," Terys said. "Are you sure that we can handle that kind of disruption? Some of what she told me was fantastic by any stretch of the imagination. Some of it, though, sounded as if we really need it."

"Yes, I agree. It's like fire, isn't it? The trick is to learn how to use it to heat our houses in winter, to cook our food, to light our way at night, without being burned by it or having it destroy us or our belongings." Robanar sighed into the darkness. "I can't say I much look forward to what's coming, my love, but I can't really see that we've any other choice. Word of her existence will spread gradually through Alaesia and we can't stop that. Other than shutting her up in a hole in the ground we can't prevent what's coming, we may not even be able to control it, all we can do is try to understand it and ride the storm."

"What of Keren?" Terys said softly. "He can't keep his eyes off her."

"I know. I also know that Keren is aware of his responsibilities to the kingdom. At the moment it serves us for them to be friends but they can never be more than that. He has long known that he is not master of his own marital destiny any more than we were of ours. I think that the girl has feelings for him as well, but that is more your specialty than mine. Certainly she stuck close by him last night, didn't she?"

"She did. Still, this is only the fourth night she has spent in the palace. Much can happen before any decisions need to be made."

"True. Now, let us sleep. If the last few days are anything to go by, we'll need to be fresh when we wake up in the morning."

~o~O~o~

Garia was not asleep. She was lying in the middle of the huge bed, the light covering long since thrown to the foot in the heat, her eyes closed, her mind in turmoil.

I feel like a chip of wood in a raging torrent, she thought. I've been whirled along from one thing to the next and the pressures are beginning to tell. The Queen was absolutely right, I do need a few days to try and come to terms with what's happening, but then Gerdas turns up! I could spend a couple weeks just talking to him, let alone anyone else, let alone doing what I should be doing right now, which is finding out as much as I can about my surroundings. It's so frustrating!

And then there's this whole boy-to-girl business. What's that about? Whatever, it's just one more thing that's complicating my life, and it's something that just can't be left until later. Everyone sees a girl and expects me to act just so. She turned abruptly onto one side, her eyes opening into the gloom of the room. There's a trivial advantage, there, she thought. I got dumped into a whole new culture, so there was always going to be a learning curve. Doing it as a girl would be little different than doing it as a boy, I suppose.

Except that there's no equality here. The only advantage I have is that I've ended up near the top of the heap, and I hope that's by sheer luck. Her face took on a determined look. I think I'm going to have to change centuries of custom, try and shift the balance over a bit. I don't think I'm going to be able to function if I don't. My position will help there, but I bet there will be obstacles all the way. I'll have to find a way to use a carrot rather than a stick.

Uncomfortable in the heat she rolled over onto her other side. Light filtered round the edge of the drapes so she supposed that Kalikan was up at the moment. The other two moons were bright enough when you looked at them but they didn't throw a great deal of light. She thought about her conversation of the morning.

I wonder just how much Queen Terys understood of what I talked about. I must have been describing things that were completely alien to her way of life. Still, she asked a few good questions so she must have some idea about where I come from.

I wonder what's happening right now in Hays, Kansas. What are Mom and Dad doing? Am I still there, even? Am I a clone of the real me? I can't have just vanished into thin air, surely?

Actually, now I think about it, people do vanish like that, don't they? Is that what happens to them, they end up in another world like this one? I wonder if there are any more Earth people here on Anmar?

No, probably not, otherwise my own appearance wouldn't have caused so much fuss.

I'm stuck here, aren't I?

No more baseball, no more football, no more sports of any kind, in fact. No more hanging out with the guys. I wonder what they are thinking, now. What they might be saying about me at home.

No more school. College is gone, too, can't see me getting there now. No more checking out the girls. No more parties. No TV, movies, burgers, pizza, all gone. Never going to ride a bike again. No cell phones, computers, cars, planes, electric light even, any of that. I'm stuck, literally, in the dark ages.

God, it's all gone, literally just like that. Splat. I didn't even get to keep my own body. All I have is my memories of who I used to be, memories of an average teenager in an average American town.

A tear trickled down the side of her face and onto her pillow. She closed her eyes and pulled her legs up towards her chest, into a fetal position. The enormity of her situation loomed large in her mind but she was not yet entirely ready to confront it.

This is going to be tough. I just hope I can find enough reliable allies because there's no way I can do it on my own.

Keren's face appeared in her mind.

He'll do for a start. But he's only a big kid like me. His parents seem okay but they have a Kingdom to run. I just hope they keep believing in me.

Garia begins to settle in her new quarters as part of the Royal Family. Master Gerdas learns more than he expected, and it dawns on everyone that steps have to be taken to manage Garia's other-world knowledge effectively and safely.

Somewhere Else Entirely

by Penny Lane

10 - Astronomy, Cutlery, Murder

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.

---

"Is that a dance, Mistress?"

Garia had expected the question but continued sweeping through the positions to the end before repeating the explanation she had given Jenet two mornings before. Kenila looked completely blank. It occurred to Garia that in this society women never fought except presumably at life-or-death moments and possibly not even then. The maid just couldn't grasp the concept of fighting back.

"Never mind for now. Let's go and get bathed."

After washing herself - and the maid - the pair walked into the dressing room in their fluffy robes. Garia was unprepared for what she found after opening the door but on reflection she realized that the daughter of a King would need a bigger dressing room than a mere visitor. This wasn't a closet, even a walk-in closet, but a large room with its own tall window, the same size as the three in the bedroom and the two in her sitting room. In front of the window was an ornate dressing table with a mirror and a row of stoppered porcelain pots. Beside the table and beside the window was a full-length mirror like the one in the Lilac Chamber, made of what Garia had previously decided was polished and lacquered steel. Behind, her transferred clothing filled less than a quarter of the available rail space and there was plenty of room on the shelves as well.

'My' clothing? This is unreal, but I'd better get used to it darn quick.

"What do you suggest I wear today, Kenila?"

"Try this one, Mistress," the maid said. "Or perhaps this one? Do you know what you might be doing today?"

"Not really. The last few days have been a bit... haphazard, haven't they? I wondered if I might get out into the fresh air today." The maid looked concerned. "Oh, I don't mean I'll be going anywhere, I think I might like to get a chance to wander in some of the enclosed gardens here, have a bit of time to myself to think about things, you know? A lot's happened recently, I need to think about it all."

"I understand, Mistress. Perhaps something light, then. I heard it's still going to be warm today. This one, perhaps."

Kenila held up yet another white gown. This one had pink trimmings and gathered flounces at neck, sleeves and hem. Garia sighed internally and nodded acceptance.

A week ago I'd fight to the death if someone attempted to get me to wear something like that, she thought. Now it just plain doesn't matter. They feel good against the skin, though. They look good on, as well, although I'm really not into all these flounces and twiddly bits. This whole business is just so outside my experience I might just as well be in the school play. At least I look as though I ought to be wearing this stuff. Gary would just look plain stupid.

She examined herself in the full-length mirror before sitting in front of the dressing table so that Kenila could brush her hair.

"Do the women where you come from normally wear their hair like this, Mistress?"

"No, not really. A lot of women have short hairstyles though just as many have long hair like yours. The fashions change from time to time." Garia peered into the smaller mirror. "This is beginning to look bad, isn't it? How is hair looked after in the palace? Do you have someone who cuts it?"

"Yes, Mistress, there's a -" the word Garia mentally heard was salon "- where the ladies of the court have their hair trimmed and lots of other things done besides, like feet and nails. Would you like me to arrange a session for you, Mistress?"

Garia sighed internally. She was going to have to spend maybe a couple hours immersed in a totally alien environment and she wasn't looking forward to it. If nothing else, there were too many other things going on to waste the time, but looking at the state of her hair she recognized that there was really no option.

"Yes, Kenila, I think you'll have to. I need to at least have this hair trimmed into something respectable-looking." She paused, a thought surfacing. "But don't make it for today, I'll be too busy, I suspect. Tomorrow at the earliest." And then I'll have Jenet back. She seems to understand my problems much better than the Queen's maids ever will.

"As you wish, Mistress."

As she stood and turned to go she had another thought.

"Kenila, there's a lot of rail space here. What will it be used for? What different sorts of clothes am I likely to be wearing through the rest of the year?"

"Ah, Mistress, there'll be more gowns, I expect. We'll soon be into the rainy season, you'll need outerwear to keep the rain off, capes, cloaks, waxed boots and head wear. As the weather cools there will be different fabrics and styles to keep the drafts off. As winter approaches you'll need woolen underwear, tights, boots and so on. Maybe some furs if you'll be visiting outside the palace."

"Winter. How cold will it get then? Does it snow here?"

"Not very much, Mistress. We get a thin layer two, maybe three times in a winter. Of course, the mountains are entirely covered, nobody can travel very far. Sometimes it gets cold enough that the river starts to freeze. You'll be warm and snug inside the palace, though, don't worry about that."

"I'm not worried, I just didn't know what sort of climate there was round here. Thank you, Kenila. Another question, then. What sort of clothes do I wear if I want to do some exercise? I can't wear something like I have on now, can I?"

"Mistress?" Kenila looked at Garia as if she had grown another head. "Exercise?"

Garia sighed again and dismissed the question with a wave of her hand. Oh, well. A t-shirt and shorts, or even a hockey skirt is obviously going to be out of the question. I'll have to work on that one. "Never mind, let's go and get breakfast."

As they walked into the dining room Garia belatedly remembered Gerdas. He stood talking with the King and Queen as she approached. I'm going to have to make him my first priority this morning, I think. Robanar wasn't entirely fair to the poor man yesterday. She curtseyed to the group.

"Good morning, Your Majesties, Master Gerdas."

"Mistress Garia," Robanar responded. "I trust you slept much better than you did the previous night?"

She gave him a wry smile. "That wouldn't be difficult, Sire. For any of us, I think. Is there any further news?"

"None, Mistress. Certain inquiries are being made in the city and countryside but I have not heard of any progress in that regard. Will you sit next to the Queen this morning?"

"As you wish, Sire." She hesitated, then continued. "Sire, I think it might be a good idea if, after breakfast, I put Master Gerdas out of his misery. It was perhaps unkind to dangle such a bait in front of him yesterday and then tell him nothing."

Robanar looked startled then grinned. "I had not realized that I had done so," he said. To Gerdas he added, "You have my apologies, Master Gerdas. Aye, I think a talk with Mistress Garia after breakfast is a good idea. Shall we sit at table and continue this discussion?"

Halfway through breakfast Prince Keren appeared, grabbed a mug of pel from the serving staff and sat down between two of the officials facing Garia.

"Good morning, Mistress!" he said to her with a smile. He acknowledged his parents. "Father, Mother. I thought I'd come and assist Mistress Garia this morning. Without even her maid to support her today I wondered if she would be strong enough to cope with the questions Master Gerdas is going to throw at her. After all, I'm familiar with much of what she will be telling him." He looked along the table. "Master Gerdas! I can already see that you are anxious to have your curiosity filled today."

"Highness," Gerdas replied. "Am I that transparent? I must admit I spent a poor night, my head filled with speculation as to what I could possibly learn today."

Keren grinned at him. "I can promise you won't be disappointed, Master."

Robanar added, "Mistress Garia has pointed out that I have treated the poor man cruelly by giving him a hint yesterday and then not telling him any more. The two of you had better go and satisfy his quest for knowledge before he expires with frustration."

"Aye, Father."

After breakfast the Prince found them a small meeting room at the front of the palace and they made themselves comfortable. Gerdas immediately made his position clear.

"Mistress, I have been thinking over what the King said to me yesterday and I am wondering just how you can be sure that you come from another world." He shrugged. "I grant it is possible that you may come from a part of Alaesia where conditions are very different to those in the Valley, where different plants grow and different animals wander. You might even come from a distant group of islands in the great ocean we know little or nothing about, for that matter. But... another world? How can you be so sure, Mistress?"

"Easy, Master Gerdas," she replied. "Orbiting my world there is only one moon, not the three that I see here. As I explained to Morlan, my world has been completely and thoroughly explored and there is no part of it that resembles this one, no animals here that are known in my own world."

"One moon, Mistress? Um, it may be possible for there to be a part of Anmar where only Kalikan is visible. I'm not sure, I'd have to make some calculations, but it might be possible."

"Master Gerdas," Garia emphasized, "there is no possibility of my coming from any part of Anmar. Although people from my world cannot travel very far, we have put ships of space in orbit around it, we have even sent men to stand on our Moon. We would know very definitely if there were other moons. No, I can absolutely guarantee that I come from somewhere else entirely."

The color drained from Gerdas's face. "You can send ships up there?" He pointed to the ceiling. "How is that possible?"

"A lot of money, Master Gerdas, a lot of time, a lot of research, a lot of effort. I suppose I'd better explain the reason why we can do things like this. In terms of development my world is about three hundred years ahead of yours."

Garia explained as she had done to Morlan about the progress through technology that Earth had made compared to the present state of Anmar. Unlike Morlan, however, Gerdas immediately accepted the truth of what Garia told him and obviously thirsted for more knowledge. She had to let him down gently.

"It's not that simple, Master. Each advance has to be developed and understood thoroughly before the next can be made. If you can imagine, you would have to make tools to make tools to make tools to make... you get the idea. There are other, ethical factors involved as well. Many, many of the things I know about could prove disruptive to society here. Some of the devices invented on my world can destroy yours utterly. They have come near to destroying Earth, certainly. Most of the technologies would completely change the face of Anmar. A lot of people are going to be out of a job, and mad about it. I promised the King I wouldn't let that happen."

Gerdas seemed frustrated by that statement but accepted the logic of it.

"So," he said after thinking things through, "what you are telling me is that you have some knowledge which is known in your world but not in Anmar." Garia nodded. "And that some of this knowledge you consider dangerous to us. Does that mean that you aren't going to tell us anything? If so, why tell us that you have the knowledge at all? Why say anything?"

"Because not all of that knowledge is dangerous, Master Gerdas. There are certainly things I can tell you, for example, which would advance the science of astronomy by many years without disturbing more than the Society of Questors."

Oh, shit, I forgot. Telling the Pope the truth didn't do Galileo any favors, did it? I'd better find out how the land lies, I think. Now, how can I phrase it so that I don't get burned at the stake?

"Um," she continued slowly, "I've had a thought on the matter of astronomy. There's a fair amount I might tell you, but it may be somewhat different than any current theories you might have. If so, how might new knowledge be received? I don't want to cause any arguments or get myself into trouble for saying things any of us would come to regret."

Gerdas gave a shrug. "Knowledge is knowledge, Mistress. There are many things that puzzle us about the night sky and if someone can provide an explanation which makes more sense then it would generally be accepted, I think. Oh, there are always one or two who will stick to a favorite theory but if your arguments are persuasive most will accept them. Why do you ask? Was there some problem on your own world?"

"Oh, yes, Master, there certainly was. It took hundreds of years before the plain truth of the way the sky worked was accepted and even now there are a small number who insist on different explanations. In fact, many were killed for their beliefs."

I might have struck lucky here. So far, apart from the word 'Maker' used as an exclamation I've come across nothing that indicates religion at all. That doesn't mean there is none, of course, but it might mean that these people are fairly laid back about the whole thing. I can certainly hope so.

"I find that hard to understand, Mistress," Gerdas said, shaking his head. "The truth is the truth, surely. Once demonstrated it should be accepted by all. However," his tone changed, "so far I've actually heard nothing new this morning. Is there something you might tell me which would confirm your story? Some small, innocent thing, perhaps?"

Garia smiled. "Certainly, Master Gerdas. After all, that's the purpose of this meeting, isn't it? Now, what I need is something to write on, to draw diagrams."

Keren rummaged through the drawers and cupboards in a sideboard and found some small sheets of parchment together with some reed pens and bottles of ink. Garia looked at these for a while before shaking her head.

"Given what I did the other day in Morlan's study," she said to him, "I don't think I want to try and do the same thing using those, do I? It would only be a waste of parchment and I'd cover everyone and everything with ink."

Gerdas raised his eyebrows. "You are not familiar with pen and ink, Mistress? Can you not write, then?"

"Oh, yes, Master, I can write all right but we don't use pens like that and loose ink back home, we have other methods." She turned to Keren. "Highness, do you think we could go and use Morlan's study? I can use the blackboard in there if we do."

Keren briefly considered before agreeing. "I shouldn't think he'll mind given the circumstances. Gerdas, do you know if Morlan would object to us using his study? Have you been inside it?"

Gerdas nodded. "I have, but never when Morlan was absent, of course. You're assuming that he will come back eventually, I take it?"

Keren shrugged. "If he does he'll have many questions to answer. In the meantime, I think we can go and use the study ourselves. We'll try not to disturb anything in there."

"Actually," Garia said, "it might be useful in any case. I want to see if he took any of my belongings with him."

"You brought belongings with you?" a startled Gerdas asked. "From the other world, you mean?"

"Not much but, yes, I did. The clothing I wore would not have been appropriate wear for me here, so the palace has fitted me out with more suitable attire."

"How so, Mistress? Is the clothing on your own world that much different than our own, then?"

"Gerdas, on my world I wasn't even a mistress. I was a boy like the Prince here."

Gerdas gaped like a fish.

"And no," she continued, "the clothing on my world is nothing like that worn here. Men's or women's." She looked at the expression on Gerdas's face. "And now you're wondering if I'm completely mad, whether this whole business is a complete waste of your time. I can assure you I'm not and it isn't, and if we go to Morlan's quarters I shall convince you that I am telling the truth."

"Believe her, Gerdas," Keren said. "The King, Queen and I do. The Ascendancy of Yod certainly do."

Keren led them through the palace to Morlan's quarters. A word was needed to Morlan's manservant but the presence of the Prince was sufficient to reassure the man. As they entered Morlan's study Gerdas immediately walked up to the blackboard where the most recent of Garia's explanations was still displayed.

"This is not Morlan's hand, certainly," he said. "You drew this, Mistress?"

"I did," she replied. "I was explaining rainfall."

The rest of the morning was taken up partly repeating the session Garia had had with Morlan and partly with more astronomically related items. Gerdas was surprised but not completely so when Garia told him that the stars were also suns like Anmar's own and that the planets were worlds like Anmar itself. It seemed that some of his astronomer colleagues has suspected as much but had no method of proving or disproving their theories. He was surprised to find out how big the sun was and therefore just how far away even the closest stars must be.

Garia sketched out for him Newton's laws of motion and the gravity formula. She showed him that if he treated all orbits as ellipses rather than circles the calculations came out more accurate. There was also a discussion about telescopes and what might be seen through them, and the nature of the light that came from stars of different colors. After a while Morlan's manservant came to find them to tell them that lunch would shortly be announced.

"Before we go," Garia said, "let's have a look at my things. They should be on the desk over by the window."

The clothes were still there and Gerdas took a close interest in them, especially her shoes. They could not find her watch or wallet, though.

"He could easily have concealed those small items under his clothes," Keren mused. "I wonder if we'll ever see them again?"

"I'm not really too bothered about the wallet," Garia said. "The money is just a curiosity here, after all. The watch is a different matter, it could have told me how long the day here is compared to Earth's. Without a watch there is absolutely no way I know to compare them."

She turned to go, but then inspiration struck her and she turned back.

"I can do one thing, though," she said. "Highness, I'm assuming you have an accurate measure in the palace, a rod or stick of a Stride in length?"

"Yes, of course we do, we keep several," a puzzled Keren replied. "But, there is nothing of your own you can compare it with, surely? After all, even your own body is different here, isn't it?"

"But there is! I know exactly how long the inside leg of these jeans are, thirty-two inches. I measured them when I got them home after buying them to make sure they were the right length. With those and a standard measure from here I can work out what your distances mean in my own terms."

Gerdas looked interested. "How will that help you, Mistress?"

"It will enable me to visualize lengths, volumes and distances," she replied. "That way, whatever I learn of Palarand and Anmar will make more sense to me. After lunch?"

"Yes," Keren said. "I'll ask the tax office if I can borrow a standard measure for the afternoon."

~o~O~o~

"Sire," Gerdas began, "I am extremely pleased to have been given the privilege of talking with Mistress Garia here. Just the few small matters we discussed this morning will mean the beginning of a new era for Astronomy on Anmar. I'm sure that her knowledge will benefit Palarand in many other ways too."

"That may be so, Gerdas," Robanar replied, "but we must tread carefully and cautiously all the while. Mistress Garia has indicated that if her knowledge is used thoughtlessly then there are serious dangers which may beset us, and I'm not just talking about the personal danger she faced the other night. Sit, sit. Leave this discussion, that is for another, more private time, I think. Our lunch awaits. What of the stars, Gerdas? Are there any late adjustments we must make to the calendar?"

Keren showed Garia to her seat, explaining, "Master Gerdas is part of a whole community of astronomers who live all over Alaesia. Of course, we don't know much about what happens right over the other side but I know Gerdas manages the occasional letter with them even so. What they all do is take sightings of the moons, planets and stars in order to keep our calendar straight. When they all agree we update the calendars so that all countries use the same days, weeks, months and years."

"You'll have to explain that a little more, Highness," she said as Kenila pulled out her chair for her. "A week is a week, surely?"

"It's complicated. A week is seven days which is the time Annis takes to go round once and return to any chosen starting point. The problem is, it doesn't take exactly seven days so every so often an extra 'holiday' day is declared in order to correct the discrepancy. The same thing with a month, Kalikan takes thirty-one days and a bit. When the bits add up to a whole day then another holiday is declared, and so on. That happens about every year and a half. There's also an adjustment made so that the year always begins on the shortest day. That happens about every six years or so. Didn't you tell Morlan that your own year was adjusted that way?"

"It is, but we use a standard formula to do it, rather than occasional adjustments like you do. I shall have to find out how your days, months and years are named or numbered, won't I?"

"Of course." Keren smiled. "I shall be honored to instruct you in such matters." Beyond Keren Terys pursed her lips but said nothing.

The main course of the three was a cold dish of sliced meat and some strange vegetables in a dark sauce. The cold meal was perfectly suited to a hot summer's day. Some of the ingredients Garia recognized from previous meals but others were new. Everything she ate tasted fine to her palate for which she was thankful. Something she wasn't thankful for was the awkward manner in which her knife and spoon had to be manipulated to get anything actually into her mouth. A small, round vegetable the size and color of a radish slipped from under her spoon and skidded off her plate in a trail of sauce, across the tablecloth to land in the lap of Captain Bleskin.

"Oh! I'm so sorry, Captain," a mortified Garia told him. "I didn't mean to, obviously. It's just this sauce makes everything so slippery."

"No trouble, my dear," Bleskin lifted his napkin from his lap, complete with offending vegetable, and handed it to a waiting servant for disposal. "I sometimes have the same trouble myself. Although, of course," he smiled at Garia, "I usually take care to aim at junior officers." There was a chuckle from Robanar.

Garia felt her annoyance at the awkward eating implements begin to rise but she managed to hold herself in check. She held up her spoon so that the King and Queen could see it.

"Your Majesties," she began, "may I ask who provides your eating tools?"

"Why, we have metalsmiths in the city who supply the palace, dear," Terys replied. "Why? Is there something wrong with your spoon? I can have a servant replace it if so."

"No, there's nothing wrong with it as such," Garia said. "I have a much better idea, though, and I would like to try it out, please. That means getting your metalsmiths to make me an eating tool of a different design."

"This would be something from your own world, wouldn't it?" Robanar asked. "Are there any problems likely to be caused by using this new device?"

All the other diners at the table stopped eating and looked at Garia. She looked up and down the table and flushed at being the center of attention.

"No, Sire, none at all. It might just make your mealtimes easier, is all."

"We shall speak to the Chamberlain after the meal," Terys decided. "You can inspect all the other cutlery that the kitchen uses, see if there is anything similar that might be useful, make some arrangements. Then," she leaned over the table to make sure she caught Garia's eye, "we shall go to the household chambers and take our afternoon rest."

"As you command, Ma'am."

After the meal most people went off for their afternoon siesta. Captain Bleskin went back to trying to figure out who the intruders were and how they might have gotten in or out of the palace, if indeed they had done so. Terys, Garia and the Chamberlain Kendar followed the serving staff into a part of the palace that housed the great kitchens which kept everybody fed. Here Garia was shown drawers, trays and racks of kitchen and table tools of all kinds and sizes, but there wasn't a single fork in evidence anywhere. She put a question to one of the Master Cooks standing nervously in front of the small party.

"Master, how do you slice meat from a joint, may I ask? I see that you must use a knife, how do you hold the joint steady while you carve?"

"Mistress," the man answered carefully, "we use holding pins. Let me find one for you."

He walked off and returned with a strange device consisting of a wooden handle with a spike sticking out of the end. A disk of metal prevented the spike from going all the way in. Garia could see how it worked. It's like a ski pole without the pole, she thought. Okay, maybe it's time for forks to be introduced to Anmar. She turned to the puzzled man.

"Thank you, Master. The situation appears much as I thought. I don't think we need cause disruption in your kitchen any longer." She turned to the Queen. "Your Majesty, there is nothing suitable here. Perhaps I could talk to this metalsmith you mentioned."

"Certainly, my dear. Kendar, ask Master Parrel to come to the palace tomorrow morning to see me, would you? Tell him I wish to commission, hmm, something new from him."

"As you command, Your Highness."

"And now," she continued, "It is time for our rest."

~o~O~o~

When Garia opened her eyes it was mid-afternoon, maybe four by Earth reckoning. She raised her head and saw that the Queen, Keren and the Queen's two maids were still all asleep, although she knew that it wouldn't be long before they all woke up. She had discovered that her own sitting room had a door onto the balcony and so she was lying in her own recliner a short distance from those the others were using. Looking beyond the other recliners in her line of vision she noticed two Guardsmen sitting at the very end of the balcony, both attentive with weapons to hand. It seemed that, although unobtrusive, Robanar was taking the security of his family very seriously indeed, and that family now included Garia.

She stood and then stretched, working her arms and legs to take the stiffness out, then entered her sitting room to look for something to drink. A jug of water was on a side table with some goblets, the water was warm but in a world with no refrigeration that was to be expected. She went back out onto the balcony and looked the other way, discovering that another pair of Guardsmen sat at the other end as well. She walked towards them and they both automatically stood.

"No, don't bother getting up on my account," she said. Neither man listened to her, they were too well trained. "I just wondered if this was a normal duty for you."

"Mistress, normally there's a single man at each end," the older of the pair said. "Since the other night the Captain has been more cautious and sent four for this duty."

"Oh. You look familiar, somehow," she said to him. "Are you one of those that follows the Prince and me when we walk about the palace?"

He nodded. "Aye, Mistress. I'm sorry, we try not to get in your way, but we have to be near enough to help if there's trouble, you must understand that."

She smiled at him. "You don't have to apologize for doing your job. After the other night I'm glad to have people like you around to look after me."

The younger Guardsman could not have been much older than Garia. He swallowed, then ventured to speak.

"Mistress, that was a brave thing you did the other night. Are the women all like you where you come from?"

"Not at all. I would like to think that most would try and look after themselves a little better than the women I've met so far in Palarand, but then my world is so different than yours that they have to. We're a little more independent, say."

"As you say, Mistress." He looked at the decking, and then at Garia again. "Mistress, we've been hearing all kinds of rumors about you. All kinds of crazy things."

"I would treat all such rumors as fantasy if I were you. I imagine that one day the story of where I come from will be common knowledge here but for now, it's best that we keep things to ourselves. After all, it was probably those rumors which sent those men to my bedchamber." She took pity on the young man. "Look, as far as you and the other Guardsmen are concerned, I'm just a young woman who's come here by accident, don't know how I got here, don't know how to get home. I can speak the language but that's all. I know next to nothing about Palarand, Alaesia or Anmar. The King has offered me a home until such time I might be able to find my way back, which probably means never. Other than that, I'm just a normal person."

"Are you high-born, Mistress?" the older one asked.

"No. We don't have such distinctions where I come from, not like that." Garia could see them having difficulty with that concept but decided not to elaborate. "My Dad is a... merchant, if that makes my status any clearer."

"Thank you, Mistress."

The two men suddenly stood straighter and Garia turned to find the Queen bearing down on her.

"Garia? Is everything all right?"

"Yes, Ma'am, thank you. I was just curious, is all."

Terys nodded to the two men then said, "Very well, then. Do you want to come into the sitting-room? Kenila is brewing up some afternoon pel."

Garia correctly interpreted this as a direct command and followed Terys back into their sitting room. They sat down facing one another and the Queen spoke.

"That's not really a good idea, you know. You're a young woman and those are Palace Guardsmen, who knows what could happen. You should have a chaperone with you at all times when you are talking to men you don't know. And sometimes when they are men you do know. I don't know what it's like on your own world, but here it isn't seemly for a woman to talk to men that way, not unless she's one of the unsavory kind."

"A prostitute, you mean?"

Terys responded to Garia's involuntary reply with a look of distaste. "You know about those, do you?" When Garia nodded she continued, "Everyone in Palarand recognizes that they have an important function to perform but nobody speaks about them in polite company. Can you remember that, dear? I wouldn't like you to cause another fuss like your remark to Morlan did the other day."

"Uh, I understand, Ma'am. But... those Guardsmen, it was an innocent question or two, that's all. I think they were more frightened of me than anything."

"That's fine, dear. Just remember that it might not be so innocent next time and act accordingly."

"Yes, Ma'am."

After taking afternoon pel Keren appeared bearing an official Stride measure. This was a length of rectangular cross-section brass which had been inscribed with appropriate subdivisions and stamped as a legal standard measure. It was the first time Garia had seen the Royal Arms of Palarand up close, a disc with a wavy line across it, a strange animal either side and a crown on top.

"This the kind of thing you meant, Garia?"

"Oh, yes, I think that will do just fine. Ma'am, is it all right if we go? I must do some measuring in Morlan's study."

"What are you two up to now? What are you doing in there?"

Keren explained how they had spent the morning and how Garia had an idea for comparing dimensions with Earthly ones. Terys's eyes started to glaze over at the explanation and she waved them away. Keren led the way back to Morlan's quarters where they discovered Gerdas waiting for them.

"Master Gerdas."

"Mistress Garia. Well, knowing what you were about to attempt, I couldn't miss the opportunity to watch you make calculations in your own numbers. I trust I was correct in this assumption? Do you mind me observing?"

"Not at all, Master. Now, I'm going to need some help from you both, since I don't understand your numbering system, so I can't read this measure."

By dint of some counting and adding up on her fingers, she worked out the length of the trouser leg as a proportion of a Stride and started making calculations on the blackboard. Gerdas was fascinated by her rapid scribbling. When she had finished she frowned at the result.

Damn. I had hoped that a Stride was going to be close to a yard, which would have meant that a Foot would be almost the same as an Earth foot and so on. They must have taken big steps in these parts when they defined the Stride. This thing is just short of thirty-nine inches. Hmm. Those jeans have been washed a couple times, now I think about it. Did they stretch or did they shrink?

She sighed. Oh, well, at least I have another option, although the all-American in me wishes it were otherwise. I will have to assume that a Stride is almost a Meter. I can live with that. It means a Mark is just under a kilometer or so. It will do. If I need miles I can just use the five-eighths rule. I can use metric tons as well for weights but I really don't get kilograms like I do pounds. Oh, well, I couldn't expect it to come out a perfect match, could I?

"Mistress? You look disappointed."

"Hm? Oh, it's not really compatible with the measures I'm used to at home but there's a different set I can use. I'll get by. It'll only be until I get used to the measures you use here, anyway."

"These calculations of yours," Gerdas said. "They mean absolutely nothing to me at all. Might I ask you to explain them, Mistress?"

"Why, certainly, Master Gerdas."

She started to explain but found that it was first necessary to write down the digits and show how they were used to do positional arithmetic. In the course of this explanation she discovered that in the Valley they used a system derived from the ancient Chivan method which functioned somewhat similarly to Roman Numerals. This used a mixture of letters and special symbols and went up to eighty before repeating. Needless to say Gerdas was ecstatic to find another system which was so much simpler.

"Mistress, may I write these symbols of yours down and use them myself? In working out the positions of moons, planets and stars there are many calculations and your own methods will make my work so much simpler."

"Um."

It's here. This is the first real decision I have to make. Introducing forks is almost nothing compared to this. This will change a world.

"Um," she said again. "Master Gerdas, what you ask is simple, but it may have far-reaching consequences for the whole of Alaesia." She gave Keren a significant look. "I think it's time we had that long talk with the King and Queen. We need Gerdas as well."

"I agree," Keren said. "I want to learn these symbols as well. If you're figuring out the taxes, or supplying the palace, or administering the Palace Guard, these are going to make a lot of difference. Maker, almost any activity I can think of will benefit. I can see why you need to talk to Father and Mother."

Gerdas had gone pale at the Prince's words. He found a seat and sat down, pulling a cloth from his waist pouch to wipe the dampness from his forehead.

"I hadn't realized," he said. "I understood that Mistress Garia had come from another world, but I hadn't thought through the implications of the knowledge she brings. Maker! No wonder someone tried to kidnap her!" He looked at Keren. "Highness, we most certainly do need to discuss these things." He turned to Garia. "Mistress, I assume that the knowledge you have may contain bad as well as good?"

She nodded. "Yes, Master Gerdas. The problem is, of course, that it's not immediately obvious which category some knowledge falls into."

"Yes, I can see that. Maker!" He put his elbows on his knees and rested his head in his hands.

"That's that," Keren said. Garia looked at him questioningly. "I don't think we ought to proceed much further here till we work out how to handle the knowledge you bring. I don't think I'd realized either just what a difficult task you have in front of you. Let's all go back to your sitting room, maybe we can work on that problem in the time we have left before we eat. Master Gerdas, your opinion will be invaluable."

Gerdas looked up. "Yes, Highness, of course. No wonder His Majesty was so anxious to find someone to deputize for Morlan until he is found again." He stood, addressing Garia. "Mistress, may I assume that you have told Master Morlan more than you have told me so far?"

"Yes, although not in such detail," she replied. "We didn't do so much astronomy either but we covered a number of other subjects. It was necessary to do that to convince him I wasn't making it all up. To start with, he just thought me a silly little girl who couldn't even read or write."

Gerdas nodded. "That sounds like Morlan. He's not quite the most difficult of the Questors in Palarand but his position as Head of the Society sometimes makes him unpleasant to deal with. I wonder what's happened to him?"

The three made their way through the palace back to Garia's sitting room.

"I need more information," Gerdas began. Keren raised an eyebrow and Garia gave him a wry grin. He continued, "what I mean is, because I don't yet know your history, Mistress, I am unable to understand what kind of knowledge you might possess. In your world, what are you? Are you a young person much as we see you here?"

"As far as I can make out, I'm exactly the same age I was before I came here," she replied. "Although finding that out was complicated to start with because my world has a shorter year. That's not the whole story, though, because where I come from all children attend school until about the age of... seventeen here, I guess. I have a year left of school at home. If you think of me as being the same age as Keren, I mean the Prince here, you won't be far wrong. Don't forget I was a boy before I came, although girls get the same schooling boys do, so I guess I was about the same size as him as well."

"This is going to take some sorting out," Gerdas muttered. "Boys, girls, different year lengths, still at school!"

"I think the best idea is going to be that I tell everyone my story once, after the evening meal," Garia said. "Otherwise I'm going to get hoarse repeating the same thing over and over. I've told the King some things, I've told the Queen other things, it's all getting complicated."

"We'll do that," Keren said. "I have an idea, too, that I'll put to Father. We have special scribes within the palace who can write down as fast as a person speaks. I'll ask him if we can find one who is reliable and able to keep his mouth shut. That way, whenever you tell us something, we'll have a record of it and you won't have to keep repeating yourself."

"An excellent idea!" Gerdas said.

At that moment Kenila came into the sitting room and curtseyed.

"Highness, Master, Mistress, the evening meal will soon be served. The mistress needs to change her gown."

"Of course," Keren said. "Here, Gerdas, let me take you back to your own chamber, we'll both need to freshen up. By your leave, Mistress."

~o~O~o~

During the course of the meal a Guardsman hurried into the dining room and saluted as he leaned over beside the King. A hurried discussion was held, Robanar's face changing from interested to surprised to grim. He gave some instructions to the man who promptly withdrew. Terys tried to question Robanar about the message but he just shook his head. The rest of the meal was conducted in a more somber manner than it had begun with.

~o~O~o~

"During the evening meal I received grave news," Robanar said to the company. This consisted of himself, Terys, Keren, Garia, Gerdas and Bleskin, all seated in the downstairs parlor. Servants had been dismissed.

"A body has been found," the King continued, "three Marks south of South Slip on the highway north. A Valley messenger on his way north spotted the body lying in full view by the side of the road. Naturally he couldn't stop, but he informed the detachment at the ferry guard post and they sent out a party to retrieve the body. Bearing in mind the description we sent out this morning they seem to think it might be that of Morlan."

"Oh, no!" Terys gasped. "It couldn't be, surely? The poor man!"

Robanar shrugged. "We won't know until the body gets back here. They are packing it in straw and a little ice which remained in their stocks and are sending it back here by wagon at first light tomorrow morning. It should get here by lunchtime or a little after."

"Were there signs of injury on the body, Father?" Keren asked.

"A thin blade - likely a longish knife - right through the left chest," Robanar replied heavily. "We'll have to examine the body to determine if it went in from the front or the back but I don't think that's really important." He sighed. "Apparently, the description we sent fitted that of the victim quite closely. We will have to assume, at least until there's evidence to the contrary, that Morlan is dead."

"Excuse my ignorance," Garia said, "but what is the likelihood of this being someone else's body? I mean, I suppose, how often does this sort of thing happen in Palarand?"

Keren replied. "Not that often, fortunately, Mistress. Central Palarand - that's the part of the Valley where we are - is about half the total for the whole country, but that's because most of the population lives in the city here. We get between one and two suspicious deaths a week, I suppose. Most of those are among the townspeople, drunken squabbles, domestic fights and the like. Most nobles travel with armed retainers and that means they are generally safe from cut-throats and such people. Of course, up in the mountains, where you were found, for example, it can be a lot worse, with armed bands roaming about, but even up there very few actual deaths occur these days."

"Oh. Thank you, Highness." I was very lucky, then, to be found by Tanon and Merina.

"So," said Terys, "do you want to discuss this now, dear, or continue as Keren originally proposed? I don't see we can actually do very much until tomorrow."

Robanar sighed again. "No. As you say, we shan't be able to do much about the body till it arrives here and the healers examine it. Mistress Garia has a bigger problem and it's already here, not on a wagon at South Slip. Keren? If you would take the lead on this one, you've been closer to the mistress than any of us since she's come to Palarand."

"Aye, Father." He thought for a moment then said, "Mistress Garia presents many problems to Palarand, Alaesia and possibly all Anmar. She comes from somewhere else entirely, and the society which she comes from is completely different than our own, so different in fact that we have difficulty comprehending much of what she tells us."

Keren was speaking initially for Bleskin's benefit, as he had not been fully aware of Garia's origins and nature. The surprise was evident on the captain's face.

Keren continued. "What is clear is that she comes from a society much further advanced than any we know about on Alaesia. Even though she is just a young person, and she brings with her essentially no possessions that might be of use to us, what she remembers is enough to promise huge changes here if we decide to make use of them. This in itself is the first danger. Almost anything she tells us is going to lead to changes in the lives of everyone, changes that might not be for the good."

"Like that eating implement she wants us to try," remarked Terys.

"Exactly," Keren agreed. "But I don't think that is going to do much more than possibly make eating meals easier. On the other hand, this afternoon Garia demonstrated to Gerdas and myself her system of numbers, and it was immediately evident that it was so much better than what we use now that we both wanted to learn her new system straight away. Both of us."

Keren looked at his father. "Father, if we switch to her numbering system I can guarantee that it will reduce the time taken to sort out the taxes by half at the very least. The potential is enormous. On the other hand adopting such a system could cause problems we can't even guess at yet. She has also discussed astronomical matters with Master Gerdas here and if he uses her numbering system as well, I can't imagine what changes it will make to his profession."

"A golden age, Highness," Gerdas said. "We will increase our knowledge of the heavens tenfold at the very least. Especially if we start using telescopes properly."

Bleskin started. "Telescopes? She has, beg pardon Mistress, Mistress Garia has discussed telescopes with you?"

"She talks of telescopes strides wide, made from mirrors," Gerdas replied. "I don't think we can quite manage anything like that yet, but since I now know that such things are possible my fellow Questors and I can make plans for the future."

"And therein lies the next danger," Keren concluded. "The mere fact that Mistress Garia says that something is possible, even if she can't describe it or its construction, would be enough to cause changes to our way of life. While I have no doubt that there are things she could tell us which can only improve life here, there will be things which are bad and there are things which may be either. Or, indeed, both."

"I also have talked with Garia," Terys said. "While mostly we talked about her family, she also told me about, um, what her world uses instead of healers. I didn't understand very much of what she told me, but I did understand that they had a well-organized system for identifying and treating diseases, for preventing diseases in the first place, for treating accidental injuries and for extending life. Those are all things that I would ask that we must have for Palarand. Just preventing unnecessary deaths in childhood would be its own reward."

"True," Garia confirmed. "Our modern medical methods have saved countless lives and I would be glad to add what knowledge I have to what your healers already know."

"There is another factor I haven't yet mentioned," Keren resumed. "That is the fact that someone tried to abduct Mistress Garia the night before last and that means that other people know of her existence and that she has new knowledge. She represents a treasure-house to any other country and some would go to great lengths to obtain her. That being the case, we are obliged to keep her safe in Palarand. Should we therefore try to keep her and her knowledge secret?"

"Mistress," Robanar said to Garia. "I don't want you to get the idea that we want to keep you prisoner here. We merely wish to keep you safe. If you, at any time, want to leave us, then we will release you to go wherever you wish. At the moment I would advise against that as you know little about Palarand or even Alaesia to make any such decisions. But I gave you a promise, that we would not detain you against your own desires, and I repeat that promise here."

"Thank you, Sire," she replied. To Keren she said, "Highness, I don't think that you can keep much of what I tell you secret. It doesn't work that way. If you start using my numbering system it is more than likely that everyone in Alaesia will be using it within a year. If you start using forks here then, since the King and Queen will use them, they will become fashionable and everyone will start using them as well. Similarly, if I tell things to your healers the knowledge will spread, and that can only be a good thing if it means more lives are saved."

She turned to Bleskin. "Captain, I understand what an advantage telescopes must give to your troops when your enemy doesn't have them. The problem is that you can only really keep such secrets in time of war, and, believe me, my world has known countless wars so I know what I am talking about. In peace time, though, the knowledge will inevitably leak out. Telescopes are going to be too useful to keep them a secret very long."

"How so, Mistress? I can perhaps understand Gerdas's interest, but who else might use such things?"

"Every single sea-captain, for one thing," she replied. "To be able to study a dangerous coast from a safe distance, to be able to identify a hostile ship when you are still far enough away to make your escape. Or how about long-distance communications? When I was coming here with Tanon's caravan we stopped at a place at the top of a cliff."

Bleskin nodded. "The Lookout."

"There was a man there looking down at the Valley when I went there. Was he posted there to look for signals?"

"I understand your point, Mistress. We have long agonized over giving them a telescope but because the secret would be lost, we just have to find someone with sharp eyes."

"Yes." Garia paused to marshal her thoughts. "My real point is, though, that the secret - any secret - is going to come out eventually. Therefore I have to tell you all that there are some things which I don't want to tell you at all. The problem I have is, I don't know if I have the right to do that. I don't know if I'm supposed to do that."

She shook her head to try and clear her thoughts. "What I mean is, I'm here, and changes are going to come to Anmar. Is this right? Is this the reason I've been sent here? If so, it would have been nice of someone to tell me. I really don't know. I can't get over the idea that I might be doing the wrong thing."

"Mistress," Robanar said. "I believe - and the Queen also believes - that you were sent here for a reason, even if we don't yet know what that reason is. We understand your dilemma. I think that you should let us determine what might be right for Anmar and what might not. I shall make a proposal for you all to consider. Firstly, two councils, an inner and an outer council. The inner one should be just those in this room and maybe one or two others expert in their fields.

"I propose that you tell your story, as much of it as you feel able, to the Inner Council and let us decide, on the basis of what you tell us happened in your own world, what we ought to pass on to the Outer Council. If we decide that whatever you tell us would not be suitable for our society we would keep that entirely secret from everyone else, but it would be written down for scholars in a future more enlightened time to consider then. Anything we consider Palarand, Alaesia or indeed Anmar would benefit from, we would pass to the Outer Council whose job will be to ensure that the knowledge is made use of and not hoarded for gain.

"I fully agree with you about secrets, Mistress. Therefore we should make sure that there are none in this process except where we deem the knowledge too dangerous at the time. If there are good ideas, like your numbering system, then we should make sure those aren't restricted to a privileged few." He pulled a face. "If that means giving such wonders to the likes of Yod, so be it. We will at least have the satisfaction that the ideas come from Palarand, not their little bit of Valley mud. Any questions, suggestions?"

Keren spoke. "Father, I think we'll need some Quick Scribes," he said. "One of the problems we've had so far is that poor Garia has to keep repeating her story for every new person she meets. It would be more sensible to write down everything she says and then it's all on record."

Robanar nodded. "Aye, I agree. I have noticed that Mistress Garia's voice is already becoming rough with the speaking she has done thus far. We'll have to find some reliable people, and to find somewhere secure to store the records." He turned to Garia. "What is your opinion of my idea, Mistress?"

"It sounds workable, Your Majesty," she replied slowly. "Can I think about it overnight, please?"

"Certainly! I suggest we all do that, and tomorrow as well. We'll reconvene here tomorrow evening after the evening meal - assuming nothing happens in the mean time - and formalize the arrangement, if that's agreeable to all of you?"

"Sire."

~o~O~o~

"Jenet!"

"Good evening, Mistress. I thought I'd move in this evening, to be ready in the morning. The healers have agreed that I can return to work."

"You are feeling better, now?"

"Yes, Mistress. Mistress Margra said that the drug was a known herb, I shouldn't have any after-effects that haven't already occurred."

"Wait, you said you were moving in."

"Yes, Mistress. These suites have a room for the servants to sleep in. It's over here."

Jenet led the way to a narrow door beside the fireplace and opened it. Inside was a small room with a bed either side, a small locker at the far end of each under a hanging rail. Jenet's few clothes were on the rail and on top of one of the lockers.

"This is ridiculous! This room is smaller than my dressing room! There's not even a window!"

"That's all right, Mistress. It's really only used when we sleep at night. Remember, I should always be in your presence, so I don't need that big a room to keep my things in."

"I suppose. It just doesn't seem that fair, is all. I get all these rooms and you end up with something little bigger than a closet."

"Remember that this was Princess Elizet's suite, Mistress. She needed all these rooms, especially once she had reached ten winters and grew from girl to woman. It doesn't worry me, Mistress. That's just the way things are in the palace."

"As you say, Jenet."

"Now, Mistress, shall I help you with that gown? Perhaps you can tell me what's been happening today."

Garia encounters obstructions of various kinds as she tries to get through a busy morning. If it isn't designing forks then it's a trip to the salon that gets off to a bad start. As lunch approaches she receives an intriguing invitation which just causes further problems...

Somewhere Else Entirely

by Penny Lane

11 - Morning Difficulties

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.

---

Dawn had been a while ago but there was so far little movement about the palace. Garia sat up against her pillow, her arms around her knees, her unfocused gaze on nothing at all in the dimly-lit room as she wrestled with her problem.

Who do I trust?

It all comes back to that, doesn't it?

Is Robanar as genuine as he seems, or is he attempting to gain control over whatever I choose to reveal to this world? His plan sounds reasonable, but we'll have to think the rules through pretty carefully before I will commit myself to what he proposes.

If he has another agenda, what options do I have? He's said, and repeated in front of witnesses, that I can leave here whenever I want, but would I be throwing myself out of the frying pan into the fire? Would he really let me go? If I stay, what would he do with me? What might he do to me? She shivered. I can't really believe he's that evil, but even so. I'm still just a kid really and he's had years of running a country as absolute ruler. How am I supposed to know what he's like? I don't know how to answer these questions, and I don't know who to ask for advice.

She didn't know how long she stayed there, trying to figure out a way of solving her problem but just going round and round. Bells tolled the time in the distance but she still had no idea what they meant. The narrow door opened and Jenet emerged wearing the inevitable fluffy robe, ready for the morning bathing session.

"Mistress! You're already awake! Good morning." Jenet looked at Garia's face more closely in the growing light. "Mistress? What's the matter?"

Garia sighed and beckoned to Jenet.

"Come over here, Jenet. Have we got spare time before breakfast? Perhaps I can ask you a question or two before we get started."

"Aye, Mistress. We have time, I'll keep an ear open for the bells."

"Come over here, sit on the bed here by me." Garia patted the bed to one side.

"Mistress? Are you sure? It seems disrespectful."

"Not with me, it isn't. Come and sit down a moment, let me explain my problem and see what you think."

"If you insist, Mistress." Jenet sat cautiously on the side of the bed, her feet on the floor.

Garia said, "You've been with me almost all the time since I came to the palace, haven't you? Up until the other night, that is. Still, you were with me when Morlan tried to convince himself I was a spy, you heard me convince him I knew a great deal more than a local girl of my age might. How much of what you heard did you understand?"

"Some, Mistress. A lot was difficult, because you spoke of things I knew nothing about. I couldn't see what you wrote on the board very clearly, either, from where I was standing. Why, Mistress? Do you think that I could be in danger because of what I might have found out?"

"Quite possibly, Jenet, but that was not why I asked. You understand that I have a lot of knowledge, and that I could teach people here what I know if I chose to."

"Why yes, Mistress, and I hope that you do so."

"Hmm. Do you also understand that whatever I tell people is going to cause great changes to Palarand, and possibly all Alaesia? It could upset a lot of people. Jobs are going to be lost, customs changed and so on."

"I think so, Mistress, from what you have said before. But, surely, the good must outweigh the bad? Will we not be better off afterwards?"

"That's the problem. We don't know what might happen in the future. What happened on my world - and not all of that was good, by a long way - may be totally different than what happens here. Now, because the King understands that, he has a plan."

Garia outlined what Robanar had proposed the previous evening, explaining how she thought his plan was intended to work, telling Jenet her misgivings. The maid considered all this carefully, fully aware that she had been given privileged information.

"If you're asking me whether you can trust the King," she replied carefully, "I can only tell you what I know of him. I was born in the palace, my mother was a serving maid and my father, as near as we can tell, one of the under-cooks, so I have lived here all my thirty-five years. It's not an unusual occurrence among the staff, the children are well looked after here. In all the years I have lived here I have found the King to be a good man, thoughtful in the things that I know he does for Palarand. Of course being just a servant I don't know everything he does. I have no reason to think that he would be jealous of the knowledge you possess, Mistress. If he says he will do a thing, then generally he does it."

"Generally?"

"Occasionally things have happened over which he has no control. Like the river flooding, for example. That is something no king has any control over. It will undo the best of plans. But he has given you an undertaking, Mistress, and he will try and hold to his promises as much as he can."

"I see. Jenet, thank you, you are putting my mind at rest." Garia pushed back the covers fully. "Perhaps we ought to go and get in the bath, then."

~o~O~o~

Keren joined them for breakfast.

"I had a talk with Bleskin," he explained to Garia before they sat down. "We agreed that there wasn't a lot of point me turning up on the training ground each morning if I was then going to skip off halfway through to come and assist you with whatever's going on, and it looks like your life is going to get even more complicated for a while. I talked it over with Father too and I convinced him that you were more important at the moment than Guard training was."

"That's very thoughtful of you, Highness," she replied. A mischievous look came into her eyes. "Are you sure there wasn't another reason?"

"Funny thing," he replied with a straight face. "Father asked me the exact same question. I'm not sure I understood what he was getting at."

"I bet you didn't. I wonder if they play poker on this planet?"

"Poker, Mistress?"

"Never mind. If I get the chance, much later on, I'll enlighten you. Shall we sit down?"

Gerdas was there, fortunately for Garia seated on the other side of Robanar as befitting an honored guest. She knew that she would have to spend some time with him that day and that was probably one of the reasons that Keren had rearranged his schedule. The meal passed well, most of the court now becoming familiar with her appearance and some of them passing remarks to her at table. In her own mind she was beginning to feel less like a stranger and more like she belonged here. It would still take time, but she was feeling more comfortable with her situation with each day that passed, abduction attempts notwithstanding.

A footman came at the end of the meal and whispered in the Chamberlain's ear. He stood and approached the Queen.

"Your Majesty, I have word that Guildmaster Parrel is waiting your pleasure at the front of the palace."

"He is? Oh, of course, yes. Garia, my dear, are you ready to speak to your metalsmith? He is waiting."

"As you wish, Your Majesty."

The footman led Terys, Garia and a curious Keren through the corridors to a room like those they had used the previous day. In one of them they found an older man and a younger companion, both looking uncomfortable in tidy clothes they obviously wore infrequently.

"Your Majesty, Your Highness, Mistress," the older man began. "If I may present my journeyman Tarvan. I received word that you wished to see me. To commission a new work, I understand?"

"That's correct, Master Parrel," Terys replied. "Let me see how I can explain this." Parrel and Tarvan looked curiously at the three, puzzled as to the nature of their summons. Terys thought about how to describe what Garia wanted without burdening them with too much information that might get in the way of the discussion.

"This is Mistress Garia," she gestured at Garia and the two men bowed in her direction. "She is a visitor to Palarand and indeed the Valley. The ways of her homeland are quite different than ours and she finds difficulty in eating meals with the tools we are accustomed to use here. She has asked if someone here could make a tool that she is familiar with. I am assured that it will be a simple task for someone such as yourself."

"Indeed?" Parrel's eyebrows rose. He turned to Garia. "Mistress? Can you explain what we might do for you?"

"Master Parrel, yes I can," she said. She held up a spoon that she had 'borrowed' from the breakfast table. "What I want is something similar to this in size and shape but -" As she talked she showed him with hand and finger movements what she was thinking of. The journeyman had a bag and produced from it a slate and chalks. Garia discovered that she could draw what she envisaged quite easily.

Parrel nodded. "That shouldn't be difficult to do, Mistress. We can use a modified spoon pattern and then, instead of beating out the bowl, instead cut slots down as you describe. You desire the ends to be filed to points?"

"Oh, no, Master Parrel! This is going to go into my mouth, I wouldn't want to injure myself. What I want is blunt points like this." She showed him on the slate. "I'm only going to pick up cooked food from my plate, blunted points should be good enough to push through food that soft."

"Interesting, Mistress. This design intrigues me. It is so simple, yet no-one in Palarand has thought of such a thing. Ah. If one uses these, then how does one take gravy and sauces?"

"A spoon is usually provided as well, Master, but there are many meals where a spoon is not necessary."

"What would one call such a tool as this, Mistress?"

"At home we call them forks, Master Parrel."

"Forks, Mistress? In Palarand the word fork means a tool which is used by farmers to break up clods in their fields, Mistress."

Tarvan added, "And for shifting manure, Master."

Garia saw the potential problem. "In my country the word fork is used for many different things. A fork in the road where it splits in two or more directions. Forks in the trunks of trees. It may originally have been a farming implement, now it is used more generally to describe something that divides."

Parrel nodded. "Ah, I understand, Mistress. Well, these shouldn't take too long to fashion. Tarvan is quite capable of such work. How long do you think, Tarvan?"

The journeyman shrugged. "This afternoon, Master, if suitable blanks are available. Tomorrow morning if I have to start with a sheet. How many would the Mistress wish us to make?"

Garia thought briefly. "Four, I think, to start with. I'm assuming that the King and Queen will wish to try them?" She looked enquiringly at Terys.

"Yes, why not? And the fourth is for Keren, of course."

"Yes, Ma'am. Four it is then, please, to the same handle pattern as this spoon if you can manage that."

"Of course, Mistress. We supplied the eating ware for the palace, after all, we should be able to match the pattern." Parrel eyed Garia with interest. "Mistress, there's more going on here than a simple eating tool, isn't there? There have been... rumors in the city, especially since the alarms the other night."

Garia looked at Terys and Keren. Terys merely returned her gaze but Keren made a gesture which suggested she proceed as she thought best.

"I won't deny it, Master," she said, "but," she waved a finger at the two men, "I want this whole business kept quiet for now." She considered. "As a matter of interest, Master, what metals do you work with here? I mean, not just yourself, but all the metalsmiths."

"Mistress? Quite a few, now I think on it. Iron, of course. Steel, when we can make it. Bronze, brass, zinc, tin, lead, copper, silver and gold of course. Why, Mistress? Is there something special you wished us to make for you?"

"Um, I'd rather not answer that question just now. What I think I'd like to do first is to have a look at where you do your work, get some feel for the kinds of things the metalsmiths here are capable of. Would I be able to do that?"

"Mistress?" Parrel looked at Garia with surprise and then at the Queen. "I don't... why would a young woman wish to see what metalsmiths do? It's... not a normal thing. By custom, women are not permitted in our shops, it is too dangerous for them."

Terys said, "In the country where Mistress Garia comes from the customs are somewhat different. I believe that were you to allow Mistress Garia access she would understand much of what was in front of her."

Parrel looked at Garia with an expression that implied he didn't believe a word of it. "Mistress, I'm not sure..."

"If we may leave that question for now, Master," Terys said. "Think about our request and we'll discuss it further when you return with the forks. If I read Mistress Garia's request correctly, what she asks is very important, so I ask you to consider it seriously in the meantime."

"As you command, Your Highness." The two men bowed, assuming the audience was over.

"Thank you for your time, Guildmaster, Journeyman." Queen Terys dismissed them before walking out of the room in front of Keren and Garia.

As they walked back to the rear of the palace Terys remarked, "You have more than a passing interest in the metalsmiths, then, dear?"

"Oh, yes, Ma'am," Garia replied. "If this whole business takes off then people like Parrel will be making a lot of what I describe, at least to start with."

"Yes, I see that," Terys replied. "Do you think that Parrel ought to be on one of the councils, then?"

"Yes, Ma'am, I do. If I'm right, the metalsmiths, or what my world would call engineers, will be more important than the Questors are. They are, after all, the ones who have to turn the ideas the Questors come up with into machines that the rest of us can use."

"I never thought about it that way," Terys said reflectively, "but of course you're right. For anything new to be used, someone has to make it in the first place." She turned to Garia. "Now, dear, what do you have planned for the rest of the morning? Shall you come with me back to our sitting room for some pel? After our talk yesterday and after the meeting yesterday evening I have some questions, I'm sure you will appreciate that."

"Ma'am, that sounds a good idea. Is it a little early after breakfast for pel, though?"

"Mistress." Trailing unobtrusively behind the group the whole time, un-noticed, had been Kenila, Varna and Jenet. It was Kenila who now interrupted the conversation. "Mistress, remember you asked me to arrange for a visit to the salon this morning."

"So I did, Kenila, thank you for reminding me. Your Majesty, with your permission?"

"Of course. You are having something done about your hair, I suppose? I've been wondering about it these last few days. It's a little short for my tastes but curiously seems to suit your face, even as unkempt as it now is."

"Yes, Ma'am. I want to tidy it up at the very least, before I decide what style I want it to be. That's going to be difficult. In my world, boys' hair was cut very differently than girls' hair, and I don't know much about girls' or womens' styles either there or here."

"Do what you wish, my dear, it's your hair. You are happy for Jenet to take you? I know you asked Kenila but with Jenet back on duty she should be the one you consult now."

"That's fine with me, Ma'am."

Terys paused briefly, thinking about something, then added, "Call for me if you have any trouble, dear. I'll see you at lunch, then."

Garia and Jenet curtseyed and watched the Queen sweep off along the corridor with Keren.

"Lead the way, Jenet."

They eventually came to a long, narrow room that Garia immediately labeled barber shop. There were six chairs of which four were filled, a footman having a hair cut, another male servant being shaved, a serving girl having her waist-length hair trimmed and an older woman having something done to her face at the same time as another assistant filed and trimmed her nails. Overseeing the whole room was a plump woman dressed in a lavender cotton dress with a white apron over it, walking up and down, issuing instructions and generally impeding the progress of all the assistants. She turned sharply as Garia and Jenet entered.

"Yes?"

Jenet said, "Mistress Shelda, this is Mistress Garia. She -"

"Oh! Take the mistress through to the other room. I'll join you shortly."

Garia and Jenet walked the length of the room and found themselves in an adjoining room, fitted out similarly but furnished to a much higher standard. Garia guessed that they had gone in the servants' entrance before and wondered whether Jenet had done it accidentally. They stood waiting just a few seconds before the overseer joined them.

"How can I help you, Mistress? I'm sorry, there may be a delay before I can get to you, I'm awaiting a special guest of the King. Will you take a seat while you wait?"

"Actually," Garia said, "that would be me. I'm the guest of the King."

Shelda gave her a look of intense irritation. "I don't think so, Mistress. You're just a girl! Now, no more back-chat from you, please, just sit over there until I sort the King's guest out and then I can give you my undivided attention." Her eyes narrowed as she finally took in the state of Garia's hair. "However did you get your hair like that? Have you been fighting? Why hasn't your governess kept you properly under control? Who is your governess, anyway?"

And so it begins. Who is going to take much notice of a teenage girl anyhow? I've got to get some ground rules laid down here or I'll never get anywhere.

"Mistress Shelda, was it? I am the guest of the King that you are expecting."

"Such impertinence! Sit down there, girl, and stay quiet before I call a Guardsman to take you away."

"Jenet."

"At once, Mistress."

Jenet divined immediately what was needed and walked quickly from the room.

"Hey! You!" Shelda called after her. "Get back here this instant!"

The curious staff in the other room just watched Jenet run past them, making no attempt to stop her. Garia walked over to one of the chairs placed at the back of the room for waiting clients and sat down to wait.

"I asked you a question, Mistress, who is your governess?"

Garia gave her a superior smile. "My maid has gone to fetch her," she said, and then turned her face and ignored the woman. Shelda huffed and then left the room to go and harangue her assistants in the other one. It was a few minutes before a clattering and subdued murmurs told Garia that help had arrived. She stood and looked through the door to see Terys, Jenet and Kenila arriving. The staff were all bowing and curtseying. Terys smiled at seeing Garia through the doorway.

"Garia, my dear! Is Shelda serving you well?"

"Ma'am." Garia curtseyed. "I'm sorry to interrupt whatever you were doing. It seems that Mistress Shelda has difficulty understanding my status in the palace."

"I wondered if this might happen, my dear, which is why I'm here now to correct the misunderstanding." Terys turned to a pale Shelda. "Mistress Garia is a stranger to Palarand, Shelda, and for peculiar reasons which do not concern you she is staying here in the palace as a guest of the King and myself. Indeed, her status is temporarily that of the royal household, and you should treat her as if she were one of my own daughters. Is that clear?"

"As you command, Your Majesty." Shelda was completely subdued, having effectively been admonished in front of her own staff. Garia wondered if she would take it out on them later, after all, such people often did in her own world.

"Furthermore," Terys continued, "because she is a stranger to our customs and fashions she may not wish to be styled as you might style other girls of her age. Therefore, you are to do exactly as she requests, no more and no less, is that understood?"

Mistress Shelda's eyes flicked to Garia before returning to the Queen. "I understand, Your Majesty."

She curtseyed as the Queen and her maid turned and departed the salon. Then, she licked her lips and approached Garia nervously, curtseying again.

"Mistress, forgive me, I was not properly informed."

"Mistress Shelda, there is nothing to forgive, merely a misunderstanding." Garia stood. "Now, we have hair to fix. Where would you like me to sit?"

Garia was shown to a chair facing a mirror, no different to any male or female hairdressing establishment on Earth except that the mirror was polished metal. She examined her reflection and wondered what she was going to do with her hair, given the circumstances.

I have another decision to make, one that is totally unexpected, one that might have as many consequences as what we talked about last night, but in a totally different direction.

Do I want to blend in or stand out?

I wish I'd realized this was coming, I could have spent a little time thinking about it rather than just going round in circles on the other thing. Now I've got to make up my mind with this woman standing here waiting for me to say 'boo'.

If I blend in, then effectively I'm saying that I intend to be no different than any other Palarandian (huh? wonder what they say?) girl. Looking at the face in the mirror, I might just get away with standing out in a crowd even so. Would have helped to have been nine inches taller, though. Having said that, I've hardly met a big sample of the population yet, have I? There are probably women out there I haven't met yet who are going to make me grind my teeth and go green with envy.

What the heck am I saying? I'm a boy... no, I'm not, am I? Not any more. I'm going to have to come to terms with looking at life from a totally different direction, aren't I?

"Mistress?" Shelda stood behind Garia but they could see each other in the mirror. "Do the women where you come from all cut their hair short like this?"

"Um, no, they don't. Um, I mean, hair styles there can be as long as those here or quite short or anything in between, but my hair isn't really very representative. It's been left to grow for a while since I began traveling here." Fudge, fudge. "I know it's not very tidy, I'm trying to decide what to do with it."

"Do you wash it every day, Mistress?"

"Yes, when I bathe every morning. That's no good, is it?"

Of course, they won't have all the shampoos and conditioners like we have at home, will they?

"No, Mistress, it's too drying, especially at this time of year. It'll look a lot better once the rainy season starts. I have something here that might help, I'm surprised your maid hasn't suggested it."

"Um, my days at the palace so far have been a bit chaotic," Garia told her. "I'm not surprised something like that got overlooked. What have you got?"

Shelda turned and called to an assistant in the other room. "Sardin, fetch me a sealed bottle of karzal-nut oil from the store, will you? Immediately, please." She turned back to the mirror. "The oil I'm going to give your maid is a very light oil, and you only need a tiny amount each morning so it won't feel like your hair has gotten greasy or anything like that. She will know how and when to apply it. It will make your hair very shiny, Mistress."

I wondered how they did that, now I know.

"Have you a means of slightly dampening my hair, please?" Garia asked. "And a comb? I'd like to see what it might look like done several ways."

"Certainly, Mistress." Shelda went away and returned with a device like a large metal syringe with a little shower head at the end. This was charged from a bowl of water and the fine spray dampened down Garia's hair.

Each morning after bathing Jenet had dried Garia's hair and brushed it with a center parting. This had initially felt strange to Garia who, as Gary, had side-parted it all his life. At the back it had been collar-length and it had certainly started to cover his ears but he had made sure that the result was always tidy and trimmed. Now, center-parted, one side was longer than the other and it made Garia's face seem lop-sided. The internal discussion resumed as Shelda produced a silver comb and handed it to Garia.

I think I want to stand out, really. That might be the only way to get people to pay attention to me, to see me as an exotic visitor rather than 'just another teenage girl'. That way people will know I come from somewhere else entirely and won't try and judge me by their own standards.

Possible future benefit: I won't want long hair if I can get some progress on practising my defense moves, it will all get in the way.

Heh, that never stopped Lara Croft now, did it? She had a plaited pony-tail, if I remember correctly.

Screw that. If I want to try out long hair, I can do that later. For now, short is looking like a better option since nobody here wears theirs short.

So, what kind of short hair-do do I want? To start with, it's going to be limited to what I have available.

She combed the damp hair to either side with a parting straight down the middle.

Nope, too severe. How did girls at school do their hair? All kinds of ways! None of which I paid the slightest attention to. Sheesh. Why is it I need to know all the things now that didn't remotely interest me then?

Bangs. Try bangs.

She found a line just behind the hairline and started combing forward, leaving a strange wavy edge to the fringe.

Hmm. It has possibilities. Okay, what to do about the sides. What do they call it? A pixie cut? Nope, I think that would be a bit too radical here even for me. Let's try something longer, then if it looks off I still have enough left to try and rescue it. How about...

"Mistress Shelda? I think I have an idea, but I want to make sure that if it goes wrong I can change it, know what I mean?"

"I think so, Mistress. What did you have in mind?"

"Can you cut the front straight across my forehead, just level with my eyebrows? From here to here?" Garia indicated with a finger. "I think it needs to start a little further back than I just combed it though."

"I can do that for you, Mistress. Are you sure? Some of the young ladies do have bangs, but usually girls much younger than you."

"Yes please. You'll see when I've finished."

Shelda took a cape from a hook on the wall and wrapped it round Garia to protect her clothing. With the comb she took another line over Garia's head from ear to ear and combed more hair forward. The result looked better. She carefully cut across from the outside edge of one eyebrow to the outside edge of the other, brushing the clipped hair away from Garia's face.

"Is that what you wanted, Mistress?"

"That looks good. Right, the next step is something you probably haven't done ever before. I want you to cut all the hair that's dangling down, exactly horizontally and in line with the back of my jawline." Garia demonstrated with a flattened hand what she wanted.

I know nothing of how this is done normally. I just hope I don't goof it up.

"Are you sure, Mistress? It seems a little unusual."

"I think so. We won't have finished when you've done that, though, there's more to follow."

Shelda, trying not to flinch and trying not to cut Garia either, tentatively started clipping from one side and then carried on round the back, stepping back from time to time to see if the bottom edge was level. Garia for her part tried hard to keep her head still and horizontal.

"This is... interesting, Mistress. Is it your intention for so much of your neck to be showing? Is that what you want?"

It'll be a new experience for me, but I'm not going to tell the old trout that, am I? Besides which, one thing I do know is that girls with short hairstyles have necks every boy is going to want to kiss.

Wait a moment, did I really just think that?

"Yes, that's exactly right, Mistress," Garia replied, trying hard not to nod.

"Do you want these side pieces shortened, Mistress? They don't look right sticking out like that."

"Leave them for the moment, please. We can trim them up later if need be."

"As you command, Mistress. You said there was more to do?"

Yes. I have this picture in my mind of what I want it to look like, but I'm not now or ever have been a hairdresser and I don't have a clue how they did that. Hairdressers generally get treated with disrespect, even contempt, but I'm beginning to understand that there's as much science and craft in it as there is in making jewelry.

I can see Kelly Baines in my mind's eye. She has this hairdo I always liked because I thought it made her face look even cuter. Of course it might not look so good on me. Me, cute? What the heck am I thinking? What the heck am I doing to myself?

Focus, dammit!

"Um, now, you see how there's a lot of hair at the bottom, where you cut it? The idea is now to take away in layers from underneath, to allow the outside edge to curl in."

Shelda inspected the work done so far. "I think I get the idea, Mistress. Do you mind if I only take a little at a time? I've never attempted anything like this before."

"Go ahead."

After a number of attempts and one blunder which nearly resulted in a nick being taken out of one of her ears, Garia was almost satisfied with the result. She studied herself in the mirror.

I'm not sure this is entirely what I had in mind. Dammit, I look like a Japanese schoolgirl!

She had to try and avoid cracking up as she thought of the effect she would make walking about the palace dressed for the part. One of her ears was more visible than the other, a result of moving from a side to a center parting, but even so both were mostly covered and in a few weeks both would be completely hidden.

Calm down, there. What you look like now is way better than when you walked in here. Now you need to have a baseball bat to hand to keep the admirers off. She groaned internally. I'm going to need a pry bar to separate myself from Keren, aren't I?

Whose brilliant idea was this, anyway?

"Now we need to rub a little of the oil in, Mistress. That should make your hair sit properly as well as giving it shine. I must say, I'm not used to seeing a style a short as this but it definitely suits your face."

The oil darkened her hair and made it shiny, making the Japanese schoolgirl effect even stronger. Garia moved her head from side to side to check the effect in the mirror and had to admit to herself that she definitely looked hot. Of course, the locals, used to long hair either worn long or elaborately piled on the head might not think so. On the other hand, that was exactly the effect she wanted, to stand out from the crowd.

"Thank you, Mistress Shelda," Garia said, brushing stray hairs from her hands as she stood. "I'm sorry about the mix-up at the beginning but I think you've made a good job of my hair despite our poor start."

Shelda curtseyed. "Thank you, Mistress. I should have paid more attention to the messenger. You will want to maintain your style?"

"I think so. I'm sure I or Jenet here will know when it needs your attention again."

Jenet led Garia through the palace corridors towards the dining room. It was a little early but there was usually someone there standing around she could talk to while she was waiting, so she didn't mind. What she did mind was that every male head snapped round to follow her as she passed. At first this disturbed her but then she started appreciating it, although she was very careful not to acknowledge any of the stares she received.

So this is how they all do it, she thought. I didn't realize I could do it as well. I'm going to have to be even more careful in future how I respond to attention.

What was more difficult to take were the hard stares she received from every female she passed.

Oh, God. Please don't tell me this is how the whores wear their hair!

Ouch. Well, ultimately there was only ever going to be one way to learn right from wrong.

"Jenet," she whispered after passing a large group of female servants, "is my hair-do satisfactory? I haven't made a big error, have I?"

"I don't think so, Mistress. It's certainly unusual, that's why everyone is looking at it. I don't think anyone in Palarand has ever had their hair cut that way before." Jenet smiled. "Actually, I think it suits your face perfectly, Mistress. I bet that a lot of the younger women are going to think hard about having their hair cut the same way once they see you."

"My hair's not like, um, the ladies of ill-repute?" To Jenet's blank stare she clarified, "I mean, like a prostitute?"

"What? Maker, no, Mistress! Not at all! Oh, I understand your worry now, Mistress. No, have no fears on that account. If there had been any similarity at all like that I would never have let you out of the salon. No, your style is unique. And wonderful."

"Oh, thank you, Jenet! You're such a friend." Garia grabbed Jenet's hand briefly as they resumed walking.

They entered the dining room and were instantly the center of attention. In particular, Gerdas was there and he made a bee-line for the pair, surprise complete on his face. He bowed low before them.

"Mistress! You look amazing!"

"Master Gerdas. I must apologize, I had already arranged to have my hair seen to and I forgot to tell you at breakfast. I hope you haven't been standing here waiting for me all this time?"

"No, Mistress, I have had a profitable chat with Captain Bleskin, as it happens." Gerdas checked the as-yet sparsely populated room to ensure that they couldn't be overheard. "He is willing to let me use one of their telescopes tonight, from one of the palace watch towers. He confesses curiosity no less than mine as to what we might see. As the telescope would remain within the palace, and under his control, so to speak, he considers that there would be no harm done. We will, of course, obtain the permission of the King before we proceed." He brightened. "Might you join us, Mistress? I would be interested in your opinion on whatever might be visible." He sighed, then, and added in a much lower voice. "Mistress, if I had but been thirty years younger. Your presence will slay any man who sets eyes on you."

Garia's face blushed under the honest compliment.

"Thank you, Master Gerdas. It is difficult for me to appreciate fully the effect my new body has on everyone around me. As to joining you tonight, I think I may need to take advice. Watch tower sounds a place that might not welcome garb such as this." She brushed her hands down the front of her delicate gown. "I would like to make the attempt, though." She paused, considering. "You'll have to understand, though, that I am no expert on what we might see, I'm merely an older child who has managed to absorb various odds and ends I've heard over the years. I should not be considered an authority by any means. With that proviso, though, and assuming that it were possible, I think I would like to join you."

Gerdas beamed with pleasure. "So be it, then. Mistress, we have a time before lunch, shall we sit? I would like you to tell me of your own, what did you call it yesterday, solar system. That will give me something to compare our own discoveries against."

Garia gave him an uncertain smile. "Why not, Master Gerdas. I'm not sure I can tell you much, though."

The two found a pair of vacant chairs and sat. Garia started describing the different planets in order, telling Gerdas as much as she could remember about the characteristics of each. He questioned how her people could have found out so much and she told him about some of the interplanetary probes mankind had sent out into the void. This ability impressed Gerdas even more.

Their attention was diverted when Captain Bleskin walked into the room for lunch. Gerdas waved him over and suggested to him that Garia should join them that night.

"Aye, why not, Master Gerdas? It would make sense to have the resident expert with us for our vigil." Bleskin turned to Garia. "Mistress, you look remarkable. I would not have believed that your beauty could have been improved, it is clear that I was mistaken." Garia blushed again, but compliments from much older men could be considered relatively safe given the circumstances.

Bleskin continued, "As to your joining us, however, I should warn you that I intended to take Master Gerdas to the highest tower of the palace, in order to have the most unobstructed view. The way is steep and not intended for the ladies of the court." He gave her a grin. "You may not consider that a challenge, Mistress, after your exploits of the other night on the cloister roof, but you may wish to choose different attire."

Garia grinned back. Bleskin was the sort of man one couldn't help liking. "Maybe, Captain. This time I shall be forewarned and better prepared. I think I shall need to consult Mistress Yolda."

The tables were laid and then more people appeared. Terys stopped so suddenly in the doorway on seeing Garia that Varna collided with her. Shortly afterwards Robanar and Keren appeared and headed straight for the center of attention.

"Mistress Garia!" Robanar greeted her. "Is this the way all women on your world wear their hair? It looks amazing on you."

"Not at all, Your Majesty." Garia curtseyed while blushing yet again. "It's not even a common style but not that unusual either. It was the best I could do considering the length."

"Mistress," Keren said hesitantly. "You're not making it easy for us, you know."

"It was not my intention, I can assure all of you," she explained. "I just wanted something practical and something tidier than it was when I came here." But subconsciously she was pleased that she had had an effect on Keren. For some reason his reaction caused its own reaction somewhere inside her.

During the meal Garia explained to Robanar the proposition Gerdas had made, without making any public mention of such things as telescopes. Robanar sounded interested enough to declare that he might join them assuming nothing untoward happened during the rest of the day to distract him. He appeared to indicate that whether Garia went or not was her own decision. Terys was noticeably more reluctant to approve the idea but when it was explained to her that Garia could hardly be in safer hands she relented. Garia raised the matter of attire and the Queen sent a footman to detain Yolda at the end of the meal.

"Mistress Yolda," Garia began when they met afterwards. "I have been invited by Master Gerdas and Captain Bleskin to climb one of the palace towers tonight to observe the stars. I can hardly climb dressed as I am, is there something else available that might be more suitable?"

"I don't know, Mistress." She looked at Garia suspiciously through her pince-nez. "Do I know you, Mistress?"

"Of course. I was originally in the Lilac Chamber, then you moved me to Elizet's suite."

"Ah, yes, Mistress Garia. I have not seen you since I measured you when you arrived here, you look somewhat different."

"I have had my hair cut this morning, Mistress."

"Ah. An interesting and unusual style, Mistress. What did you have in mind, Mistress? I do not understand what it is you intend to do."

"Captain? What are we going to do?"

"There are narrow stairs," Bleskin explained to Yolda. "Chambers which are kept less clean than those in the main part of the palace. The final climb will be steep steps, not stairs, but not rungs like a ladder. I would advise a dark summer-weight cloak as well, it may cool down quite quickly."

"I'm going to need some better footwear, I think, to start with," Garia added. "These satin slippers are going to be no good. Perhaps low boots like the Captain is wearing. As for the rest, I don't know what you might have that would be suitable."

Yolda pursed her lips. "I have nothing suitable for a lady of the court to wear for such an expedition. Boots, yes, cloak, yes, but I cannot recommend a suitable gown, Mistress." The disdain was plain on her face. "Perhaps you should choose another activity, Mistress. I do not consider climbing the palace's towers a suitable use of a lady of the court's time."

"Now just a moment, Mistress Yolda," Bleskin said. Garia turned in amazement. Gone was the bluff, jovial palace courtier she had become familiar with, in his place a serious soldier well used to command and action. "I get to choose who climbs to the watch-tower, not the Mistress of the Wardrobe. See here," he waved his finger under her nose, "the presence of Mistress Garia is essential to this matter. I and my men won't care what she looks like up there, it'll be dark anyway. Just find her something practical to wear or I'll do it myself." He glared at Yolda, daring her to argue.

"Is there some problem, Captain, Mistresses?" The Queen had joined the conversation.

"Your Majesty," Yolda replied, "The mistress wishes to join Captain Bleskin and climb a tower tonight. Surely, this is not an appropriate activity for a lady of the court?"

"Mistress Garia is not a regular lady of the court," Terys replied. "She has special abilities and responsibilities." While Terys didn't actually approve of Garia's night-time outing she knew that there was more to it than just a young girl's fancy, but she couldn't explain any of that to the Mistress of the Wardrobe. "Yolda, just give her what she needs, will you? You can argue all you like but she'll get what she wants in the end, so save yourself some time and energy."

She turned to Garia. "Garia, it is time for our nap. You can go and organize some clothes for your outing afterward, when you're both refreshed."

"As you command, Ma'am," Yolda replied, but her face showed her disapproval. She curtseyed as Terys, Garia and their maids left the room then stood there watching with a thoughtful expression on her face.

"Mistress?" Bleskin asked Yolda, breaking her out of her introspection.

"Yes, Captain?"

"I trust you will find something suitable for Mistress Garia?"

"As you wish, Captain."

As Terys and Garia walked through the corridors the Queen remarked, "You may have some difficulty with Yolda, Garia."

"Ma'am, I half expected something. After this morning's problem at the salon I realized that nobody was going to take me seriously, they all saw me as 'just another girl'. That's one reason I had my hair done like this, to make sure people saw me as an outsider, someone they would have to take notice of. It's all very awkward, I don't want to have to keep pulling rank on people to get something done, and I really don't like involving you or the King to make things happen."

"That's true, my dear. I'm not sure styling your hair like that had quite the effect you were hoping for, though." Garia grimaced an agreement. "And I like it that you don't want to throw your weight around, that shows your better qualities. But that wasn't what I meant."

"Ma'am?"

"Yolda has been with the royal family of Palarand for a very long time," she explained. "She started working for Robanar's grandfather and her tastes have become somewhat... conservative, shall we say. In particular, she has an expectation of the way a lady of the court should behave, and that does not include climbing towers. Or, I suspect, a number of the other things you are likely to want to do in the future."

"Yes, Ma'am. I know people at home exactly like that."

"Now, while I can't say that I will be happy about everything you might wish to do, and I have a duty to look after you while you are here at the palace, I do recognize that your life before you came here was completely different than what you now face, and you are going to want to do things that most of us are going to find completely strange. That's why I wasn't happy when Bleskin mentioned the tower. Something like that is entirely outside my experience and it is natural for me to be concerned when a young girl - to every appearance - wants to do something like that. Do you understand?"

"Oh, yes, Ma'am. I completely understand. In your place, I would feel the same, I think."

"Yes. Thank you. But I'm not sure Yolda is going to be quite so accommodating. I do not wish to cause conflict in the palace, so let me think about a suitable way of handling her, will you?"

"Ma'am, she works for you, not for me. Tell me what to do and I'll do it."

"Good girl. Now, here's your door, I'll see you on the balcony."

"Ma'am? Might there be others in the palace like Mistress Yolda?"

Terys turned, her face thoughtful. "Quite likely, my dear. I will think about that also."

After another awkward encounter with the Mistress of the Wardrobe Garia has to cope with the appearance of a murder victim's body followed by the return of some familiar faces.

Somewhere Else Entirely

by Penny Lane

12 - Afternoon Arrivals

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.

---

Still stretching after her nap, and trying to conceal a yawn, Garia entered the royal sitting-room by the door from the balcony. Her nap had refreshed her considerably, a fact that surprised her. After all, back in Kansas Gary had never taken an afternoon nap at all. At school it wasn't possible and there was too much happening on other days. Besides, Gary had never felt the need for a nap, but then the weather wasn't like it was here either. They had siestas in Mexico and around the Mediterranean, perhaps it was appropriate to take a mid-day break here in Palarand.

"Your Majesty."

"Garia," Terys acknowledged. "I've been thinking about your problem earlier today, and I have written something simple that you can take with you until everyone becomes familiar with you."

Terys held out a small square of parchment and Garia took it. Of course the squiggles on it meant nothing to her.

"Ma'am, I can't read it, I'm sorry. I can speak your language, but I can't yet read or write it."

"Oh! No, I suppose you can't, can you? I'll read it to you, then."

Terys retrieved the document and read out loud.

By decree of Queen Terys of Palarand.

To any member of the palace staff. Let it be known that the bearer, Mistress Garia, is a special visitor to Palarand from the State of Kansas. She is currently residing in the palace and her status is that of a member of the Royal Household. Her customs are different than those of Palarand and she may request goods or services not normally associated with a person of her age and status. Please treat her requests as though they were my own.

Terys, this 31st day of Keruvil in the year 1174 since the Great Flood

"Your Majesty!" Garia protested. "I can't possibly accept that! It's far too powerful a document!"

"And that's why I worded it that way, dear. I consider you to be a properly responsible person, and I know that you won't abuse this document like another might." Terys handed the document back and Garia took it gingerly.

"My dear," the Queen explained, "You had some trouble this morning and I can see this happening almost every time you meet someone new within the palace grounds. This slip will just make things a little easier for you until they become used to you. You will be careful with it, won't you?"

"Of course, Ma'am. Like you said earlier, I don't like throwing my weight around, and any time I wave this under someone's nose they're not going to like it. I don't want to fill the palace with my enemies, I guess I have enough of those already."

"Good." Terys nodded. "You do understand, then."

"Ma'am, it's all about trust, isn't it? I trust you, and I trust the King and Keren, I mean Prince Keren. For that to work properly, you have to be able to trust me in return. I want to make sure I never abuse that trust. Anyone else in the palace? Well, I'll have to take them as I find them. Didn't work out too well in Morlan's case, did it?"

Terys's face clouded. "That was unfortunate. Morlan has been a loyal servant of the crown for many years, it was only your unexpected arrival which caused him to stray. We don't yet know if he did stray, of course."

"True, Ma'am. Um, Ma'am, what will happen to the body when it arrives?"

"The healers will make it presentable for the funeral, dear. That usually involves cleaning the body and dressing it in fresh clothes. In this weather the funeral will probably be tomorrow or the day after."

Hmm. No thought of doing any forensic-type testing. Why not? Whoever it is, he's a murder victim, a crime has been committed.

"Um, Ma'am? I wonder, would it be possible for me to look at the body before the healers start? It is possible that we might find clues to what happened to him. Once he's been cleaned up all those clues will be washed away."

Terys shuddered. "Why would you want to do that, child? Death is bad enough without having to look over corpses when you don't have to."

Garia told her what she wanted to do, and explained that much might be learned from a body in such cases as a murder or where the cause of death was uncertain.

"Goodness, child! Yet again you surprise me. This is something you should mention to the King when we meet him later. Very well, I'll send word to the healers, when the body arrives I will have someone fetch you. What are you planning to do this afternoon?"

Garia gave a wry smile. "I must tackle Mistress Yolda, I think, Ma'am. I would like to get that problem out of the way, at least."

"You have my best wishes, dear."

Garia gave the document to Jenet for safe-keeping and the two headed off to find Mistress Yolda. In a far corner of the palace they located her office but she was not there. Instead they had to search through several wooden huts which filled the courtyard next to her office, eventually finding her talking to a number of her subordinates, women who presumably cut and sewed the clothing and other materials needed for the palace and its inhabitants.

"Mistress Yolda."

"Mistress Garia. I regret, I still do not think that I can provide anything suitable for you to wear tonight."

"Why ever not? I see people around you wearing clothes that would probably be suitable."

"But they are servants, Mistress. You cannot wear clothing fit only for servants."

Ooooh! Garia closed her eyes until the red mist faded. "Mistress Yolda," she said carefully, afraid that she might start shouting, "The clothing I will wear tonight will be suitable for the purpose and nothing else. If that means that I will wear a servant's dress then that is what I will do. If it also means that I will wear a Guardsman's cloak and boots I will do that also. Am I clear?"

Yolda looked resentfully at Garia. Around her, the seamstresses expressions ranged from guarded to surprise to shock at someone speaking to their superior in such a fashion, especially someone so young. Some took a step back, to try and dissociate themselves from the argument, others leaned forward to catch the words.

"Mistress, this cannot be right," Yolda said. "It flies in the face of custom. How can a lady of the court wear such things?"

"Easily, Mistress Yolda. My shape is no different than that of any woman my age, whatever her status. Just watch me. Besides which, no-one's going to see much of it in any case, I'm going to be wearing a cloak over it, aren't I?"

Yolda shook her head, but she said, "As you command, Mistress," in a low voice and turned away. "Come with me, I will need to get your measurements from the office."

They walked back to the office and Yolda found Garia's measurements filed away in one of thousands of pigeonholes which covered three of the office's four walls. She sat at the desk, thinking, while Garia and Jenet stood waiting, then finally said, "Mistress, I have an idea. Come with me."

Yolda led them to another hut which was crammed with clothing on rails. She pushed her way through the stock until she found a rail of dark blue dresses similar to that Jenet was wearing. It took a while before she found one of a suitable size and pulled it out. Garia saw that it was of a sturdier material than that which Jenet was dressed in but otherwise similar in style.

"Mistress, these are used by the palace staff when the buildings are cleaned in spring and fall. They are shorter than those gowns you have in your dressing room because the servants must climb stepladders to clean the upper parts of the chambers. You are short enough that it may not matter, but if it makes you uncomfortable I can supply leggings to fit you."

Garia nodded. "That looks as though it might be suitable. Although, why can't I just have a dress like Jenet here?"

"Mistress, the skirt would be too long to climb ladders in. Will you try this one on for size?"

What the heck. Have to start somewhere. "Yes, I think I will."

There were changing rooms near the office and Jenet helped Garia out of her summer-weight gown and into the servant's dress. The skirt was quite full but came to just below her knee. Garia discovered then that the servant's dresses were different to her own, instead of back lacing these dresses had wrap-around ties.

Typical male observation pattern. Why didn't I notice that before? Jenet, Varna and Kenila have all stripped off to bathe enough times I ought to have noticed. This is all going to take me time to adjust, isn't it? I hope eventually it'll become second nature.

Look at this thing I'm wearing. It's weird, I never wore a dress till a week ago and now I feel strange because the hemline on this one is higher than I've become used to. Used to! And it's quite a bit thicker than those I've been wearing up till now, as well. Am I going to get too hot tonight?

She thought carefully about the circumstances of her outing that night and decided that it would probably do, but she would also need something on her legs for purposes of modesty. She would probably end up too hot but that would be better than being too cold and way better than giving guardsmen a peep show as she climbed the ladders.

"Mistress Yolda, I'll take it, and I'll need something to put on my legs, please. It may get cold when we are on top of the tower."

"Very well, Mistress. You also need some boots and a cloak, you said."

"That's right."

"The cloak is easy, Mistress, I may have to hunt for footwear."

"Again, Mistress Yolda, it doesn't matter what they look like providing they do the job. Which is to protect my feet as I climb to the tower, and to walk around the tower at night."

A cloak and boots were provided and Yolda made a note of what had been issued on a piece of parchment which she clipped to Garia's measurement sheet. She went off again and returned with leggings.

Now, those look different. Woolen, knitted. Not very even. She fingered the material. Of course, everything has to be knitted by hand around here, doesn't it? Hmm.

"Mistress, thank you for finding these but I think that they, together with this thick dress, are going to be too much in this heat. Have you anything lighter? Like, say, those tights the guardsmen wear? They'll protect my modesty just as well as these would."

Yolda looked as though she had chewed a wasp but took back the leggings and disappeared again, this time for much longer than previously. She returned with a pair of much thinner tights in the brown-rust of the guard colors. Garia could tell immediately that they would be just right. She still tried them on for size and fit before emerging from the changing room in her original clothes.

Crap. I can't climb that tower on my own, can I? I have to have a chaperone...

"Ah, Mistress Yolda," Garia said as she finished. "I'm going to need the same for Jenet here, aren't I? She'll have to climb the tower with me, after all."

As Yolda bustled grumpily away to fill the duplicate order Garia turned to Jenet.

"I'm sorry, Jenet, I just didn't think, either about the original invitation or about asking you if that was all right with you. Do you think that you can manage?"

"I don't see why not, Mistress. I have done some of those cleaning jobs Mistress Yolda mentioned, I can't imagine this will be much different. And a maid will go wherever her mistress goes, so don't worry about me."

Garia's eyes narrowed as she thought about what Jenet had just said, but she made no comment then. At some point soon, she was going to have a quiet talk with Jenet, a talk she suspected would be full of confusion and misunderstanding on both sides given their respective backgrounds.

A footman appeared at the office door.

"You are Mistress Garia?" Garia nodded. "The Chamberlain said I'd find you here, Mistress. His message is that a certain cargo has arrived, and that I am to conduct you to the chamber where it is being... put."

"Uh, yes, thank you. We're waiting for Mistress Yolda to come back with some clothes, will you wait with us?"

"Of course, Mistress." The man appeared puzzled that he should do anything else.

The three waited until Yolda returned, and then Garia insisted that Jenet try on everything to ensure it all fitted properly. Finally, back in their original clothes they took their departure, Yolda saying that the outfits would be delivered to Garia's suite during the afternoon.

The footman took them to another part of the palace, behind the kitchens, where there were rooms cooled by ice brought from the mountains to keep produce fresh until needed. A side chamber was permanently reserved near these for storing and preparing bodies before whatever disposal was practiced in this world. Waiting for them in front of the doorway were Robanar, Keren, Kendar, Gerdas and Margra together with two other woman healers wearing waxed full-length aprons over their normal clothes.

"Mistress Garia," Robanar greeted her.

"Your Majesty," she replied, curtseying. "I apologize for the delay, we were with Mistress Yolda selecting suitable clothing for tonight."

Robanar nodded. "Aye, Mistress. I knew where you were and anticipated some delay." His brow furrowed. "I am not sure why you wish to view the body, it is not a pleasant experience for anyone not intimately involved in the circumstances. Master Gerdas here can confirm the identification of the body for legal purposes."

Garia explained briefly about the fact that clues might be found to help determine the sequence of events and the nature of the death, saying that it was normal in her world when the death was not from natural causes.

Margra nodded in agreement. "I have often wondered whether we could find out more in such cases, Sire," she said. "I would like to talk to Mistress Garia about such matters, if that is acceptable."

"It is acceptable, Mistress Margra," Robanar replied, then he grinned. "You'll have to join the crowd waiting to talk with her, I'm afraid. Now, shall we go in? Perhaps Mistress Garia can tell us what she might expect us to find."

The body had been laid out on a table and covered with a sheet. Margra pulled back the sheet at the head end and they all gathered round to look at the victim's face.

"That's Morlan, all right," Gerdas said, his voice low. "He may have been difficult to work with during life, he may have been a pain in the rear at times, but he was still a brilliant mind and he made significant contributions to the knowledge we possess." He shook his head. "I wonder what happened to him to make him come to this end?"

"I confirm that this is the body of Master Morlan, the Royal Questor," Robanar said formally. He looked at Garia. "What is your pleasure, Mistress?"

Garia looked at the pale face exposed above the sheet. There was no expression there, no hint of what he was thinking or doing when he met his end. Part of her was glad that she would not have to struggle against him any longer, part of her was sad that a human being was no longer there any more. She had seen a body once before, on Uncle Brad's farm, one of the hands had been trampled by some spooked cattle so death wasn't entirely a stranger. Even so, she was uncomfortable standing by the body, her feelings thoroughly mixed. She mentally shook herself and focused on the task at hand.

"His clothes. Is it possible to tell from any stains where he's been? Can we take the sheet off, please?"

Morlan's full-length robe, worn over his black tunic and hose, was rumpled and covered with dust, presumably from where he had been dumped beside the road. A small area round the cuts at front and back where the murder weapon had entered and exited were stained with dried blood. There was no sign of any mud or vegetation that they could see. Next, she asked the healers to check the wrists and ankles to see if he had been restrained in any way with negative results.

"So, he wasn't obviously kidnapped, then," Robanar mused. "He might have known those he traveled with. Where was he going? The North Road is not the way anyone would go to reach Yod."

"Sire, that might have been a deliberate ploy to misdirect us," Garia said. "Without examining the spot where he was found we do not know that he was killed near there."

"What would examining the spot tell us, Mistress?"

Now, how much of CSI do I remember? How much is going to be relevant to these people?

"If he was killed there, Sire, there would be quantities of blood on the ground. In fact, I am surprised that there is so little on his clothes. There may be useful tracks of the murderers nearby. Indeed, very often the murder weapon is thrown away somewhere near the body. Where I come from, Sire, it is customary to leave any discovered body untouched and cordon off the area to ensure that any signs are left undisturbed until trained investigators can get there."

Robanar looked at her with interest. "Mistress, again you surprise us with ideas we would never have considered ourselves. This is something else for us to discuss another time." Garia understood the reference to 'later'. "Is there anything else we can gain from this examination, Mistress?" He waved a hand at the body.

"It's time to let the healers remove the clothing, Sire. If they could be retained a short while, we might examine them closely and find further clues. While we do that the healers can check the body for bruising which may be concealed by the clothes. Check his head. He may have been knocked unconscious before he was killed."

"Do you wish to watch the procedure, Mistress?"

Not a chance. I've seen enough of this body to give me nightmares for a month. Leave it to the experts. Let's get out of here.

"Um, no, Sire, I don't think so. The healers may as well do what they have to do." She turned, then stopped and turned back. "Wait! What is he carrying? That may tell us if he was killed by robbers, for example."

Robanar nodded at Margra and she gently searched the body, feeling for concealed items. There were none, only a purse attached to Morlan's belt alongside an empty knife scabbard. The purse was emptied on an adjoining table.

"My wallet!" Garia exclaimed. "And my watch! I'm glad to see that back. So, he did take them."

She picked up the wallet and opened it to find that it was empty. The watch had a crack across the glass but otherwise seemed intact. There was a tightly-folded parchment which, according to Gerdas, contained some lines of information that could only have originated from Garia. There were also a few local coins of different sizes and metals.

"Not a robbery, then, father," Keren said. "Even if they left those items of Garia's, they would have taken the money."

Robanar grunted. "A bad business. We still have no idea if he left deliberately, or was taken, or even if any of this is relevant at all. Let us go, and leave the healers to their unenviable task. Mistress, you may reclaim your belongings if you so wish."

Garia gathered up what was hers and the group filed out of the cold room. Robanar led the way back through the palace towards his parlor, where Garia realized that an informal inquest would take place.

"Sire," she asked as they walked, "what will happen to the body? Do you bury your dead here?"

"No, Mistress, we don't customarily bury bodies here in the Valley," he replied. "Although there is less flooding than in previous times there is still a risk of disease so the dead are usually consigned to the flames. These days it is more in the nature of a custom than a necessity. As the harvest season is starting there should be an ample supply of material for his pyre. He deserves a decent funeral, whatever else he may have done. You will join us for the occasion?"

"Of course, Your Majesty."

On the way a footman intercepted the party.

"Sire." The man bowed low. "Master Tanon and Mistress Merina are awaiting your pleasure in the Receiving Room. I am to tell you that they are successfully returned from Viridor."

Robanar raised his eyebrows. "Indeed? Tell them I will join them shortly." He turned to the group. "I had briefly forgotten their trip, I must admit." He gave Garia a wry smile. "We have been otherwise distracted these last few days, Mistress. Will you join us? After all, they may wish to find out what happened to you after they left."

The first three days which Garia has spent on Anmar had been in the company of Tanon, Merina and their wagon train over the mountains. Although it was before her Earth memory had returned enough of that time had remained to leave her with a warm feeling. She smiled at the King.

"Yes, Sire, I would like to do that. I owe them my safe arrival in Palarand, after all."

Robanar nodded. "As you wish, Mistress. Gerdas, what is your pleasure? You may come with us or I can ask Kendar to conduct you back to your quarters. Do you know Tanon? Our discussion may not be that interesting to you."

"I know Tanon, Sire," Gerdas replied. "He has connections in far places, useful for passing word with some of my astronomer acquaintances in distant lands. If I may decline, Sire. I can see that Mistress Garia will be spending time discussing more immediate and personal matters."

"Until dinner, then, Gerdas."

"Sire."

Robanar led Garia and Keren through the corridors and eventually the pair emerged from one of the doors beside the thrones in the Receiving Room. Everyone immediately bowed and curtseyed at the King's appearance in the room. Terys was already there, talking to Tanon and Merina, and when Robanar appeared she led their small group over to him and Garia.

"Your Majesty, Your Highness, Mistress Garia," Tanon greeted them. "Sire, I have to report the success of our venture. The proposed trading route has been agreed and both my business and your Treasury will benefit from the spices and other goods which will flow through Palarand in the future. The terms which I agreed are more favorable than I expected, but there is no harm in having a margin against possible future difficulties. Mistress, I shall not bore you with the details, with the King's permission I shall discuss in detail the treaties agreed upon at a later time."

Robanar's eyes had an eager light in them. "Aye, Master Tanon, we must do that." He turned to Garia. "There is more here than just a trade agreement, Mistress. There are important political and security implications also, that will make many of the coastal nations feel that much safer." He addressed Tanon again. "Master Tanon, in your absence much has happened. This young woman has turned my kingdom on its head, even in the few short days she has been with us."

"So it seems, Sire. The Queen has been trying to tell us some of the detail while we waited." He addressed Garia. "It is true, Mistress, someone tried to kidnap you? And Morlan is dead?"

Garia looked at Robanar, who said, "Both true, Tanon. Something else to discuss in private, I think."

Terys looked disheartened at the news that Morlan's death had been confirmed.

Merina was staring at Garia. "Mistress, you seem to have found your stride, I see. The style of your hair is unusual for Palarand, but goes perfectly with your face." Her eyes narrowed, remembering what Garia had told her she used to be. "How did you..."

Her sentence was cut off as Garia moved to embrace her.

"I'm glad you're back, Merina," she said as they hugged. "There's a great deal to tell you. There's a great deal to ask, as well," she added softly.

There were other groups waiting in the Receiving Room so Terys led them through the corridors to the parlor while Robanar dealt with the outstanding matters before joining them. Tanon couldn't disguise his excitement at the transaction he'd concluded but Merina, Silna and Jaxen all had their eyes fixed on Garia. The change they noticed since they had last seen her was readily apparent. They all took seats in the downstairs parlor and the maids were sent off to rustle up refreshments for Robanar's visitors.

"Sire, it seems that my apprehensions when we found this lovely young lady were justified," Tanon remarked. "If it is necessary, I will offer my apology to you and Her Majesty for being the cause of the problems that now seem to beset Palarand. How could I have known, Sire? What else could I have done?"

"Nothing at all, Tanon," Robanar assured him. "You did exactly right in my opinion. There are dangerous forces gathering around Palarand, and it is well that the focus of those forces is protected here within the palace."

Robanar proceeded to describe to Tanon and Merina exactly what had happened while they were traveling to and from Viridor. Morlan's disbelief, his apparent change of mind when Garia revealed the extent of her knowledge, the sudden appearance of the party from Yod, the abduction attempt, Morlan's disappearance and everything that followed. His narrative was backed up by explanations from Garia, Keren and Terys where needed. Through all of it Tanon and Merina sat amazed by what they had unwittingly started.

As Kenila served out pel and pastries Tanon finally said, "Unbelievable. To think that all that started when one of my men noticed a body on the mountainside." He looked at Garia. "Mistress, in retrospect I should have realized that you came from another world. Your clothing could not have come from anywhere I know on Anmar. I regret my imagination was not good enough to see it."

"How could you have known, Master Tanon?" she replied with a shrug. "Before my memory returned I had no idea who or what I was. I'm still not entirely sure now. That's something I'll have to think carefully about, but so far there hasn't been much time for thinking."

"I do not envy you having to do that, Mistress," he said. "What you represent is so far out of my experience that I doubt I can contribute much." He switched back to Robanar. "You intend to make use of Mistress Garia's store of knowledge, Sire? From what you have told us so far, I do not see that you have any other option."

"Aye, we will do that, and Mistress Garia is willing," Robanar told him. "The way ahead will be difficult for many, but the incident the other night has focused our attention on what is important. We are considering arrangements for how to manage this process in an orderly way. Mistress Garia has forewarned us of the troubles that the use of such knowledge caused on her own world."

Tanon nodded. "I can believe that, Sire. I cannot see that I can be of much use to you in this process, but I will always be available if you require it, Sire, just as on this latest venture of ours."

"You may be surprised," Garia told him. "Tell me, Master Tanon, how far is Viridor? How long did it take you to get there?"

Tanon looked at her with surprise. "Why, Mistress, I believe it is some seventy-five Marks. You know what a Mark is? Of course you do, you came with us through the mountains. Well, there is also a river crossing, a ferry, which makes the journey seem longer. It is thirty-nine Marks from Palarand to the ferry, about a day's journey for a loaded wagon pulled by a dranakh. If the ferry is there when we arrive, we cross and stop overnight on the other side, if not we remain this side and catch the first ferry the following morning. The journey from the ferry to Viridor will take us until the afternoon of the next day."

She thought a second or two. Seventy-five plus the width of the river, times five, divided by eight. Call it forty-eight miles or so. Piece of cake!

"Suppose I were to tell you," she said slowly, "that in my country a single loaded vehicle could take the entire contents of the six wagons I traveled with from the mountains, from here to Viridor in the time of a single bell? I assure you, your expertise will be of great use to us, Master Tanon."

Tanon's eyes were wide, as were those of the rest of the party. "But, Mistress, how can this be possible? A single bell? No dranakh can possibly go that fast, or pull that large a load! And what about the river? However fast you might be able to travel on land, rowing across the river will always take time."

Let's be gentle with him. "Master Tanon, the vehicles we use have no animals pulling them. The engines which move them are much stronger than any dranakh could possibly be. As for the river, we also have ferries, but again they are moved by engines not rowers, and can go much faster. Unless the river is exceptionally wide and deep here we wouldn't even need a ferry. We would simply put a bridge across."

"A bridge, Mistress?" Robanar asked sceptically. "The Sirrel is about five Marks wide at that point. Your people can make a bridge that can cross a span that wide? How?"

Garia shrugged. "It wouldn't be a single span, Sire, although there may be one or two bridges on Earth that are single spans as wide as that. No, we would put piles into the river bed and then put multiple spans on top. The bridge would be made of steel or steel and concrete. We have many like that."

Tanon objected. "I have no doubt you speak the truth, Mistress, but the cost? How can you justify such an enormous thing when we are hard put to run ferries profitably?"

Garia inclined her head in acknowledgment. "Yes, Master Tanon, you would be right. But, on Earth, my world, there would be many thousands of vehicles traveling to and from Viridor every day. Thousands every bell, come to that. Viridor is so close that there would be many who lived in one and worked in the other, so would make the journey every day. Both ways."

There was a stunned silence in the room. Even the maids had stopped, dimly aware that what they were hearing was simply incredible. The realization of the unbelievable future that might await them had simply paralyzed each mind. This young girl in front of them had just said that Viridor, a two day journey away, was so close to Palarand that people could work in one and live in the other! The sound of a cup being replaced in a saucer broke the spell.

"Mistress," Robanar said slowly, "I thought I understood what you represented, but I see that I am mistaken. We need to know much much more before we proceed, I think. Perhaps we should continue this discussion after dinner."

Garia knew what he referred to, so nodded. "Yes, Sire, I agree. May I suggest that Tanon join us? He has particular talents that will become useful, even if he doesn't realize that yet."

Tanon looked surprised. "Me? But, Mistress, I'm just a merchant. I don't see how any of this will affect me, at least in the short term. These marvelous vehicles of yours, it will be some years before we could make them, I imagine?"

"You undervalue yourself, Master Tanon. You run an import-export business. You run a successful haulage business, you have warehousing in several cities, you understand the economics of buying and selling, you know the markets you work in. Just the sort of talents Palarand will need in the future. Also, if I'm not mistaken, you run a side business obtaining news and intelligence from other countries for His Majesty, don't you?"

"Yes I... how did you work that out, Mistress?"

Garia replied, "You run several caravan routes into other countries. It's not hard to figure out. That marvelous vehicle, which we call a truck, is a long way off in your future, I doubt anyone here will see them. But there are alternatives which might not be that difficult for Palarand to build. That's something we have to discuss tonight."

Tanon's eyes looked glassy as he grappled with the hints that Garia had made. Robanar coughed to get everyone's attention.

"I suggest that we leave this subject for now, everyone. This afternoon I need to hear about the agreement which Tanon has engineered so that I can make the appropriate arrangements. Terys, would you like to take Merina and Garia to your sitting room? I'm sure that Mistress Garia has much to discuss with both of you."

"Of course, dear. Mistresses, let's leave the men to their treaties and retire."

For once Garia was glad to leave the men to their deliberations, even though having the thought itself gave her a jolt. Terys led her and Merina up the stairs to the private sitting room, the maids trailing behind.

"Your hair reminds me of something," Merina said after they had settled down. "I've seen something like that style once before, let me think. Oh, yes! It was many, many years ago, I had not long been married to Tanon. He wasn't the Master Trader he is now, he just had a couple of wagons and a few men, I traveled with them on one or two of his early expeditions. We went to, what was the name of that place? Davenarga, I think it was."

"Davenarga?" Terys asked. "Right out on the edge of the desert?"

"Yes, Ma'am, that's the place. Only this was so long ago, it wasn't on the desert's edge then. Anyway, we came across some Kittrins there, and the women had hairstyles much like Garia's. Of course it looked totally different on them as you can imagine."

"Kittrins, Mistress?" Garia asked. "I've heard the name mentioned but I don't know who or what they are."

"Naturally you wouldn't, Mistress. The Kittrin Empire is a group of large islands off the farther coast of Alaesia, well to the west. The people there are... strange. Their faces are very flat, their noses are small and their eyes are like this," she demonstrated by putting her fingertips to the outside edges of her eyes and pulling.

Chinese or Japanese? Perhaps I might get mistaken for one with this haircut, then.

Merina continued, "Their skins are completely black, black as soot. Even the desert nomads aren't as dark as the Kittrins are."

Whoa! Black Japanese? Weird or what? I won't get mistaken for those anytime soon.

"Their hair is very thick and straight so I think that sort of style is probably what most of them wear. The women, that is. The men's hair was very short, as I recall. Fancy me remembering that! Well, I said they were strange, I think it's to do with what they have on their islands. Or rather don't have. They don't have access to metals the way we do, so they are anxious to trade with us. There are some spices and exotic woods we trade for pots and knives and so on. Some exceptionally fine pottery. Their money is coins made from hard-baked clay, very finely made too."

"We very occasionally get one or two of them visiting Palarand," added Terys for Garia's benefit. "They are too far away to have much contact in the normal way but we do get the odd adventurer who's exploring what to them are exotic eastern lands. They're no trouble, we're quite content to let them wander about."

"Now, I know you didn't have a girl's hair style before you came here," Merina asked, "so what made you decide to have it cut that way? Any particular reason? Is this a style you are familiar with?"

"It is, Mistress," Garia said. "As you said, it's not how a boy would have his hair at home but it's one of a vast number of styles a girl might wear. I've been having trouble in the palace with people not taking my position seriously so I thought I'd better make sure I stood out. With my hair being short, I tried to find a style that I could tidy it into." She grimaced. "There was some difficulty when I went to the salon at first. Of course Mistress Shelda had never done anything like this before so it was an interesting experience. I nearly lost an ear-lobe."

"It's very pretty," Merina said, cocking her head. "Is that a style a young person would wear, or..."

"No, Mistress, I have seen women of all ages with something similar. Of course, every head is different so there are variations." A thought came to Garia. "You are not thinking of having your own hair cut into this style, Mistress?"

Listen to me! I'm discussing hair styles with other women, now!

"Seeing you, I wondered, yes. It looks eminently practical. I bet it takes you no time at all to wash, does it?"

Their talk evolved into an entirely feminine digression about hair, it's care and styling which Garia found surprisingly interesting. The talk came to an abrupt end when Kenila, Varna and Jenet all jumped to their feet at the same time. Terys raised an eyebrow.

"It seems, Mistresses, that we must prepare ourselves before the evening meal. I will assume that you have been invited, Merina."

"Thank you, Ma'am."

"It will make sense, especially if Tanon is to be included in this evenings special meeting."

Merina gave her an enquiring glance.

"We are setting up councils to manage Garia's knowledge," she explained. Merina nodded. "It looks like Tanon will be co-opted onto one of those councils."

Merina frowned. "I don't know, he has enough on his plate as it is. You know how long it takes just to sort out his accounts, what with all the currency conversions and so on. He's too busy, most of the time."

"I may have something that will help him with that," Garia said. "A new numbering system. Besides, he'll be on one of those councils, be very sure of that. Don't you realize, Merina, that he's going to become one of the richest people in Palarand? He's not going to pass up that opportunity."

"What are you talking about? He's rich enough as it is. What is there that will make him richer?"

"It would take too long to tell you now, Mistress. Let's go and get freshened up before we go down to eat. Ma'am, will it be all right if Merina comes to my suite?"

"If you wish, dear. Merina, would you rather return home and change?"

"I anticipated the possibility of a meal, Ma'am. If you're content with what I'm wearing now, I'll stay."

Garia led Merina the two doors down the corridor and into her own suite.

"My goodness! How ever did you come to be in here? This used to be Elizet's suite, didn't it?"

"Yes, I got moved here that night those men broke into my room. The King thought I'd be safer if I was nearer to their own quarters."

"My! You have gone up in the world."

Garia gave her a wry smile. "I'm not sure I deserve it, though. If you would like to go first in the bathroom, I can go in the dressing room and find something for myself to change into while I wait."

Finally, with everyone refreshed and as tidy as they could make themselves, they headed off to the dining room.

Garia's busy day continues with the inaugural meeting of the Inner Council and concludes with a night visit to the palace's highest tower. There she sees the city for only the second time, learns more about the palace's origins and introduces Gerdas to telescopes. The evening ends with a final surprise.

Somewhere Else Entirely

by Penny Lane

13 - The Die is Cast

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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After the meal had finished that evening and the various pleasantries concluded afterwards, a select group found their way to a meeting room deep in the palace. There were too many of them to fit into the King's parlor, his preferred venue, so they had to use one of the larger, more formal rooms which Keren explained to Garia were generally only used when the Dukes who ran much of Palarand came to call.

Joining Robanar, Terys, Keren and Garia were Captains Bleskin and Merek of the Palace Guard, the Royal Astronomer Gerdas in his capacity as temporary head of the Society of Questors of Palarand and Master Trader Tanon. All the maids and other servants had been dismissed and guardsmen stationed at every door and the ends of the corridor to ensure their privacy. They were all seated around a huge oval table which could comfortably have seated five times their number.

There was an additional person present, a youngish man whom Garia estimated would have been in his mid-twenties on Earth. His dress did not suggest that he was either a Questor or a Guardsman.

"This is Journeyman Scribe Pitchell," Robanar introduced him. "At the suggestion of my son I have asked him here to record our deliberations. He is a Quick Scribe, which means that he uses a special notation to write which is almost as fast as we can speak." As most of his audience were familiar with such people the King turned towards Garia. "He will convert his notes into proper script at a later date, Mistress."

Robanar now spoke to the scribe. "Master Pitchell, because of the nature of our deliberations, it would be seemly for you to be of a more appropriate status, and therefore I am raising you today to the degree of Master. I have spoken to your superior, and he agrees that you would be due the honor shortly were the circumstances any different." Pitchell gave a low bow towards his King. "You may find the task ahead of you a heavy one. I expect that another one or two scribes may be later appointed to take up the load. For now we will manage with your efforts alone."

Pitchell bowed again. "Thank you, Sire. You may rely on me, Sire."

"Then make ready, if you please, Master Scribe." Pitchell sat and picked up what looked like a pencil, ready to write upon a pile of parchment that was in front of him.

"Let us make a start, then." Robanar's attention encompassed all of them. "We have no established plan for how this is going to work, we'll have to make up some kind of procedure as we go along. Mistress, do you have any particular place you wish to start?"

Garia stood. "Sire, Ma'am, Your Highness, Masters. I have only had a short time to think about this, so you'll have to excuse me if I forget something. I think that what I will be able to tell you falls into one or more of three kinds of information. Firstly, Sire, you wished to learn more about the world that I come from. That's what I would call the modern world. I'm quite happy to tell you about the Earth I left, but I don't really know much about most of it except what I've read about or seen on the... um, learned by other means. The problem is that none of you will be able to understand most of what I can tell you to start with, because you have no background.

"Next, I can also tell you the background, that is to say I can give you our history. Some of it, at least. We're talking about a whole load of history here, probably three hundred years worth, and I don't know a lot of that either except what happened in the area I was brought up in. You do need to hear about the Industrial Revolution at least because that's what's going to affect Palarand in the next few years if you accept my help.

"Lastly, you all want to hear about the ideas and machines that make up my world, and how you can use them yourselves. Would you all agree with that?"

"Very well put, Mistress," Gerdas said. "You used a strange phrase there, 'Industrial Revolution'. Can you tell us what that means?"

"I'm not sure, Master Gerdas. It means..." Garia frowned in thought. The phrase had been used for centuries and everyone knew what it meant, but how could she explain it to people who didn't get what a revolution was? Okay, step back a bit.

"A revolution," she said, "as understood on Earth for these purposes, I guess means a complete upheaval in a society's normal functions. Some of our revolutions have been to overthrow kings and dictators." She caught the King's eye. "Sire, I suggest a separate session when I tell you about all those. You may find unsettling what I have to tell you. To answer Master Gerdas, the Industrial Revolution was basically the process where our society changed from a mainly agricultural one to one where most people live in cities and work in factories or offices. Um, put simply, I think it's when we started making heavy use of machinery to make our lives easier."

"I see," Robanar said. "And we must make this revolution, as you call it? We cannot just use the knowledge you bring to improve the society we have now?"

"Sire, the Industrial Revolution wasn't a thing planned by anyone beforehand. It's just the name given afterwards to what took place. It took a long time, as well, in fact, in some respects it is still happening back home. There are other things I can tell you about which don't involve heavy industry but even if I don't say anything the revolution will happen here eventually."

Robanar nodded. "I think I understand. What you are telling us is that this process is going to happen on Anmar whether you are involved or not. If you are not involved it will just take much longer."

"That's exactly it, Sire. Only, if it happens at its own pace then you'll probably make all the same mistakes we made."

"Ah! Yes, I see what you are suggesting, now, Mistress. If you tell us what happened on your own world then we can benefit from hindsight, as it were."

"Better than that, Sire. You may benefit by skipping years of experimentation and false leads."

The King nodded again. "I see that we are making the right decision by asking you to disclose your knowledge Mistress. I must ask, in front of us all, if you are content to give it of your own free will?"

"I am, Sire. But, as we discussed before, some of what I shall tell you must not go further than this chamber and those of us now here."

"I anticipated that we would need to do this," Robanar replied. "In order for this council to function properly and safely I must therefore ask you all to swear an oath of secrecy. I will swear this oath myself. If any person here does not wish to swear, they may depart now with no stain attached to their name."

There were general nods all round. No-one appeared ready to leave their seat. Robanar bent down and lifted from beneath the table an ornate cube-shaped wooden box, richly decorated with inlays. There was an intake of breath from Terys. Robanar lowered the sides of the box to show, nestling safely inside, a jewel-encrusted golden crown. He rested his hand on the top of the crown and spoke.

"I name this assembly the Council of the Two Worlds. Those here seated around it are the founding members of the Council. It is likely that there will be further members appointed, all will be asked to take an oath as we will now do.

"I swear, before all those here assembled, and on the Crown of Palarand, to keep the deliberations and decisions of this council secret, not to speak of them or otherwise disclose them by any means to any person not of this council. I swear to hold the things said here in silence in peril of my own life. So have I sworn."

"Heard and witnessed."

Everyone except Garia repeated the last phrase. It was apparently a standard response by those attending an oath-taking. She thought about the matter and decided that it could do no harm. As Robanar moved the box round the table in front of each person, they placed a hand on the crown and repeated the oath and Garia joined in the response. By circumstance she was the last person the King came to.

"Mistress, this council meets because of you," Robanar said. "I know that you do not, technically, need to join the council. We will hear whatever it is that you decide to tell us. I will not insist that you take the oath if you do not wish to do so."

"Sire, I am already bound by a promise. You asked anyone to leave who did not wish to take an oath. I am still here. I will take the oath."

Garia repeated the oath and everyone else responded. She noticed a look of satisfaction on the Queen's face, and wondered whether she had just passed a test. Or just fallen in a trap? What did I just do?

"Sire," she said as Robanar moved towards the box, "I feel I must give another oath, one I gave when I was questioned by Master Morlan. It is not an oath that anyone else need take."

"Mistress?"

Garia took a deep breath and put her hand back on the crown. "I swear to tell this council the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help me God." The last phrase came out before she could even think about it.

Robanar thought about what she had just said. "Mistress, I am surprised but perhaps I shouldn't be. Your oath will satisfy us that you are not simply telling us tales. I have a question, who is God?"

"I'm guessing that He is what you call the Maker," she said. "There is much, much more to it than that of course. Religion can be a difficult subject on Earth. I would like to leave that for a different session, Sire."

"Very well, Mistress." Robanar closed the box and removed it from the table. "Let us begin, but have you given thought to where you would like to begin?"

"Yes, I do, Sire," Garia said, surprising herself. "It seems that I'm going to be spending the next few months, possibly years, talking to you all. I want to start by making Master Pitchell's job easier. He's going to be writing a significant amount during that time, and parchment can't be cheap, can it?" She saw Tanon shake his head and continued, "Then let me tell you about an alternative that has been in use on Earth for thousands of years. It's called paper. Once we get that technology fully understood and in production, we can more easily think about other things you might find worth while."

"What exactly is paper, Mistress?" Tanon asked. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Keren smiling. He had been there when she had tried to explain paper to Morlan and she was certain he understood the implications.

It isn't possible to grow up over a bookshop and not understand at least the basics of paper-making. So Garia knew just sufficient to be able to describe the process, not as the ancient Egyptians had used it, nor as the Chinese had used it, but as medieval Europe had developed the art. Yes, it appeared that any amount of sawdust was to be had, cheaply, mostly the stuff was currently burnt on site or plowed back into the soil. Yes, Master Tanon knew of a smooth-surfaced cloth which could be used to cover frames to hold the pulp. Yes, there were presses used to take juice from fruit to make wines which could be adapted for the purpose. Yes, Master Gerdas would see to the commissioning of a prototype the following morning.

The thing that they found most difficult to deal with was the sheer scale of the things she talked about. Most of them found difficulty in comprehending the huge numbers of books and other paper products that her world produced. Her description of newspapers blew them away completely. The thought of a number of large sheets of paper folded together, with writing on both sides, delivered to many thousands of dwelling-places daily was overwhelming. That brought her to a second important topic.

"Sire, Ma'am, Your Highness, Masters," she began. "One thing that really stands out in modern Earth society is the large quantities involved. You must make yourselves think of huge amounts of just about everything. What's the phrase I'm trying to think of? Ah, yes, 'economies of scale'. Don't think in terms of ten times what you have now, think a hundred, a thousand, a million times. For example, we routinely produce millions of tons of steel every year. We use it for almost everything. We make buildings, vehicles, ships out of it. You won't be doing that any time soon, but remember, the more you can make of anything, the cheaper it gets. The more you make of anything, the more uses you find for it, so the more you want to make of it."

"A ton, Mistress?" Tanon asked. "I assume that is a measure of weight?"

"Yes, Master Tanon. Let me think." I don't want to spend the best part of a day juggling weights, so let's try this the metric way. "Uh, imagine a cube of rainwater, a Stride on a side. Not the tank you'd have to make to put the water in, just the water. That would be a weight of a ton."

"That sounds like the way that they calculate the weight of ships," Tanon mused, proving that around the Valley at least someone had come to the same conclusions that Archimedes had. "A cube of a Stride is a ton, eh? Aye, that will work quite well, Mistress. Why rainwater, if I may ask?"

"It's the purest form of water around here, I suppose. Anything that comes out of the ground or from a river almost certainly has other things like minerals in it. The sea is salty, of course." A thought jolted her. "The sea is salty, isn't it?"

"Aye, Mistress," Keren replied. "Unpleasant tasting, as well. You're saying that if things are dissolved in the water then the weight will change?"

"That's right, Highness. Is it not true that ships in the open sea float higher than they would in the river? That's due to the salt changing the density of the water."

"Aye, of course!" Tanon exclaimed. "Of course, that's why that happens. Mistress, you are improving my education all the time. Millions of tons," he mused, "I begin to understand my part in this enterprise now."

"That would be millions of tons per year on Earth," Garia corrected. "Of course, we have a much larger population than you have here, your needs will be considerably less to start with."

A restless Bleskin began to speak. "Sire -"

"Captain," Robanar interrupted him. "I have not forgotten this evening's adventure. Perhaps we should stop here and make ourselves ready for the tower."

He was about to rise but Garia stopped him.

"Sire, perhaps we could take a few moments before we rise to tell Captain Merek what Captain Bleskin proposes for tonight."

"Aye, Mistress, a good idea. Bleskin, have you mentioned anything to Merek at all?"

"Briefly, Sire," Bleskin replied. He turned to his subordinate and described the activities that he had originally proposed to Gerdas. Merek was unhappy about the use of telescopes, and Robanar mentioned the discussion earlier that afternoon regarding the need to keep things secret or not.

"I thought the same as you, Merek, when the subject was raised but Mistress Garia has made an interesting case and I am inclined to agree with it. Perhaps that should be the first subject of our next meeting."

"As you wish, Sire."

"Master Pitchell, are you content with this evening's meeting?"

"Aye, Sire. I shall begin transcribing what has already been said and done tonight. I must confess, Sire, that the idea of this paper substance intrigues me."

"As it does myself, Master Pitchell. Mistress Garia, how long do you expect this paper-making process to take?"

"I have no idea, Sire. It has never been done here before. It may take a week, it may take longer."

"Very well. When shall we next meet?"

A meeting was provisionally fixed for three days time. The members of the newly-formed council left the chamber to return to their respective rooms and change. When Garia and Jenet reached their suite they found that Mistress Yolda had left their outfits for them, Garia's was in her dressing room and Jenet's was piled neatly on her chest of drawers. They helped each other out of their evening gowns and into the heavy cleaning dresses, tights and boots. After a week of wearing next to nothing on her lower half the tights felt peculiar on her legs but she expected that to disappear as time went on. The dress was too warm, at least within her suite, and she hoped for a cooling breeze when they got wherever they were going. The boots appeared to be the wrong ones but they eventually worked out that whoever had delivered them had switched over the two pairs. Finally Jenet showed Garia how to link the clasps at the neck of the dark cloaks they both wore and the two set off.

"Where are we going, Jenet?"

"Captain Bleskin said to wait for everyone else at the end of the corridor behind the Receiving Room," she said.

They went downstairs and Jenet led the way through a quiet palace, the corridors lit only by lamps at each intersection. Like most societies before the invention of gas or electric lighting people generally went to bed at sunset and got up around dawn. They passed relatively few others in the corridors but Garia was conscious of their Guard escort following discreetly behind. When they got to the indicated spot Garia beckoned them over with a wave of her arm.

"Do you intend to follow us all night? We are waiting for Captain Bleskin to take us up a tower."

"I didn't know that, Mistress. We wondered why you were both dressed that way."

"I don't know where we're going so I don't know if you would be able to follow us," she said. "But we'll be with Captain Bleskin and Captain Merek, so I'm not sure your services will be needed until we finish."

"Uh, thank you for thinking of us, Mistress. In fact we were soon to finish our watch when we noticed you leaving your suite, I expect others will take the night watch over you."

The corridor they were standing in ended at a blank wall with a single narrow door in it. It seemed to Garia that the wall looked different than the other ornately paneled walls which lined the palace corridors and she finally realized that it was stone rather than wood. After a short wait the door opened and Captain Merek emerged.

"Welcome, Mistress," he greeted them. "The others will arrive shortly, I believe."

He talked to the two guardsmen and dismissed them for the night, then stood with them and waited for the others to arrive. When Bleskin, Keren, Gerdas and finally Robanar appeared one after the other they seemed surprised that Garia had gotten there first but no-one minded much. Merek waved them all through the small door into a large chamber.

"Gosh. I didn't expect this," Garia said.

They were in a huge square room of roughly-cut and heavily-repaired stonework. From the four corners massive vaulting arched to the center to make a domed ceiling. What took Garia's attention were the two huge treadmills which occupied the bulk of the floor space. These were so large that the tallest man in the room would have no difficulty standing on the treadmill without his head touching the immense wooden axle above him. There was space for at least two men to walk side by side inside the rim of each wheel. Between the two wheels was a wood-and-iron mechanism which Garia decided might be some kind of bucket-and-chain pump, the end disappearing into a hole in the floor. A similar mechanism was against the far wall, its base in a tank and the rest going through a hole in the vaulted ceiling.

"We make our criminals earn their keep," Keren spoke softly in her ear. "They do it voluntarily as it means a reduction in time served. The near pump lifts water from the well in the center and runs it into that tank and then the further pump lifts the water up to the main tank above us. Shall we go?"

He gestured with a hand and she saw that the others were passing through a small doorway at the other side of the room. When she reached it she found a spiral staircase going up through the stonework. Garia went first followed by Jenet and Keren brought up the rear.

The room above was another surprise to Garia as it was almost entirely filled with a huge cylindrical vat that went up into the gloom above her. This was made of entire tree trunks cut and shaped like giant barrel staves, the whole thing being bound in numerous iron bands.

"Our main water supply, although we have many others," Keren explained. "The look-out post is on top."

The next stage of the ascent was by means of a steep wooden open-tread stairway which led round at least two sides of the tower before the tank blocked her view. The others were waiting for them to catch up at its bottom.

"Mistress," Robanar said to her, "you will tell us straight away if there is any difficulty, won't you?"

"As you command, Sire," she replied diplomatically. She privately wondered whether the King might have more of a problem climbing the stair than she would.

"There is a problem," he added. "We would prefer you to go first, so that we might assist you if you should slip, but for modesty we would rather not be directly behind you. How should we proceed, Mistress?"

"That stair doesn't look so bad," she said. "Jenet, will you be able to manage that all right?"

"Yes, Mistress, I think so."

"Then I'll go first, Jenet can follow and Prince Keren can come behind us. We'll call when we get to the top, Sire."

She grasped the tread at eye height with her hands and began climbing. This stair is a little steeper than it looks. And the treads are a bit far apart. Silly! It isn't the treads at all, it's the fact that I'm shorter. Each tread had a thin strip of iron nailed to the edge to protect against wear and to provide a little extra grip. There was a little clink as the nails in the soles of her boots hit this strip as she climbed upwards into the gloom.

"Jenet! How are you managing?"

"Right behind you, Mistress."

There was a small landing where the stair turned from one wall to the next and she took a breather while the others joined her. Beside her, the water tank loomed, radiating coldness.

"Any problems, Garia?" Keren asked her quietly.

"Not really. The treads seem far apart but that's because I'm so short. I'll manage."

She called down that she had reached the first landing and then started on the next flight of stairs. There was another landing, the third flight of stairs came and went and she started on the fourth. Behind her she could hear all the others following on the lower flights. The fourth flight was shorter and went straight up through the heavily-timbered wooden ceiling which was above the top of the tank. Garia emerged onto a flat platform which covered the tower. It was almost full dark but still just light enough to make out her surroundings.

A low parapet defined the limits of the platform which was the same size as the tower. Overhead an awning was stretched from iron poles clamped against the walls. Garia supposed that it would shelter the watchers from the fierce summer heat during the day and whenever it rained. She saw that the awning sloped downwards to the center and that a fabric pipe drained any water it caught through a hole in the deck, presumably into the tank below. There were chairs there, a table with a single red-filtered lamp on it, and each side of the tower had a telescope mounted on a tripod facing out. She could see six guardsmen, two seated at the table and the rest standing at the walls gazing out into the night. She walked to one of the walls to get her first proper view of Palarand.

There were few lights, most of the palace and the city beyond was dark. There were some windows which showed glimmers, just as they had the night she had escaped through her bedroom window, but not many. The palace was below her, a jumble of roofs and dark voids it was difficult to make sense of. She sensed Keren join her one side and Jenet the other.

"This is almost the first time that I have seen anything of the outside of the palace," she said to him. "I don't count the other night, of course."

"So it is," he replied quietly. " It's too dark to see much, I'm afraid."

"Do you think Captain Bleskin would let me come up here during the day?"

Keren chuckled. "That might depend on how good your telescopes prove to be," he said. "Get him in a good mood and I think he'll allow it. Here he is."

Keren gave way to the two captains. Bleskin leaned on the parapet, examining the scene below.

"It seems all is quiet tonight, Mistress. It's very dark, none of the moons are up yet but we won't have to wait long. Is this what you expected to see?"

"Not really, Captain. I had expected to be able to make out a little more. I guess my eyes haven't adapted to the dark yet."

"Would you like to look at our telescopes while you wait? You might tell us how they differ from your own."

He led the way to one of the tripods. On top on a swivel joint was a long thin box with an eyepiece at the inside end. Garia found that it was set a little too high to be comfortable for her to view the surrounding buildings but would probably be just right for looking at the sky.

"For similar purposes to this," she told Bleskin, "we would make them out of brass tubes. If you make them with several tubes, each slightly larger than the next, then they can be slid together for easier carrying." She pantomimed with her hands the action which on Earth had also come to be called 'telescoping'. "Makes it easier to focus, too. But I really wanted to get a look at the night sky first, to see if I can find anything familiar."

"Of course, Mistress. Brass tubes, eh?"

Gerdas joined them. "I fear the King is out of condition," he said. They turned to see him sitting on one of the chairs at the table.

Keren's voice was concerned. "Do you think this was a good idea, Gerdas? Should we have recommended him to stay below?"

Gerdas snorted, quietly. "I don't think so, Highness. After all, I'm twenty years older than His Majesty. He's just not used to climbing up and down these distances every night like I am. Give him a moment or two and he'll be all right, I think." He turned to Garia. "So, Mistress, what's first?"

"I was going to look at the sky to start with," she said, "to see if there is anything up there I might recognize."

"An excellent idea, Mistress. I can point out the constellations to you as we go."

They walked round the four walls of the tower, the rest trailing silently behind, as Garia and Gerdas held an animated conversation regarding the contents of the gorgeous sky above them. The atmosphere was entirely free of clouds and dust and they could see everything with great clarity. The only drawback, which was inevitable given Palarand's position in the bottom of a valley, was the fact that the sky was blocked to the north-west and south-east at lower levels by the mountains which defined the great rift. As they reached the fourth side, looking towards the south-west, she saw the Milky Way arching high into the heavens and that triggered off a sudden, horrible thought.

Oh, God, no. Suppose I've got this all wrong! This could still be Earth, couldn't it? Only Earth many thousands of years into the future. Or the past, if it comes to that. How do I tell? The moons prove nothing, do they? The big one could be the Moon I know, the smaller ones could just be asteroids picked up over time.

She had another thought, one she should have had many days previously. The smaller ones need not even be moons, need they! They could be space stations put up many centuries before now. Suppose I'm a time-traveler, not a space-traveler? How the heck do I prove anything like that? Sense reasserted itself. The stars. What about the constellations? Is there anything I recognize? What about the planets? Stars might drift over time, the planets will stay the same, surely?

"Mistress? Something you have noticed?"

She explained her misgivings to Gerdas as best as she could and she could just make out his nod of understanding in the gloom.

"An interesting suggestion, Mistress. About the moons, is your society really capable of lifting something as large as that into the sky?"

"Not quite, not at the time I left Earth. But we could construct something up there, yes, we have a space station in the sky already, something that can be seen with the naked eye at dawn or sunset when it reflects the sun's light. With a small telescope it is easy to make out the shape, and even that of the shuttles which fly to it. I have no doubt that in the near future we will build larger structures."

"Construct... you mean, you would take it up there in small pieces and assemble it?"

"That's right, Master. It's difficult to build things up there so it's all worked out on the ground beforehand to prevent problems. I'll tell you all I remember about that another time. When's a moon likely to come up?"

"It is nearly always possible to see Teide each night as it travels around, Mistress. Unlike the other moons it rises in the west and sets in the east." Gerdas looked around at the western sky. "I'm afraid it's not yet risen, Mistress. Perhaps we can look at some planets while we wait? At the moment three of them will be visible to the north-east, and Kalikan will rise from that direction later."

They walked back to the north-east battlement and clustered round the telescope. Gerdas pointed out two of the planets to Garia and she swung the telescope in that direction. There was a crude clamp used to adjust the focus and Garia struggled with it until Captain Merek came forward to assist her. It was almost at the limit of travel before she got a sharp image of one of the planets. Perfect!

"Master Gerdas, take a look at that."

Gerdas took her place at the eyepiece and squinted.

"That's amazing, Mistress! It has an interesting color, too, something I've never noticed before. Oh! There are other small lights! I can count two, no, three, no, there's another one!" He stood and turned to Garia. "Are those moons, Mistress, of Pulaghan, the same way that Kalikan is a moon of Anmar?"

"I don't know, Master Gerdas, but it seems likely. The only way you will be able to tell is to watch them night by night and see if they move away from the planet as time goes by. If they don't they're moons."

Gerdas turned back to the telescope but before he could lower his head to it he realized his position and stood up again, offering Robanar his place at the eyepiece. Once the King had seen what was there to be seen the two Captains each had a turn before Gerdas swung the telescope in search of another target.

"There, I think I've found Gontar. That's odd!" He stood and turned to Garia. "Mistress, from what we discussed previously I understood that all bodies in the sky would be round. It seems that this one is not. Will you take a look, Mistress? I'm not sure I understand what I'm seeing."

Garia put her eye to the eyepiece and saw what she guessed she might see, a ringed planet.

Now, is that Saturn? Hmm. I know some of the others have faint rings as well and things may change over the years. What am I saying? Be realistic here. They change over centuries, millennia.

She explained to the assembled group what a ringed planet was and how the ring was likely formed from a broken-up moon. There were lots of questions and she had to reassure them that Kalikan wasn't about to crumble into gravel anytime soon. She then pointed out that the two planets she had seen so far were probably very much larger than Anmar but were mostly gas, which triggered off more explanations about what exactly gas was.

The third planet also turned out to be ringed. This caused Garia more thought but she quickly dismissed her concerns. If she was many thousands of years in the future, anything could have happened in the heavens since she had previously been on Earth.

The smallest and closest moon, Teide, raced into view from behind a silhouetted mountain to the west and began rising into the heavens. As the watchers tried to focus on it another problem became evident, it was moving too fast to stay in the field of view for very long. They each managed to observe it before it climbed above the level of the awning on the northwest side of the tower, Garia watching it long enough to confirm that it was not, as she had feared, man-made but just a captured asteroid.

One of the guardsmen had brought up a canteen of hot pel insulated by a wool jacket. Merek tried to apologize for not bringing fine goblets or cups for the King and his guests but Robanar would have none of it.

"Nonsense, Captain! I've been accustomed to drinking from issue mugs for many years. Probably, in fact," he eyed the captain, "since before you were born. Mistress! Shall you object to the mugs my guardsmen use?"

"Sire," Garia replied, "if it's hot and wet I shan't notice what I'm drinking out of."

"There you are then, man! Serve it out, by all means."

Robanar, Keren, Garia and Jenet sat at the table with their drinks while the others stood around. Although it was still a fine summer night some of the heat had gone out of the air and the hot drink was most welcome, especially to keep her awake after a long and busy day. The tights kept her legs comfortable in temperature but the heavy dress was a little too stuffy, especially when combined with the cloak. There was no breeze which might have made a difference.

"Mistress, your expedition tonight has been a success," Robanar told her.

"In some part, Your Majesty," she replied. "The telescopes have worked just as well as I thought they would and they have given Master Gerdas much to think about. I'm still no closer to knowing whether or not this is the same world I started from, though. It is possible that I am many thousands of years into the future, but I have no way to confirm that."

"Indeed an interesting question, Mistress, but one that makes little difference to your chances of returning home."

"No, Sire. I have decided in any case to concentrate on what I can do for my new home rather than search for what at best would be a very slim hope of return."

Gerdas came and spoke to them. "Sire, Mistress, I fear there is too much work here for a single person. I am going to need help."

"You want to know if your discoveries can be spread around, Gerdas?" Robanar guessed. "The knowledge, certainly, I can't see much problem with telling your colleagues what you have found out, it's the telescope which is the sticking point. We'll decide at the next council meeting, I think."

"There are other things I can tell Master Gerdas about telescopes specially designed for astronomical use," Garia offered. "For instance, ways of keeping fast-moving moons in focus. Because Anmar is turning all the time that movement is going to affect almost anything you look at in the sky."

"Mistress, I am overwhelmed," Gerdas replied.

Robanar got up and walked off with Gerdas to talk further about the matter. Garia took the opportunity to ask Keren some questions that had been nudging her since coming to the tower.

"I've noticed this tower is made of stone," she said. "I though the whole palace was built of timber."

"This is part of the old fort which stood here originally," Keren told her. "You can't see it at night but the whole rear of the palace is in fact inside the walls of the fort which we think was built by the Chivans many centuries ago. So, all the buildings to the north-east are inside the walls and those to the south-west are outside and mostly built much later. In the daylight you can see from here that some of those buildings are built up against the walls. Do you remember noticing any stonework when you arrived at Palarand with Tanon?"

Garia thought back to her journey into the city. "Possibly. I remember some of the wagons went off just before we went though a big stone arch that Mistress Merina said brought us into Old Palarand."

"That's right. Around the old Chivan fort was the city they built and it had its own walls. Of course, Palarand has expanded well outside those just as the palace has expanded outside the original fort. We used this tower to hold the water tank as it is the only structure strong enough to bear the weight."

"Yes, I understand. I'm assuming that the well between the treadmills is clean water?"

Keren looked surprised. "Shouldn't it be?"

"You're in the middle of a city. I don't know what kind of waste disposal you have here but there must be some risk of contamination, surely."

"No, Mistress, thank goodness. Another thing the Chivans left us was a fine sewer system which we have endeavored to keep clean and fully functional. True, there are some districts which are less than clean but we get fewer problems than some of the other Valley cities which haven't bothered with their sewage systems."

"Oh. One of these days, Highness, you are going to have to tell me all about the Valley and its countries and cities."

"I would be honored to do that, Mistress."

"Will that be before or after teaching me to read and write?"

She could sense his broad grin in the near darkness. "Looks like we've both got a lot to do in the coming days, doesn't it?" He put his mug down on the table. "How are you keeping up, Mistress? You've had quite a busy day today."

"I know. I also know I have to climb back down all those steps before I can get as far as my bed, so I don't plan to leave it too late tonight. Tonight's visit up here has been important, though. Everyone has learned a great deal by doing this. I think I will wait till Kalikan rises and then call it a night."

"That shouldn't be too long now, Mistress."

Bleskin came by and dropped into a chair, puffing. "I'd forgotten what night duty was like," he said. "Like the King, I tend to leave such exploits to the younger generation these days. Remarkable things you have shown us tonight, Mistress."

"Thank you, Captain. I hope there will be further discoveries, but I'm not sure I can come up here every night, my time is filling up rapidly. Master Gerdas will want to return to his own mansion one day soon, in any case. We will soon go down tonight and leave your men in peace. I am only waiting to see Kalikan."

"A glorious sight, Mistress! Especially when the air is so clear as it is tonight."

"Captain," she asked him then, "while you're here, if I may change the subject for a moment."

"Ask away, Mistress."

"I would like to start doing some exercises each day to keep my body in condition. It's something I used to do before I came to Anmar, you understand. In addition I want to discover what weapons and fighting methods your guardsmen use. After the break-in attempt the other night I want to be able to defend myself. We did mention the subject at lunch recently if you recall."

Bleskin shuffled uncomfortably in the darkness. "I'm not sure what you hope to gain, Mistress. After all, it is the function of the Palace Guard to keep safe all who live within."

"I understand that, Captain. I'm not proposing that I relieve you of that responsibility. But, on the other hand, just as there are things I know which have improved Master Gerdas's understanding of the sky above, there may be things I know which can improve the fighting abilities of your guardsmen."

"After this evening's demonstration, Mistress, I cannot disagree with that argument. But, if you watch us train, that may have a distracting influence on my men."

"And if it were not a training session, Captain? Suppose they were asked to defend us in reality. The distraction would be there then, wouldn't it?"

Bleskin sighed. "Mistress, I cannot fault you. Perhaps I'm getting too old for this. You would wish merely to observe a training session, then?"

"To begin with, yes, Captain. I need to understand what your men can do now before I can figure out new things I might be able to teach them. But, I also need to begin training myself as well. That is a separate matter."

Bleskin let out a big breath. "Mistress, it is late for both of us and perhaps we should not deliberate such important matters here and now. I confess I cannot see how you might improve what we already do but I also listened to the other matters you talked about earlier today. Such as paper. I suggest we come to some arrangement after breakfast tomorrow, if that is convenient to you, Mistress."

Garia was about to agree but Keren broke in. "After this late night I expect we'll be taking a late breakfast in our suites, Captain. Perhaps I should bring Mistress Garia to the training ground tomorrow once we are ready for the day."

"Agreed, Highness."

Bleskin stood up as Robanar came to the table. "At ease, Captain, I've only come to bid my son and Mistress Garia good-night. I have several important meetings tomorrow and I should be getting to bed. Merek is seeing me down the ladder."

"Then I'll add my good-night to you, Sire."

After the King left the tower Garia and Keren walked to the south-west side to look at the arch of the Milky Way across the sky.

There's absolutely nothing I've seen tonight which gives me a clue about anything. I haven't seen a single recognizable constellation tonight but that means squat anyway. I've spent enough nights out under the stars but never really bothered learning the stars properly. Okay, the big ones I know, the Big Dipper, Orion, the W of Cassiopeia, Leo. But I'm in the southern hemisphere, don't know how much of those I could see down here. Assuming they still exist and I'm looking in the right direction. I'm still completely in the dark about where - or when - I have ended up.

After admiring the awesome view for a while Gerdas came to join them.

"Highness, Mistress, Kalikan is rising. Will you join us at the other side of the tower?"

In the north-east sky the moon hung huge, emerging from behind the mountains on the south-east side of the Valley. Garia inspected it closely, a difficult thing to do since it was so bright.

Now, how many thousands of times have I looked at the Moon and not really seen it? I guess it's just always been there so I, like most people, have taken it for granted. It's just the Moon, y'know? She stared at the blotched surface. I can't tell if that looks familiar or not. Worse, if I'm in the future, there may have been changes, other collisions, which might have altered its appearance. Huh, I'm south of the Equator, so I'm looking at it upside-down as well. Am I? Oh, God, my brain hurts!

Her eyes began watering from the glare so she blinked the tears away, turning her face so that she could wipe it with a hand. Jenet materialized next to her, holding out a cloth and she took it gratefully.

"It is a bit bright, isn't it, Mistress?"

"It is somewhat, isn't it? I guess it must be full."

"Aye, Mistress," Gerdas said. "It was actually full last night but it's still fully visible tonight as you can see. It seems to be worse when it's near the horizon for some reason. I find it difficult to do much when it's in this state."

"I can imagine."

"Now starts the time of harvest," Keren told her. "Before the next full moon, all the crops must be reaped or picked or dug up or whatever else needs doing. Shortly after the next full moon the rainy season will begin."

Garia had turned back so didn't answer Keren. He though little of it until he realized that she was standing, staring with her mouth wide open. Rising from the mountains behind Kalikan was an awe-inspiring sight. There were filigree tendrils, clouds, swirls, all in different colors, greens, reds, blues, yellows. There were many bright stars embedded in the huge nebula which was rising into the night sky, their multi-colored fire lighting up the clouds of gas which covered a quarter of the horizon. Kalikan paled into insignificance beside the glory coming into view.

"We call that the Veil, Mistress," Keren said matter-of-factly. "What do they call it on your world?"

A stunned Garia could only stare, entranced by the spectacle. The tears streamed down her face as she took her first sight of something no one on Earth had ever seen with the naked eye.

"Mistress?" Jenet held out the cloth, and she took it without moving her head to wipe her face.

Finally she turned to face Keren and Gerdas.

"They don't call it anything," she belatedly answered Keren's question. "That's because there was never anything like that visible from Earth." She shook her head. "That settles that question once and for all, I think. This can't possibly be the Earth I lived on until very recently. No, this is conclusive proof that I'm somewhere else entirely."

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."

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

Somewhere Else Entirely

by Penny Lane

15 - Fire and Ashes

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~o~O~o~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yes, Mistress?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What's this?"

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

Yolda read through the small document, her brow furrowing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Aye, mother."

~o~O~o~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Gerdas took a drink from his goblet and then resumed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~o~O~o~

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

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

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

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

Only time will tell.

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

Queen Terys has to bring Mistress Yolda to heel, a task accomplished with some difficulty. Garia finally gets something resembling exercise gear, receives an unexpected gift and then Gerdas has a proposition for her.

Somewhere Else Entirely

by Penny Lane

16 - Wrath of the Queen

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

---

Garia thrashed about in the bed and then came abruptly awake. Her eyes felt as if they had been sandpapered and her mouth tasted as if a cat had slept in it. Rolling on to her spine she used the backs of her hands to try and clear her eyes.

"Mistress?"

"Uh? Uh, morning, Jenet."

Garia pushed back the covers and awkwardly raised herself up in the bed, blinking in the half-light.

"Ugh. What a night," she said. "I don't think I slept very much at all. Are there many nights as warm as last night, Jenet?"

The maid came round the bed and shrugged. "I wouldn't have said that last night was much different to any other, Mistress. It's a bit more stuffy, that's because the air isn't so dry any more. That's one reason why we were so uncomfortable at the funeral yesterday. It's the earliest sign that the rainy season is on it's way, and that will be good, because it means the fields will be properly watered for next year's crops."

"Oh. I guess so." Garia rubbed her eyes again and then adjusted her nightdress. "Tell me about the rainy season. People keep mentioning it."

"Yes, Mistress. It starts soon after the harvests are all gathered in, about four weeks or so from the last full Kalikan. Generally the sky gets more and more cloudy and then one day it just starts raining, and it goes on raining. For two to three months. By the time the skies clear again the weather will be a lot cooler and we will be moving into Fall."

"Two to three months? Wow. On Earth we would call that much rain a monsoon. Hey, wait. If it rains that much, I suppose the river rises? Do we get floods here in Palarand?"

"There used to be heavy floods, Mistress, but the river doesn't rise quite so much any more. Some of the fields nearest the river still flood but the farmers plant rice crops in those which need the water to grow." The word Jenet used wasn't rice but it was apparent that the grain referred to was grown and used in a similar fashion. "You've had some stressful days recently, Mistress, as well. That might explain why you're not sleeping properly at the moment. I found it difficult to sleep very well myself after what happened yesterday."

"Yesterday? Oh, Yolda! Jenet, do you think the Queen is going to lay down the law to her?"

"I don't know what to think, Mistress. Mistress Yolda has been doing her job in the palace for so long that I'm not sure what might happen today. If I may say so, Mistress, it's quite apparent that she disapproves of what you want to do. For myself, I'm curious to see what you can teach us. It never occurred to me, and probably not to most women either, that we might be capable of such things as you have spoken about."

"Yes, well, I'm not sure at the moment that I am capable of any of it either, Jenet. That's why I wanted to get use of a room where I could try things out."

"I hope that you'll succeed, Mistress. Are you ready for your bath?"

~o~O~o~

Mindful of what might happen that day Garia had chosen a sober but still light-weight gown of dark green to wear to the breakfast table. When she entered the dining room Queen Terys came immediately to her.

"Garia, my dear! You can't have slept well, you look terrible!" She gave Garia a look of concern. "Are you sure I can't get you to try some face paints? It would make a big difference to your complexion."

"Thank you no, Your Majesty. I'll manage."

"Do they not use such arts on Earth? Is that why you do not wish to wear paint?"

"Uh, no, Your Majesty, uh, Ma'am. Most all the girls start wearing cosmetics from about the age of ten or so where I come from. You remember, I wasn't a girl there so I don't have any experience putting make-up on. But, the main reason is that I know that a lot of make-up from earlier times was made from substances that were later on considered dangerous."

"Dangerous?" Terys's eyebrows rose. "How so?"

"There are a lot of chemical substances used in make-up which can get into the body through your skin, Ma'am. Some of those can cause disease, disfigurement or even death. Substances your people couldn't even identify today. Sometimes it can take a long time for the effects to become apparent, years even. People in those times didn't know any better, and didn't know that the diseases they caught had anything to do with what they put on their faces and bodies."

"Oh." Terys looked alarmed. "How can we find out if we are using these, er, dangerous substances?"

"Short answer, Ma'am, is you probably can't right at the moment. There are substances I can tell you right off you shouldn't be using, like lead, or anything with lead in it, but I'll have to think of a way of testing what you use to find out what's in it. Are there chemists in Palarand? Uh, would they be Questors, or would they be Guildsmen, would you know?"

"I don't know, dear. We'll have to ask Gerdas I suppose, he might know. Maker, this is distressing news to hear. There are a lot of women in Palarand who will be very cross with you for frightening them off their face paints."

Garia shrugged. "If we tell them the alternative is a shortened life and a painful death, they might get over it. But, there will be other, safer materials that can be used instead. We just have to find them and test them."

"I hope you're right, dear, otherwise you could be very unpopular."

"I'm not unpopular already?"

Terys grimaced. "A sore point at the moment, dear. Come, sit at the table, and we shall plan the coming campaign. We'll need Bleskin as well, I think."

The Mistress of the Wardrobe usually attended the communal meals but she was absent this morning, no doubt wishing to avoid any confrontation. That meant that those on the King's table could discuss the matter quietly without restraint, but it also meant that the whole room soon became aware that something was about to happen and the murmur of conjecture rose around them. When the meal ended Bleskin and Kendar, the Chamberlain, followed Terys, Keren and Garia back to the Queen's sitting room where she gave the Guard Captain his final instructions.

"Take as many men as you think you'll need, Captain. Borrow men from the training detail if you have to. Get everyone out of the area and seal it. Make sure you search every one of those huts in the courtyard, too. Bring Mistress Yolda to me here. The rest of her staff, anyone else you find there, you can dismiss for the day, but I want her brought here to me."

"If she resists, Ma'am?" Bleskin knew he had the full backing of both King and Queen but he was still unsure about handling the forthcoming operation. This was a situation that his years of training and experience hadn't prepared him for.

"Use whatever means you can to persuade her, Captain. If she still resists, you may inform her that you have my full authority to draw blood if necessary."

Bleskin stood straighter as he realized what that must mean. "Aye, Ma'am. I'll try not to injure her but she'll be in no doubt that I mean business."

"Good. You'd better begin, then."

Bleskin banged his fist on his breast and then left. Terys turned to Garia.

"Garia, dear, I think it best if you were not to be visible when she is brought here, it might make her back into a corner. If you and Jenet go into the bedroom, you'll be able to hear everything with the door open and I can call you when I need you."

The Queen had suddenly stopped looking like Keren's mother and started looking very regal. Garia curtseyed and licked her lips. Even though Terys looked as if she had everything in hand there was no way of knowing exactly what might happen next.

"Yes, Ma'am."

She led Jenet into the ornate royal bedroom where they took positions near the door to hear whatever would be said in the sitting room without being seen. They stood there for some while and Garia was considering sitting down when a knock came at the door from the corridor to the sitting room.

"Enter," Terys commanded, and the door opened to admit two guardsmen with drawn swords, Mistress Yolda, Captain Bleskin, and two more guardsmen holding naked steel.

"Your Majesty, I must protest!" Yolda said. "I have been manhandled by guardsmen!" She made the last word sound as if she had been forced to consort with sewer workers. "You did not have to send so many, I would have come when requested."

"But you didn't, Mistress, did you?" Bleskin pointed out to her. "When I told you that the Queen commanded your presence, you flatly refused to accompany me, saying that you were busy."

"Is this true, Yolda?" Terys asked softly.

"I was busy, yes, Your Majesty. Captain Bleskin seemed incapable of waiting until I had finished. He insisted that I come that moment. When I refused he threatened me with his sword. His sword! You know that I would always attend to your requests at the earliest possible moment, Your Majesty."

"But that is the point, isn't it, Yolda? I didn't request your presence, I commanded it. When I issue a command I expect it to be obeyed immediately. Captain Bleskin did exactly what I commanded him to do. Very well. Now that you have arrived, you can describe to me your actions of yesterday afternoon, when Mistress Garia visited you and requested certain items of clothing."

Yolda spread her hands. "What is there to tell, Your Majesty. She came and requested shoes to wear to the funeral, I provided them. She also requested soft boots and I provided those as well, although I can't understand what she wanted them for, they are not footwear that a lady of the court should be wearing. She also asked for some strange clothes, a guardsman's tunic, would you believe! I told her I couldn't give her that, and she went away."

"That's not exactly what happened, is it?" Keren put in. "The truth is, you went away, leaving us standing in your office with the impression that we were both children who should leave the grown-ups to get on with their jobs."

"Your Highness," she told Keren dismissively, "that's no more than the truth, isn't it? You are not yet an adult, and Mistress Garia is younger than you. I have no time to spend dealing with the fantasies of the young. With the Harvest Festival approaching there is much that needs doing in my department at the moment."

"Harvest Festival is four weeks away, Yolda," Terys said severely. "If you need that long to prepare you are obviously not up to the job and should be retired."

Yolda's face showed stubborn determination. "Your Majesty, there is more involved than you might appreciate. I have to ensure that the standards of the palace are maintained, and that requires methodical attention to detail. That takes time."

"That might be so, Yolda, but you should still have provided Mistress Garia with all that she asked for. She visited you with my express approval."

"Your Majesty, what can such a young woman want with such outlandish things? I fail to understand her purpose, and the garments she asked for should never be seen on a lady of the court. Or on any woman, for that matter. I considered that she had some kind of fantasy such as the young have before they come to their senses. I could not give her what she wished, it would bring the palace, and the royal family by association, into disrepute. She is only young, after all, she is new to Palarand, how can she know our customs? I thought best to nip such silly ideas in the bud, encourage her to develop as a young lady of the court should."

"Yes," Terys said thoughtfully. "She is new to Palarand, isn't she? Did it never occur to you that she was not enjoying a fantasy but only attempting to do something that is normal in her own country? Doing so with my express permission?"

"I did not know that, Your Majesty." Yolda's face had paled but the stubborn expression remained. "As I said, I have been busy. I do not follow the rumors in the palace."

"Perhaps not," Terys said, "but you could hardly fail to have noticed her at meal times, could you? Because Mistress Garia's appearance and position in the palace is not fully explained to all as yet I gave her a document which requested that everyone comply with her requests as though they were mine. Did she show you this document?"

"She did, Your Majesty. I believed that she had written it herself."

"Even after I told you that my mother had written it?" Keren asked her. "You tried to confiscate it from Mistress Garia."

"That was my mistake, Your Highness," Yolda told him coolly. "I intended to bring the document to Her Majesty or His Majesty so that they could tell me if it were authentic or not."

Terys waved her hand at her Chamberlain. "Taking it to Kendar would have been sufficient, but you should never have attempted to confiscate it in the first place. That is not your job in this palace. Your job is to provide clothing, footwear and regalia to those who request it of you and very little else, do you understand? Maker, you should understand, you've been doing the job long enough! Now, you will do as I say. Mistress Garia will describe exactly the clothing which she requires and you will provide it to her promptly and without question. Do I make myself understood?"

"As you say, Your Majesty." Yolda looked at Terys and Keren and gave a quick curtsey. "Now, Your Majesty, if you will excuse me, I have work to do."

She turned and began walking to the door but the two guardsmen either side immediately crossed swords. Uncertainly she came to a halt.

"If you go through that door," Terys's voice came from behind her like a whip, "it will be because you are on your way to the cells. Do you understand? Turn around and face your Queen!"

Yolda turned, her expression white, but the stubbornness was still there.

"I have not yet dismissed you, Yolda," Terys said in a cold, clear voice. "Your conduct is bordering on insolence just short of treason. I am Queen of Palarand, you are merely Mistress of the Wardrobe. You forget your place."

"Your Majesty," Yolda said, and there was the beginning of a tremor in her voice, "I sought only to preserve the standards that the royal house of Palarand is renowned for. I have served the King, the King's father and his grandfather faithfully. If I have made an error I beg your forgiveness for it. Perhaps there is no longer a place for me here at court. With your permission, I shall retire and let a younger person take my place."

"Permission refused," Terys said coldly. Yolda gaped at her. Terys continued, "You have responsibilities here which cannot easily be transferred. I have no doubt that were you to leave the palace today your department would collapse in chaos within a week." Terys nodded to herself. "It is true that it is probably time you retired, but first of all a successor must be found and trained. As you have so carefully explained, preparation for certain public events requires care and attention and the Harvest Festival is coming up. I will not release you until a successor has been chosen and properly instructed, and that will probably not be complete until the rainy season is over. I am not going to let you run away and leave someone else to clear up your mess. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Your Majesty," Yolda said in a small voice.

"I do not like your excuse for an apology, either," Terys added. "'If I have made an error', indeed! The mere fact that I had to send Captain Bleskin for you - and some of his men, with drawn swords! - before you would come to my presence underlines that you have strayed from your duties and your responsibilities. Not to mention your manners! You are lucky that I do not demand your head for the way you have treated my son, who will be the next King of Palarand."

Yolda gulped, lifted her skirts and fell to her knees before the Queen. "Y-Your Majesty, I humbly beg your pardon. I forgot my place. It will not happen again." She bowed her head.

"No, it most certainly won't," the Queen replied grimly. "Consider that I have given you your final warning. You may rise."

Yolda managed to get to her feet, an operation not easily undertaken for one of her age. In the end Bleskin had to help her stand.

"But, Your Majesty," Yolda said when she had recovered herself, "I do not understand Mistress Garia's position in the palace. Have we begun taking in waifs and strays now? Surely, she is just an ordinary young woman, wherever she may have come from? Should we not treat her as we do anyone else of her age?"

Terys eyed Yolda for a while without speaking, then called, "Garia? You may come in now."

Garia and Jenet re-entered the sitting room, which was now appearing crowded. She took a position beside Terys.

"Mistress Garia probably is, as you have suggested, just an ordinary young woman," Terys replied to Yolda's question. "Ordinary where she originally comes from, that is. Mistress Garia, as has been explained to you, is not from Palarand. She is not from anywhere in the Valley, either." Yolda looked at her uncomprehendingly. "She is not from Alaesia, in fact she is from nowhere on Anmar at all." A flicker of disbelief came into Yolda's eyes. "She comes from somewhere else entirely, from a country called Kansas on another world called Earth. The society she once lived in is somewhat different than ours is, and the customs of her world are very different. She does not know how she came here and there is little possibility of her returning to her home."

"Your Majesty, pardon me, this is a tale of fantasy, surely?" But Yolda looked uncertain as she spoke. "She is just like us, how much different can her home be?"

Garia spoke. "Mistress Yolda, you have no idea. I could spend hours telling you about my world and how different it is, but you would say it is all a crazy story. This is the problem I faced with Morlan, how to convince him that I was serious. You are not a Questor, I do not know how I could convince you. Suffice it to say that the King, Queen and the Prince all believe me. Questor Gerdas believes me, Master Metalsmith Parrel believes me."

She shook her head, thinking. Yolda presumably had some level of intelligence, but there was almost nothing in common between the worlds they moved in which could be bridged. It would be no good writing equations or explaining rainfall or bridge building. She looked helplessly at Jenet for assistance.

"Your clothing, Mistress," Jenet suggested. "Your original clothing."

"Of course! Yes, go and bring them, please."

Yolda looked curiously at Garia as Jenet disappeared.

"When I was first introduced to you," Garia said to her, "you were told that I owned no clothes at all, which is why you had to measure me and supply me with a basic wardrobe."

Yolda nodded. "As you say, Mistress. I thought that was strange at the time."

"Well, that was not strictly true. When I was found, up on the mountainside, I was not naked but was wearing the clothes I had on when I disappeared from my own world. You will see that they are nothing like anyone on Anmar would wear."

Jenet reappeared with a bundle and spread the clothes on the small table in the sitting room normally used for drinks. Yolda looked to the Queen for permission and when Terys nodded she moved forward to pick up the jeans. Her eyes widened immediately and then she took them to the window to examine them more closely. She turned abruptly to Garia.

"How is this possible, Mistress?"

"What do you mean, Mistress Yolda? The fact that they are trousers, or the construction? I do not know the intimate details of their manufacture but I can tell you that these garments are made by machines, in the tens and hundreds of thousands each year. We do not make them especially for each wearer but simply go into a shop and buy them off a rail. Oh, and they probably cost as much as a couple loaves of bread do here."

"A machine? How could a machine make this, Mistress? I do not understand."

"Well, I don't either. Most jeans are made the other side of the world these days, my world that is. Have a look at the stitching. Tell me if any of your seamstresses could make seams that even."

"They cannot, Mistress. This is beyond the ability of anyone I know."

"Now have a look at my tee-shirt." Garia pointed. "Turn the edges over and look at how they are finished."

Yolda exchanged the garments and held up the shirt to the light, squinting.

"This is impossible, Mistress! No one can make detail this fine!"

Garia shrugged. "Another machine or two, Mistress Yolda. Certainly nothing that exists on Anmar, at any rate."

Yolda stared at Garia. She was now totally out of her depth and unsure how to proceed. There were things she wanted to say, to ask, but she didn't want to risk the wrath of the Queen again.

"Mistress, are there any more of your garments?"

"Sorry, that's almost all there is. I have a pair of shoes unlike anything you have here, far too large to fit me now. There's a small underpants made of material similar to the shirt, that's all. I think it may be acceptable for you to examine them more closely some other time if you wish, but I don't think I want you to start pulling them apart, I'd rather hang onto them for now."

"These trousers," Yolda said, her eyes narrowing, "it does not seem to me that they would fit you, Mistress."

Garia shook her head. "No, I don't think they do any more. It's complicated, but let's just say my body wasn't quite this shape before I came from my world to Anmar."

"Do women really wear trousers like this on your world?"

"Yes, Mistress Yolda, they do. Not all the time, though. They also wear skirts and dresses and all kinds of other clothes, most of which would probably horrify you. I don't intend to inflict my world's fashions on yours, so you can rest easy there."

Yolda returned the garments to the table, then faced the Queen.

"Your Majesty, I wish to apologize to Mistress Garia. I did not understand her circumstances, and I made no attempt to find out. I merely assumed that she was the same as any other girl of her age."

"Garia?"

"Apology accepted," Garia said. "As you yourself said, my story sounds like a teenage fantasy."

"But," Terys added, "your treatment of her was unforgivable, whatever her story. I trust there will be no further lapses of judgment?"

"No, Your Majesty."

Terys turned to her Chamberlain.

"Kendar."

"Your Majesty?"

"You bear some responsibility for this business."

"Ma'am, I recognize that I do. I apologize, I did not realize how long Mistress Yolda had worked in the palace. I assumed that her department has special privileges."

"You now know that it does not. Captain Bleskin will escort Mistress Yolda back to her office where she will work for the rest of the day. Yolda, I have dismissed everyone in your department for today, you will have to handle any requests by yourself. You are not to enter any of the storage areas unaccompanied for now, is that clear?"

"As you command, Your Majesty."

"You are dismissed. Captain?"

Bleskin saluted and the party of guardsmen escorted Yolda from the room. When they had all gone Terys sighed.

"That was difficult. I wish that I never had to do that, but sometimes one lets things go too far and the situation has to be corrected. Kenila? I think we can all do with some pel, if you please."

"Yes, Ma'am." Her maids bustled off to prepare the drinks.

"Garia? I hope I didn't upset you."

"I'm all right, thank you, Ma'am. It was a bit of a shock, I'm not used to being around someone who can..."

"Wield this kind of power? You did tell me there was no King or Queen in your country, didn't you?"

"That's right, Ma'am. We have Senators and Governors and such, but someone like I was wouldn't get anywhere near people like that usually." Garia considered. "Actually, people like that wouldn't be seen dead near someone like me." She smiled at the Queen. "I'm glad you do, Ma'am."

"Kendar?"

"Aye, Ma'am?"

"I want to go through those storage areas of Yolda's while we have the chance, that's why I had Bleskin clear everyone out. Can you find some people to go and survey what's actually in all those huts?"

Kendar thought for a moment. "It will be difficult, Ma'am. My staff is only six people, as you know."

"Hmm. Harvest Festival is coming up, I didn't want to disrupt things for too long. But we can't, surely, need to keep everything Yolda has hoarded up? I'm sure there is much that should be sold off or just thrown away."

"Mother?" Keren made a suggestion. "What about borrowing some bodies from the tax office? They are experts in doing audits, after all."

Kendar brightened. "An excellent idea, Your Highness! I'll go and have a word with Chamilar when I leave here."

Terys continued, "You do realize that the first two of those huts were temporary erections for Robanar's coronation? It seems that Mistress Yolda's little empire has been growing for some time. I'd like to see if it's possible to get that courtyard cleared."

"A major project, Ma'am," Kendar diplomatically said.

"This is the Royal Palace, Kendar," Terys reminded him. "What other kind of project is there?"

~o~O~o~

Lunch was quiet. Word of the Queen's wrath had permeated through the palace and everyone kept looking at the high table out of the corner of their eyes while eating, as if she was about to order everyone's execution between courses. Needless to say, Terys deliberately ignored the glances, keeping the conversation with those around her to light topics. No-one was fooled. There was an almost audible outpouring of held breath when the Queen's party processed from the room on the way to their afternoon nap.

"Garia, dear."

"Yes, Ma'am?"

"Are you going to go back to Yolda after our nap and try to get those clothes you wanted?"

"I had thought to do so, Ma'am."

Terys nodded in satisfaction. "Good. I'm pleased to see that this morning's drama hasn't frightened you off."

"Actually, Ma'am, let's say I intend to be a little bit more careful of myself in future. But I do want to do this, so I need the clothes."

"Good," Terys repeated. "Keren had better go with you again, because the whole area is going to be full of people who aren't sure who you are or what they're doing. You realize that what happened this morning isn't the end of the story? That you will probably get further resistance from Yolda? Don't be too hard on her, please. On the other hand, make sure you get what you asked for."

"I will, Ma'am."

After the afternoon sleep and the cup of pel which inevitably followed, Garia led Keren and Jenet through the corridors to the place she now thought of as 'Yolda's Lair'. They entered her office past the two guardsmen standing outside the door and the Mistress of the Wardrobe rose from her seat. She had a resigned expression on her face as she curtseyed towards Keren.

"Your Highness, Mistress. You have come for the clothing you spoke about yesterday, I suppose?"

"That's right, Mistress Yolda."

Garia had decided to be as polite and 'correct' as possible when visiting Yolda. It cost her very little and she didn't want the older woman to get the idea that Garia didn't have manners. It had also occurred to Garia that perhaps girls had to mind their manners more than boys did, something that she was sure was going to irk her in the future.

"Mistress, perhaps you could tell me again what you need?"

Garia explained and Yolda measured her to make sure she understood what was wanted before heading off to find something suitable. She returned with three tunics over her arm and a pair of thin tights.

"Mistress, these three are different sizes. You should try them all to see which might suit your purposes best."

One was too tight across the bust so was discarded immediately. Another was a comfortable fit but hung well below Garia's knees. The third was much better, the hem reaching only midway down her thigh. Of course, it was a snug fit over her hips and there was a lot of spare cloth at waist level. She wondered about the shape and size of the guardsman it had originally been made for.

"Have you a sash I could wear, Mistress Yolda? That might keep all this loose cloth in check."

Yolda looked at Garia and Jenet as they stood in the changing booth, her expression one of distaste.

"What color sash should I bring, Mistress? Do you have a particular choice?"

Garia shrugged. "I don't see that it matters, Mistress Yolda."

"I ask because I don't think you would want to be mistaken for a guardsman, Mistress."

"Me? A guardsman? I don't think so, really. I mean, do I look even remotely like a guardsman, dressed like this?" Garia paused, thinking. "Actually, you do have a point, Mistress Yolda. I could be mistaken for one at a distance, couldn't I? That means light blue is out, doesn't it? I don't want to use the royal colors, let me think." Tricky. I bet all these colors mean something to somebody. I don't want to make a faux pas here if I can help it. She had a thought and smiled. If the boys are wearing blue, then perhaps - "I know, how about pink? Does wearing a pink sash have any special meaning?"

Yolda considered. "Not to my knowledge, Mistress. Let me go and see if I can find something suitable."

The sash which Yolda returned with was a color her Mom would have called 'coral', and it shaded perfectly with the rust-brown of the tunic and tights. Even Yolda was forced to admit the outfit looked good, despite the poor tunic fit and the sight of far too much of Garia's legs.

"Now, I'll need a skirt to go over this, to hide my legs. To start with, it can be anything you have that fits. I just need something that will get me from my rooms to the Small Training Room and back without upsetting anybody."

"You will look strange, Mistress, if the bodice and skirt mismatch."

"I'll put up with that for a day or two. If this whole thing works out then I'll ask you to make me a suit of clothes that fits me properly, but first of all I have to find out if it's worth doing at all."

"As you wish, Mistress."

Yolda returned with a wrap-around skirt of very dark blue that came to just above Garia's ankles. Despite all the color mismatches the ensemble didn't look to Garia's eyes to be that bad. Although the skirt was rather long to be seen about the palace corridors during the day, it had at least the virtue that it would conceal the fact that she was wearing men's tights.

After changing back into her green gown and with Jenet carrying the bundle of clothes, they made their way back to her suite. There she again changed into the new exercise clothes and walked into the Queen's sitting room. Terys was reading state papers and looked up in surprise as Garia entered with Keren in tow. She regarded Garia's new outfit with interest.

"Let me have a look at you, dear."

Garia did a twirl, feeling very self-conscious.

"Nothing fits, I can see that, but presumably you need to have some looseness for what you intend to do?"

"Yes, Ma'am. I'll ask for something that fits better when I know what works."

"And do you wear that skirt as well?"

"No, Ma'am, that's just for going to and from the hall." Garia pulled the waistband from under the sash and undid the ties, pulling the skirt away. "I'll be like this."

"Goodness! My dear, you do look strange." Terys eyed Garia. "Are you sure this is what you intend?"

"I think so, Ma'am. This is only my first try."

Terys gave Garia a smile. "Thank you for showing me, dear. That was considerate of you. Are you going to try some... exercising tomorrow?"

"If Captain Bleskin will let me, Ma'am. I'm afraid I've got a sort of mental itch, I'm so used to exercising that I feel uncomfortable not doing it. I want to see what I can do with the new me."

"Keren? What do you think of Garia's attire?"

Keren grinned. "It's certainly not what I'm used to seeing, Mother. In practical terms, I don't think she'll be showing anything she shouldn't be though. I somehow don't think this fashion is going to catch on in Palarand, they'll be fainting in the streets if they saw her like this."

Oh, yeah? Garia thought. Shows how much you know about teenage girls, doesn't it? Guess you might be in for a shock in a year or two.

She re-wrapped the skirt about her waist and Jenet knotted the ties. A knock came at the door and Kendar came in followed by a footman carrying a box.

"Your Majesty." He bowed. "This was found in one of Mistress Yolda's huts."

The footman placed the box on the table and Kendar opened it revealing a silver tiara sparkling with jewels. Terys rapidly rose and crossed to the table, lifting the tiara.

"My silver tiara! It's been so long since I've seen it that I've almost forgotten all about it. You say Yolda had it in one of the huts?" Her expression hardened.

"It was behind some other boxes at the back of a top shelf, Ma'am," Kendar explained. "If I were to be fair-minded to Mistress Yolda, it is possible that it was mislaid and that she had no idea it was there."

"And if I were not being fair-minded," Terys completed the thought, "she could have hidden it there hoping I'd forget it."

Kendar bowed an acknowledgment. "As you say, Ma'am."

Terys turned to Garia. "Come here, dear."

Terys placed the tiara on Garia's head, adjusting it until she was satisfied.

"Despite your haircut, dear, I think it will look well on your head. A woman must have some jewelery and you have none, so consider this the first piece of many for your collection." She gave Garia an apologetic look. "I'm afraid I can only lend it to you, dear, but it is yours to wear while you live in the palace. What do you think?"

Garia moved to the sitting room's long mirror and studied herself. The gear she was wearing made it look strange but she could see that the piece did something to her face. She stood up straighter. Now I really look like a princess, which is so unreal. I suppose I'll have to get used to all this as well. I wonder what gown would go best with it?

Did I really just think that? I can't go there yet, I really can't. There's too much else going on at the moment. Oh, God, do I really want to get all girly?

"Garia? Dear?"

"Uh, yes, Ma'am. Thank you very much, Ma'am, I'll be very careful with it. I'm really not used to wearing jewelry, b-, uh, it's not the sort of thing someone like me would have done where I came from." Which is exactly correct, however you care to interpret that statement.

"Kenila," Terys directed, "Show Jenet where and how our jewels are kept and make an area where Garia can keep hers, will you?" She turned to Kendar. "Are you keeping a record of all this? I suspect we will need another reckoning with Mistress Yolda before we are done."

"I am, Ma'am," Kendar replied. "With your permission?"

"Yes, Kendar, carry on. And you two," Terys indicated Keren and Garia, "it will soon be time for dinner. Why don't you both go and get changed?"

~o~O~o~

Dinner was more relaxed than lunch had been. The full story of what had happened to Mistress Yolda had now done the rounds of the palace bush telegraph and everyone had decided that she was the Queen's only target. One or two of them, however, had made private resolutions to make sure that the Queen didn't find anything wrong with their own particular area of palace responsibility. After the meal Gerdas approached Garia.

"Mistress Garia."

"Master Gerdas. I thought you were returning home today?"

"I decided to stay, Mistress, until after the Council meeting tomorrow evening. There was little point traveling home and then back again the next day."

"Of course. Do you live far?"

"About five marks, Mistress. Far enough away from the center of the city that my view is not obscured by smoke from all Palarand's chimneys. What I wanted to suggest to you, Mistress, is that since I will be here this evening I would like to take another look from the tower as we did the other night. Would you like to join me? I have already spoken to Captain Merek and he has permitted a visit."

Garia thought briefly. "Of course, Master Gerdas. Although, I don't think I can stay quite so late tonight, I didn't sleep well last night and I'll probably get tired quite quickly. But otherwise, yes, I would like to come."

Gerdas beamed. "Excellent, Mistress! If I may suggest, we could ascend before sunset and you may see more of Palarand. And there are questions we may discuss while we wait for the sky to become dark."

"Yes, all right, Master Gerdas. That's a good idea. I'll go and make sure the King, Queen and Prince know what we're doing, and then I need to go and change. I'll meet you at the door to the tower, like we did the last time, if that's convenient?"

"It is, Mistress. I must change my attire also."

Garia and Keren were waiting when Gerdas appeared and they ascended the stairs without waiting for an escort. No-one seemed surprised when they appeared on the roof, merely offering bows to the party. Garia immediately crossed to the wall to look at a Palarand lit by late evening sunshine.

It's a typical medieval city, she thought. Or perhaps a bit later, early thirteen colonies, perhaps. These people are sharp, they just haven't had some of the light-bulb moments that we've had on Earth in the past. Given even the slightest of clues I guess they can take anything I'm able to tell them and run with it. Which reminds me.

"Master Gerdas, you were organizing some means of making paper, I believe."

"As you say, Mistress. I've spoken to several Guildsmen and they are preparing a place where the experiments can take place, within the city. I have no word of progress yet, do you wish to take a look? I can find out what progress has been made tomorrow morning after breakfast."

"Yes, please. I want to get that off the ground so that we can start other projects. Paper will help greatly with everything else that follows."

"Very well, Mistress, I will make inquiries for you. Now, I have questions about the use of telescopes at night. You said something the other night that made me think -"

The sun set but Garia didn't notice. She and Gerdas were engrossed in a conversation that no-one else on the roof could possibly understand. Gerdas borrowed parchment from the officer of the watch and drew diagrams to Garia's instructions by the aid of the dim red lantern on the table. It was only when Kalikan finally rose that she realized how much time had passed, but she also realized that the evening had not been wasted at all.

Tomorrow would be an interesting day in many respects.

Garia finally gets to attempt some exercise, but a dreadful session is only saved by Keren's wise words. A hot afternoon sees Garia journey into the city to inaugurate Anmar's first paper-making experiments. Later, Tarvan is asked some strange questions...

Somewhere Else Entirely

by Penny Lane

17 - On the Mat

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

---

The last guardsman walked out of the door with an armful of practice swords and Captain Bleskin turned to the three who remained.

"I think that's everything, Highness, Mistress. We'll need to come back in and pack everything away before lunch, of course, but you'll have the room to yourselves until just before the fifth bell." He hesitated. "Are you going to be able to hear the bell? I'm afraid the men are going to make a bit of a racket out there, and we've never been able to hear the bells properly in here anyway."

Jenet reached into the bag she carried slung over a shoulder and pulled out a rolled-up towel. She unwrapped the towel to reveal an hourglass already started.

"Ah, you have a sand-dropper. Good, then, I'll be off. Good luck, Mistress, with your endeavors. Your Highness."

Bleskin saluted and then left, closing the door to the Small Training Room behind him. Jenet carefully placed the sand-dropper on the corner of a shelf stacked with battered leather helmets before the three turned and regarded the center of the room. Bleskin had gotten two of his men to pull out and unroll one of the thick felt mats they used for hand-to-hand and unarmed combat training and it lay before them on the floor. Garia guessed that it was about four yards square, an inch and a half thick, the felt covered by a canvas cover stitched over like a mattress to prevent it wrinkling. The cover looked well-used but still serviceable.

"Let me help you with your skirt, Mistress," Jenet said.

Garia lifted up her arms to let her maid untie the garment and remove it. Jenet then removed the sash, re-wrapping it around Garia's waist so as not to leave so much free before tying it again. Garia pulled the tunic's hem down, settling the too-broad shoulders of the garment on her own.

"I'm not sure what's going to happen next," she told Keren and Jenet. "If I were you, I'd just stay well clear for a while as I get on with it. I'll do the Tai Chi exercises first to loosen myself up and mentally prepare myself. It's something I'd do in any event back on Earth, so it makes sense to keep the routine up."

Keren and Jenet found a bench at the side of the room and sat down to watch. Jenet took the opportunity to empty the rest of the bag's contents out onto the bench, besides the towel there was a bottle of water and three metal beakers. Garia took up a position at one end of the mat and began her preparations.

As she went through the forms her mind cleared, but she was aware that while her body flowed from one to the next there was something different. Partly that was down to the softer surface she stood on, making her take extra care over her balance, but there was something else as well. She felt that she wasn't getting 'into the zone' as she had the other day outside on the field. Still, she felt reasonably loosened and stretched by the time she finished, ready to start the real business of the day.

I'll just start with some simple falls first, she thought. There's no sense doing any fancy stuff yet till I find out how this is all going to work.

She tensed and then fell forward into what was supposed to be a forward roll. Instead of smoothly rolling onto her shoulders and back onto her feet at the other side of the mat she fell badly, tumbling onto her side and rolling uncontrollably into a sprawled heap, hitting the wood floor at the side of the mat with the side of her left ankle with a bang. Both Keren and Jenet winced at the noise.

"Ow!" Garia pushed herself into a sitting position and pushed a finger down the inside of her soft boot to rub her ankle. "That's not supposed to happen."

Stupid. That should definitely not have happened. She cringed at the words that would have come from sensei at home had she fallen so badly then. Sloppy, sloppy. Try more carefully next time. Perhaps the mats are a little softer than you're used to. Yes, that's it. You'll have to compensate.

She stood and returned to her starting position, giving her audience a weak grin as she did so. She looked at the mat, estimating her position and where she intended to arrive at the end of the maneuver. Then she closed her eyes and tried to settle her mind. Her ankle still hurt. She leaned forward into the roll.

This time her whole body stayed on the mat but her final position was more undignified, one leg going over her other shoulder and giving Keren and Jenet a free view of everything, barely disguised by the thin tights she was wearing. Jenet pursed her lips at the exhibition but a side-wise glance at Keren's face showed that his only focus was on concern for Garia. She pulled herself to her feet.

"Uh, this doesn't seem to be going very well at the moment, does it?" she told them ruefully. "Let me try something else."

Damn, damn, damn! What is going on here? Is there some kind of difference here in the laws of physics or something? This should be dead easy, why isn't it? What am I doing wrong?

She attempted a fall to her other side but that ended in another undignified sprawl.

Fine, she thought as she got to her feet again. It must be me, it must be because I haven't done anything like this for a while. Heh, I have been otherwise occupied, haven't I? It's not surprising that I've gotten slack. Her chin set with renewed determination. I can do this, I know I can, I've done it many times before. I've just got to FOCUS, be more precise in my movements. It'll be like the Tai Chi, suddenly everything will come together the way it should.

She tried again and, while she didn't end up on her feet again at the end, it seemed to her that she had started to get a feel for how things should go. Unfortunately the next attempt ended with her banging her right elbow on the floor. Inside, she could feel the anger begin to bubble up. She got to her feet and tried some more times, each failing somehow differently than the previous attempt.

By now she was getting furious with herself for screwing up such simple exercises and she knew that she had to get a handle on her temper. It would be important to be clear-headed when facing an opponent and focus and clarity had been drilled into her as a basic requirement of her art. She walked to one end of the mat, stood with her eyes closed, her body relaxed and willed her breathing to stabilize. Slowly the fire died and her body became calm again. She attempted another roll and ended up spread-eagled on the mat.

Both Keren and Jenet were now becoming concerned about Garia. They had watched her tumble onto the mat like a rag doll but that was obviously not the purpose of the exercise. Keren could see what he thought she was trying to achieve but was unable to work out why she wasn't doing what seemed to be required. Jenet just looked at her mistress doing seemingly inexplicable actions and wished she would stop before she hurt herself.

Garia got up and walked over to them.

"I'm sorry," she said, "I thought this was going to be embarrassing and I guess I was right, wasn't I? I can't quite figure out what I'm doing wrong, though. These two moves are so simple anyone should be able to do them. I'm just going to have to work at it for a while, I guess. After all, that's the whole reason we're here, isn't it?" She gave them both an unconvincing smile and returned to her starting position.

I could do that, thought Keren. I can see exactly what she's supposed to be doing, and it's not much different than what we do in our own training. But, if I get on that mat and do it it'll destroy her confidence completely, won't it? After all, this is about her, not me. He cleared his face of all expression and leaned forward to watch her carefully.

Tumble followed fall, flail followed sprawl. She tried some other moves to see if it was something specific but it wasn't. For some reason it appeared that her body just didn't want to do what she thought she was asking it to.

This is RIDICULOUS! she fumed to herself. This can't be happening! I've tried to be calm, focused and precise and NOTHING has made any difference at all! By now several body parts were smarting from knocks or minor sprains and she knew that she was going to have more bruises by the end of the day. A new feeling was beginning to seep into her, one she had rarely ever encountered before: panic. This can't be happening! she thought again. I could do this before, it was easy! Why can't I do it now? I've GOT to do this, I have to! What's going to happen to me if I can't do any exercise at all? I don't want to end up just another feeble girl!

She climbed to her feet yet again, trying to keep her face away from her audience because she was afraid what they would see on it. She took a position at the side of the mat nearest them, facing away, her hands open and down by her sides, desperately trying to calm the humming stress chemicals inside her, struggling to control her breathing. She rolled forward again and again things went awry, this time somehow ending with her face-planting the mat. It was too much. She began shaking and the tears came unchecked.

"I can't do it, I can't do it," she sobbed, raising herself onto her elbows. "What's happening to me?"

Keren and Jenet came to their feet and were there within seconds as Garia rolled into a sitting position, one kneeling down either side of her. Jenet pulled out the inevitable cloth and started dabbing Garia's eyes. Garia put both arms round Jenet's waist and rested her head on the older woman's shoulder, the tears still flowing freely. Keren itched to comfort her as well but he knew he had to be careful here.

"I think it's time you took a break," he said as she quieted. "You've been at it the best part of a bell."

He stood and offered his hand to Garia. She reluctantly took it and he pulled her up easily.

"Thank you," she said, still desperately unhappy. "Perhaps you're right. Keren, it shouldn't be like this, these exercises are easy, basic. I just don't understand what I'm doing wrong."

They helped her to the bench and seated her between them. Jenet filled the three beakers and they each took a drink. It was going to be another hot day, and while the windows were all open as far as they would go, the air in the room was already getting warm. Garia was beginning to have a faint sheen of sweat on her exposed skin. Keren tossed down the rest of his water and then turned to her.

"I think I understand what's happening here," he mused.

Garia raised an eyebrow. How could he possibly know what was wrong? He had no experience in these kinds of arts, surely?

"I think," he continued, "that you're looking at this whole business from the wrong angle. I think that you're approaching this problem the same way I would."

Garia frowned. "But, that's a good thing, surely?"

"Yes, it would be a good thing," he replied, "if you were a boy. Look, you told me, both of us actually, that on Earth you were a boy about my age and size, correct?" She nodded mutely, unable to see what he was getting at. "And what you were doing over on that mat is exactly what I would do in your place. Something doesn't work, you try harder. You concentrate, you try to be more precise, you try to do exactly what you did the last time you got it to work. Am I correct?"

Garia nodded. Of course that's what she should do. Wasn't it?

"Now I don't know a great deal about the way female minds work," Keren smiled, "only Jenet here could tell you that, but I don't think they go about problem solving quite the same way we do. At least I don't think they do all the time. I think you're trying far too hard, far too early. But that's only part of the problem. You see, you've now got an entirely different body to deal with and that's what's causing your main difficulties. If you were a boy like me," he explained, "you'd have shoulders like mine. Instead you've got these."

He put his arm around her shoulders and was shocked by the visceral response his body produced. Maker, not now! Not while I'm trying to explain something important! He briefly hesitated, then, in control of himself again, he held her shoulders again.

"These are fine for a girl and you should be able to do what you want but you're probably compensating wrong because they're not so wide. Then there's these," he pointed to her hips. "Your weight distribution is all different, isn't it? You've got proportionally more of your body down there than I have. And wider hips means that your legs start from different places, don't they? That's got to have some effect on your balance, I would have thought. Not to mention what you have on your chest. Of course, you're now so much lighter than you must have been before, but that doesn't always mean that your muscles are that much weaker. You might be trying far too hard there as well."

Her numb brain tried to consider his words analytically. Her body was her body, wasn't it? The first couple days, true, she was stumbling all over the place, but then it had all smoothed out. She had unconsciously adapted to the body, or so she had assumed that she had. After all, everything had worked after that, hadn't it? Even the Tai Chi exercises? So what could be the problem?

The problem is, this whole body is a totally different shape than the one I had before. What I've done up till now has been totally on automatic pilot, but what I have to do here is control it in a way I've never attempted before. Keren's right, I'm attempting to use my remembered responses of my other body to control this one, and that's never going to work, they're too radically different. This is a girl body, not a boy body, and it's just not going to function the same.

That doesn't mean I can't get the results I want, though. Enough girls can do martial arts. Heck, girls can do a lot more than boys in that respect, can't they? Ballet dancing, cheer-leading, gymnastics, whatever. A girl's body is a lot more flexible than a boy's body.

She turned her face up to Keren's and gave him a weak smile. "Your Highness, I do believe you're right. It's something that should have occurred to me, and it didn't." She handed her beaker back to Jenet. "Now I know the problem, I should be able to do this, but it's going to take me longer than I thought. I've been using this body as though it were my old one, and that's never going to work. I'm going to have to re-learn how to do some things."

Garia stood up and walked back to the mat, seating herself cross-legged facing her two companions. Sitting this way is a heck of a lot easier than when I was Gary. Why didn't I realize that? This body is a lot more flexible than my old one. I guess it's a trade-off, men get speed and strength, women get flexibility and fine control. She looked at her arms, tapering down from the narrow shoulders to her delicate hands. I guess these are going to be shorter than if I was a guy the same size, she thought. But, hey, they seem to get the job done so far. Look at this skin, it's so smooth and soft, just like a baby's. I'm never going to get back the muscle tone I had before, am I? Perhaps I don't need it, though. I must weigh half what I did before.

She looked down at her thighs. Heh, I have a butt the size of Maryland! Okay, that's exaggeration, but they're certainly bigger than DC. She gave a mental smirk. Still, it feels nice and stable, it's a good foundation for this new body of mine. Keren is right, I have to approach this a whole different way. She closed her eyes, meditating.

Keren and Jenet watched as she just sat there, eyes closed. They had little idea what she was doing but they knew that she did, and that was what was important. They both just hoped that she could find the key to getting the most out of the person that she now was.

Garia's eyes flicked open, she unfolded her legs and stood up.

"More experiments," she said. "Nothing special."

She stood in the middle of the mat and swung her arms, round, and round, up and down, to and fro. She leaned over, forwards, backwards, sideways, twisted at her waist as far as she could go. She knew that the Tai Chi was supposed to cover all these limits but it had happened without her consciously being aware of it, this time it was different. Then she laid down flat on her back, swinging her legs as far as they could go in every direction, twisting her hips from side to side, bending her knees, wiggling her ankles.

She stood, moved to one side of the mat, composed herself and rolled. There was a stumble at the end but at least she was standing. The movement she had made was completely different than before. Different mass distribution, different muscle power, different body proportions, all had made a contribution. She felt a glow of satisfaction and she knew that everything was going to be all right.

The next roll was almost perfect and she repeated it several times before changing to the other side. Again, the first one was awkward but after that smooth, smooth. Then she moved on to other exercises and the two watchers knew that she had corrected whatever was wrong. The moves came faster and faster and both wondered at the violence implicit in this tiny figure. Finally she stopped whatever she was doing and came over to them.

"I need another drink."

She settled between them and held out her beaker for Jenet to fill.

"If that's a sample of what you're capable of," Keren remarked, "I'm not sure I want to meet you on a dark night."

She sniffed at him. "And why would that worry you, Your Highness? If you were out on a dark night, you'd have a squad of guardsmen around you, wouldn't you?"

He grinned. "If I met you, I think I'd need them." He sobered up. "Seriously, do you think you have solved your problem now?"

She replied just as seriously. "I don't know. I need to do some steady training to bring my muscle tone up before I can answer that properly. I need to do those movements till I'm sick of doing them, I need them to happen as pure reflex, no thought involved at all." There was a glint in her eye. "And, I'll need at least one sparring partner."

Keren pointed at the mat. "If that's a sample of what you have to offer us, then I want to know about it. Count me in." He gave a wry smile. "If you'll have me, that is."

"As you wish, Your Highness." Garia gave a flourish with her free hand. She turned to Jenet. "How much time do we have left this morning?"

"About a bell, Mistress. Don't forget, you'll have to go back to your suite and change before lunch."

Garia looked down at her sweat-stained clothes. "Oh, yes. I can't possibly turn up looking like this."

"Don't forget, lunch in your suite is an option," Keren reminded her.

Garia shook her head. "Not today. Don't forget yourself, Gerdas is taking us to do some paper-making this afternoon."

Garia returned to the mat and tried to go through all the single-person exercises and moves that she could think of. More than that would definitely require a partner. After a while she stopped to get her breath back. Just moving her body was so invigorating, she was flushed and happy. So happy, in fact, that her cheek muscles ached from the continuous grin on her face.

What else can this body do, she wondered. I reckon there are things I can do now that Gary would never have been capable of. Would never even have considered, in fact. There are things that boys do and things that girls do and there is very little overlap, now I think of it.

I'm a girl now, and that opens a whole load of doors I never knew were there to open. What do girls get up to? Ballet? Pshaw. Don't think there's anything like that going on in Palarand, and it looked like hard work anyway. Cheer-leading? Well, there's a lot involved in that, certainly. Lots of movements, jumping, wriggling and leg-kicking. Hmm. I wonder how high I can get my leg to go? I think I'll leave that experiment for another day. Gymnastics? Hmm. Maybe. I wonder if...

She moved to the floor at the end of the mat and then did a perfect cartwheel across it. Yay! I have never, ever, been able to do that before. Of course, being so light undoubtedly helps. She cartwheeled back. That's good fun! I could enjoy doing this. Her face grew a wide grin as she thought of something else. She moved off the mat to stand facing the others on a clear patch of floor, and then slowly moved her feet apart, sliding on the soft soles of the boots. Both her watchers gaped as she slid slowly down to do a perfect splits, one leg straight out either side of her body.

"I often wondered how girls could do this," she said, "now I know."

"That looks extremely painful," Keren said in an agonized voice.

"It would be for you," she told him. "Women's bone structure is sufficiently different than men's that we can nearly all do it without a problem. Besides which," she smirked, "I don't have any soft bits down there to get squashed, do I?"

Keren's answer was incoherent. Garia leaned forward and brought her legs together behind her, then rose to her feet.

"I think we'd better stop now, don't you think? I'd like to call the session a success, I just wish I could forget all about the first half of it."

"Don't worry, Garia, our lips are sealed," Keren managed a grin. "You plan to do this tomorrow?"

"And so on," she replied, "if Captain Bleskin permits us, of course." She thought. "There are other things I - we - could do," she added. "I'd like to try running round the field a couple times a week, and I'd like to try some of the weights, some of the weapons as well occasionally. That's something we can build up to over the coming days. You must tell me what you normally do when you train with the men."

Jenet handed Garia the towel and she wiped her head, face and neck. She downed the rest of the water and Jenet repacked the bag while Garia wrapped the skirt around her legs. Finally, with Jenet making sure everything looked suitably proper, they headed for the door.

~o~O~o~

"Mother."

"Keren, come in."

The Queen was in her sitting room, reading a document which Kendar had given her. The Chamberlain stood to one side of her chair.

"Uh, it's a personal matter, Mother."

"What? Oh, of course. Kendar, I'll talk to you about this after lunch, if I may."

"Certainly, Ma'am." Kendar bowed and then left the room, closing the door behind him.

"Sit down, dear," Terys said, indicating a chair. "How did Garia's session go this morning?"

"It was awkward to start with, Mother. Although she's been here almost two weeks now I didn't realize that she had such poor control over her body. Don't forget, she hasn't grown up with it, until she came here her body looked much like mine does, or so she has told us."

"I hadn't realized there would be a problem there, dear, but I suppose you're right. Go on."

"I managed to point this out to her."

"You did? That's good insight for someone so young. There are many much older than you, like me, for example, who wouldn't have worked that out quite so quickly."

"Thank you, Mother. Anyway, after that she tried some different things and then it all seemed to flow much easier. You watch her when you next see her, she even walks differently now, although I don't think she's realized that herself."

"So, this morning was a success, then?"

"Oh, yes. You should have seen the smile on her face. Now, it seems I have to get involved as well, and that's where a problem might arise."

"She did say that she would need partners. Oh!" Terys looked at Keren closely. "What happened?"

"We were comforting her when she couldn't get anything to work. I put my arm round her shoulders and, Mother, it was like nothing I've ever experienced before. I didn't know I could have feelings like that."

"Ah. Do you think it will cause a problem for you or Garia?"

Keren sighed. "I'm not sure. It's going to take a lot of will-power on my part, I think. We both know nothing more can happen, if that's what you're thinking. I just wish it wasn't so. I really wish it wasn't so."

"Hmm. Do you want to talk to your father about it?"

"If you think it will do any good. We both know his views on the subject."

"I think it would be better all round if you treat Garia as if she were your younger sister, dear. After all, that's almost exactly the position she holds in the palace at the moment. Try keeping your relationship like that and we'll see what happens. Have you said anything to her yet?"

"No, Mother. I hope the ground would swallow me up before I did that."

"No need to be so shy. She's a pretty young girl, after all, and you're a handsome young man, it's not surprising there's a spark between you. Nevertheless, you know you have to be careful here. Although you aren't betrothed to anyone yet, a day may come when the presence of an apparent rival in the palace may cause us problems."

"I understand, Mother."

~o~O~o~

Garia scowled.

"Mistress? Something wrong? Something we have forgotten?"

Gerdas was sitting beside Keren, facing Garia and Jenet as the carriage took them into the city. Although the leather blinds were pulled up and the four frayen were pulling the carriage along at a reasonable speed, it was still stuffy inside.

"No, Master Gerdas," she replied. "It's only just occurred to me, I carefully chose something light to wear to be able to cope with this weather but it's not going to be appropriate when we get there, is it?"

She was wearing a thin silk-over-cotton gown with a wide neck and short loose sleeves in the usual off-white fabric of most of her summer clothes. It had been carefully chosen to keep her cool, and they had paid special attention to detail as this was Garia's first trip outside the palace since she had arrived. Her one pair of outdoor shoes and a lightweight white straw hat with a fairly wide brim completed the ensemble, ensuring that she would not receive disapproval from any Palarand women who happened across her. Neither Garia or Jenet had considered what the conditions might be like inside of the building where they were going, where the apparatus for making paper had been set up.

"The shed, where the items you asked for have been put, is reasonably clean, Mistress, but how long it will stay this way I couldn't say. I don't know how much you will need to get involved, though. If your part is to seed us with ideas, as I understand it, then you may not wish to visit the sheds and workshops where the guilds conduct their business."

"Oh, but I do, Master Gerdas. There are sure to be questions which I can only answer in person. I'm sure there are much more practical clothes I could have worn than this gown had I thought about it." She gave him a wry smile. "I think I'll have to have another interesting conversation with Mistress Yolda."

He smiled back. "At least it should be a conversation this time and not a major battle."

The carriage pulled into a yard and stopped. Shortly a footman opened the door and Keren gestured Garia to emerge first. In this society at least, a woman could precede royalty where passage through doorways was concerned. After getting out she looked around while the others climbed down from the cabin. A typical factory yard, if one overlooked the fact that it was full of men and animals instead of machinery. Buildings of various heights, ages and construction methods lined the yard. A small delegation emerged from a double doorway in a corner of the yard and approached.

"Your Highness, so good of you to have come," the leader said, bowing towards Keren. He turned to the others. "Master Gerdas, welcome, everything is ready." His eyes went enquiringly to Garia.

"Master Selvar, let me present Mistress Garia to you," Gerdas said. "Despite the evidence of your own eyes, I can assure you that she is the one behind today's demonstration."

"Master Selvar." Garia curtseyed to him and received a bow in return. She noticed the doubtful expression he gave her. "Let's go in, and I'll show you what I'm made of."

The party went in the doorway Selvar had emerged from, leaving the carriage and the escort of six guardsmen in the courtyard. Inside it was much cooler for which Garia immediately gave thanks. It was a large workshop, and at the far end various smiths were hammering and beating away at metal items on their benches. Journeymen and servants were visible feeding charcoal to several furnaces in one corner, but the slight draft through the building thankfully kept the full heat away from the end where the party was. A familiar face came over to greet them.

"Master Tanon." Garia curtseyed.

"Greetings, Mistress. I'm glad you have arrived. We have made the frames as you instructed but I'm afraid I can't quite understand how the process is intended to work. If you'll come with me?"

He led the way over to a bench against the wall upon which was a rectangular copper tank about three feet by two and a foot deep filled with a milky liquid. Beyond that was a huge wooden-framed press with a wooden screw down the middle of it, turned by capstan bars. At the end was a pair of millstones being worked by hand by two journeymen, causing a small stream of milky liquid to ooze into a bucket below the outlet.

Tanon held up a wooden frame, about twelve inches by ten, over which fabric had been tightly stretched and nailed.

"This is what you described, Mistress? I can see that you can pick up the ground wood pulp with it, but I fail to see what you do with it next."

Selvar spoke. "Ah, Master Tanon, it's quite obvious! You collect the pulp and then leave the frame in the sun to dry out the mixture. Isn't that right, Mistress?"

"May I have a look, Master Tanon?"

She took the frame from Tanon and examined it.

"Uh, I think you have the cloth on the wrong way. The smooth side is supposed to be on the outside."

"But, Mistress," Tanon protested, "if the smooth side is outwards then the pulp will slide off, surely?"

"You have to do it that way, because the next step is to sandwich another frame on top and put them both in the press," she explained. "Then you can squeeze water out of the paper and press the fibers together at the same time. Look, I'll show you."

"But, you said the fabric is on the wrong way."

"It doesn't matter so much for this demonstration. It just means the paper will have a slightly rougher surface. Now, can somebody lend me an apron, please?"

One of the journeymen, blushing furiously, found the least dirty apron in the room and Garia put it on with Jenet's help. She took the frame and walked over to the copper tank, asking for and receiving a box to stand on so she was high enough. Holding the frame in both hands she slid it into the tank up to her elbows and swirled the liquid around before slowly raising the frame out again.

There was a thin film of pulp on the cloth. Garia had only ever seen this process demonstrated on television and she had no idea whether it was going to work or not. She examined what she had dredged out.

"I think we need more wood pulp in the mix," she said. The two journeymen brought the bucket across and added it to the tank. "We don't want a sludge," she explained, "more a kind of smooth soup. Let me try now."

This time when she brought out the frame it was clear that a layer of pulp had been deposited evenly across the cloth. She let it drain for a few moments and then asked for the second frame. This was placed on top and then she led the group towards the press. There was a wait until the right sized blocks of wood were found and placed and then the frames were arranged in the press and the pad screwed down, the journeymen heaving on the bars. Everyone watched attentively.

"I have no idea how this is going to work out," she told her audience. "I have seen this done but I am by no means an authority on the process. Once you understand the basic principle it will be up to you to experiment, to try different woods, different ways of grinding or pulping, different textures of cloth, ways of improving the finish of the resulting paper. You do not even need to use wood, it is just that you have a surplus of waste sawdust which can be used to start with. You can try different vegetable matter like straw, grass, even fibers such as are in our clothes. Just experiment, and you will find many answers. Release the press, if you please."

Once the screw had been lifted she took out the two frames.

"Now we have to release the paper from the frames. At this stage it is still damp and very fragile. I'll need a rounded piece of wood that will fit inside this frame, please."

"Oh!" said Tanon. "Now I understand why you asked for that."

He passed over the length of dowel requested and Garia used it to release the paper from the top frame before turning the remaining frame over and repeating the action. The rough sheet of paper fell onto the bench and Garia gingerly picked it up between finger and thumb.

"There you are, gentlemen, Palarand's - Anmar's - first ever sheet of paper. Now it needs to be hung up on a line to dry in the air." She looked at Selvar. "Direct sunlight probably isn't a good idea, since the paper might distort as it dries. Very gentle heat from a nearby fire might do, though. A warm room like this is fine. Once it's dry you can trim the rough edges off and write on it just like you would a piece of parchment."

One of the journeymen quickly hammered out two basic clips from a sliver of sheet iron and the paper was hung up on a line over the bench to dry. There was an immediate rush of questions which Garia did her best to answer. Yes, they could make the frames bigger. Yes, they could use other fabrics than silk, this was just to ensure that they obtained a good result today. Yes, any trimmings could be re-used. The press needn't be that big, they weren't pressing barrels of fruit after all. They could make paper of different thicknesses, thin was called tissue paper, thick was called card. They could add other substances to the mix to improve the surface texture, or for other reasons. Try a small amount of white clay, for example. They might need to mix different inks to get the best out of the paper. Did they realize that they could add dyes to the mix to get colored paper?

Everyone present except Jenet had a go at making a sheet of paper, with variable results. By the time that the royal party had to leave there were twelve sheets hanging from the line, and the guildsmen had broken into small groups to talk animatedly about paper making.

"Another success, Mistress!" Gerdas told her. "If paper is this easy to make, then I can understand how your world has so much of it."

"Master Gerdas, you have no idea." Garia thought she would wait some time before she told him that on Earth people used it to blow their noses or wiped their bottoms with it. "Getting a consistent product might not be so easy, though. We'll leave these gentlemen to have fun experimenting for now. We have to be getting back to the palace for the evening meal, and then we have a meeting afterwards."

"I'm looking forward to it, Mistress! The things we have to discuss tonight all affect my craft greatly."

"Astronomy is no longer a craft, Master Gerdas, it should properly be called a science."

Before they left Garia was presented with her sheet of paper, ironically carefully wrapped inside a folder of parchment to protect it. She would be displaying it during the evening's meeting. The carriage returned through the baking streets to the palace and everyone immediately retired to their rooms to prepare for dinner. In Garia's case that meant having the third bath of the day before selecting a suitable evening gown to wear. This was, of course, full length and of the finest fabric she could find to make the evening heat as bearable as possible.

When they got to the dining room they found Gerdas animatedly talking to Parrel, who had arrived in advance of the meeting. Parrel's journeyman Tarvan stood alone to one side, ignored by the two Masters deep in conversation. Garia took pity on him and went over to greet him.

"Uh, I'm sorry, I don't know how to address you," she said with a smile.

"Um," Tarvan stammered, coloring, "Mistress, I don't have a title, you should just use my name. When I finish my indenture I would be called Master like Master Parrel, but until then I'm just Tarvan. If I were to own a property in Palarand then I could be called Freeman, but I'm not the son of a merchant or land-owner so I have no title."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that, Tarvan." She leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially into his ear. "Actually, I'll let you into a secret, I don't have lands either, and you can see I'm not a merchant. I've no idea why they call me Mistress."

"But, but for women it's different, Mistress. The rules are complicated, but mostly it is the case that a woman's status is derived from her father's or her husband's status."

"That makes it even worse," she said. "I have no father or husband on Anmar. Still, my father on Earth could be considered a merchant, so perhaps I am being addressed correctly. Now, I have a question for you. I assume you've been journeyman for some time, you understand the basics of your craft?"

"Aye, Mistress, that is so. I have less than one year left of the six, I know about most aspects that a metalsmith needs to know." He stopped, thought, then grinned at her shyly. "I was going to say, Mistress, that you could ask me questions but there are things that are secret to the guilds, but then I realized that you probably know more than we do anyway. Is that not so?"

Garia smiled back. "Yes and no, Tarvan. I probably know quite a bit about what you're taught for your craft, but what I don't know is how your state of knowledge on Anmar compares to that on my home world. Do you follow me?"

"Ah, of course, Mistress. What did you want to know?"

"Copper." Tarvan nodded. "Do you have techniques for drawing copper wire?" He looked at her questioningly. "Um, wire as fine as the thickness of my fingernail, say?"

"Aye, Mistress," Tarvan answered slowly. "We can draw wire from copper like that, although I don't know if we make it that fine. It would be too weak for use as a binding or as a filigree decoration in a jewelry piece if the wire was that thin."

Garia's smile was wide. "That sounds good enough to me. How long a piece could you draw, do you think? A foot? A stride? A mark?"

Tarvan goggled at her question. "But... Mistress! Why would you ever need a fine copper wire that long? Do you make nets, ropes from it?"

"Something entirely new to Anmar, Tarvan. Something that will make a huge difference to your entire world."

Tarvan stared at her. "Mistress, should you be talking to me this way? Should you not address your questions to Master Parrel?"

"Master Parrel will shortly find that he has too much work to do it all himself, and I think you'll be handling different projects all of your own. Besides, what I'm asking about is still in the planning stage as yet, and those two are busy at the moment." She indicated the two Masters.

"As you say, Mistress. Uh, your question, I suppose that you could draw any length you required, if you had enough copper and the fuel to melt it with."

Garia nodded, and gave Tarvan another smile as she rested her hand briefly on his arm. "Thank you Tarvan, that's just what I hoped you'd say. We'll continue this discussion another time, I think. Tell me, how is the production of forks coming on?"

Tarvan grinned. "Master Parrel has contracted out manufacture of forks, just as Her Majesty guessed he would. I believe that they will be delivered to the palace weekly for some time to come." He fumbled at his pouch and came up with a cylinder of cloth. "To demonstrate the item to our fellow metalsmiths we had some samples made, and neither Master Parrel nor myself can eat a meal without having a fork nearby now. I can't imagine how I ever managed without one before. We have brought our own to use at the King's table."

Tarvan unrolled the cloth to display his fork. Garia took it and held it up to the light to examine it. The metalsmiths had made their samples to a different pattern than that of the palace cutlery but they still looked like a good, well-finished product to Garia. She handed the fork back.

"You've made a good job of that."

"Thank you, Mistress."

"Now, shall we take our seats ready for the meal?"

The evening's council meeting see the release of telescopes and paper and discussion of several other subjects. Later, Jenet discloses a near-embarrassing moment and Garia relives a strange memory.

Somewhere Else Entirely

by Penny Lane

18 - Parrel Gets Busy

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

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They met in the same room they had previously, but there were differences. The numbers were greater, besides Robanar, Terys, Keren and Garia there were Bleskin and Merek, Gerdas, Tanon, Parrel, Tarvan and Margra the healer. Sitting beside Master Scribe Pitchell were two further scribes which he introduced as Korben and Merinar. Since much of what Garia had to tell the council needed to be described by way of pictures, a blackboard and chalk had been provided at one side of the room. There was also another man whom Robanar introduced.

"Mistress Garia, may I present Master Hurdin of the Glassmaker's Guild. Hurdin, this is Mistress Garia who is the reason for tonight's meeting." Robanar turned to Garia. "You asked for a glass-maker for tonight's meeting so I decided to get the best. Hurdin is the Guildmaster, I imagine there is nothing he doesn't know about his craft."

Garia nodded to the stranger, who was little taller than herself. He was late middle aged, perhaps, and the top of his head was bald although a white fringe ran round the edges. His face and scalp were reddened but from standing near furnaces rather than through drink. His arms, visible below the short sleeves of his best tunic, were broad with muscles and covered with dense hair. The hands were large and heavily scarred from his life of working with hot glass.

"Mistress," he said, giving her a slight bow. His face tried to hide his puzzlement at the reason a young girl should be involved. Garia wasn't too bothered as she knew Robanar would put him straight once the meeting started.

"Master Hurdin," she responded, "every single person takes one look at my face and body and fails to understand my purpose here. This meeting should satisfy every question that you might have."

"I've told him, Mistress," Robanar said, "but, as you say, it is difficult for others to see past your appearance."

Because of the new people present Robanar brought out his crown and made them take the oath that the existing council members had taken, and then they all found seats around the big table. The first part of the evening was spent bringing the newcomers up to speed.

Once this was complete Bleskin lifted a long box onto the table and took from it a telescope, the same pattern as the ones on the roof. Gerdas explained the use of such instruments and what he had seen, and then Garia stood and told them some of the other uses that were possible. Besides mariners at sea she mentioned semaphore systems for signaling and use as a surveying instrument.

"Although the telescope up till now has been kept a state secret," Robanar told them, "Mistress Garia has argued that their use should be made fully public. Gerdas has added his reasons to hers and I believe that I am prepared to agree. Bleskin?"

"A military man has a general reluctance to let his enemy have control over any advantage he might get, Sire, as you well know. However, I agree with Mistress Garia that since we are not at war with anyone it will be difficult to keep the secret long. In fact, being able to use them freely will make my own task that much easier. Given the many other uses to which a telescope may be put I give my consent to the telescope being made available to all who wish it."

"Anyone else have a view?"

"Sire," Parrel said, "does this mean that we will shortly be asked to make a significant number of these devices?"

"It does, Parrel," Robanar replied. "Although I understand that Mistress Garia has improvements to suggest about the design."

"Aye, Sire, Master Gerdas has mentioned brass tubing, and I must say I wish that I had thought of it. In that case, we will move into production as soon as possible." He frowned. "What with the production of forks, and paper, and now telescopes, we are going to become quite busy."

"Master Parrel," Garia put in, "I'll have something to say about that later, if I may."

"Mistress." He bowed in her direction.

"Agreed, then," Robanar said. "Telescopes from this day forth are no longer secret but from tomorrow shall be manufactured for sale like any other device. Pitchell, you may need to make a separate list for items we permit to be disclosed, in case there is future need to clarify anything."

"Sire."

Garia said, "Sire, I have something to add about telescopes to Mistress Margra, who is looking understandably confused as to exactly what she is doing here."

"Well, yes, Mistress," Margra said. "I think I understood from the descriptions given what it is a telescope does, but I fail to see how such a device has anything to do with me or those I represent." She started and then added, "Unless there is some application in the solving of crime? You mentioned certain methods when we examined Master Morlan's body, is that what you mean?"

"As always, Mistress Margra," Garia smiled at her, "the answer is yes and no. There is no direct connection, it is true, but you may understand when you hear my explanation. In your healing duties, do you have any knowledge of the causes of diseases of the body? I would guess that you do not."

"That is true, Mistress. There is much conjecture but no agreement as to the cause of any disease or of how it is transmitted from person to person."

"Most diseases are caused by... creatures... life-forms... too small to be seen by the naked eye," Garia explained. "If you think about what a telescope does, it takes an image of something far away and gives a larger version to you, making it appear closer."

Margra nodded. "That much I did understand, yes."

"The point is, it takes something small and makes it appear larger. Now, if you make a special version of a telescope, you can use it to investigate things so small you would not know they were there. On Earth we call that a microscope. Here, I'll draw you some diagrams to explain how the system works."

She stood by the blackboard and drew a cutaway of a telescope, showing how the light was bent by the lenses and how it was focused. Then she drew a microscope, showing both the similarities and differences.

"So, because the area you can view will be so small, you have to put the sample you wish to examine on a glass slide, that is a small piece of flat glass that can be slid under the lens here," she indicated. "The light can come from above or below, that will make a difference to what you can see."

"How big will these microscopes of yours be, Mistress?" Parrel asked. "As big as this telescope here?"

"Not at all, Master Parrel. The ones I've used are about so big." She raised her hand a foot above the table and shrugged. "Some might be larger, some smaller. You will be able to examine plant and animal tissue to find out more about the natural world. Master Gerdas, didn't you mention once that one of your colleagues is away exploring the plants in a remote region?"

Gerdas nodded. "I did, Mistress. You imply that he would be able to use this instrument to examine the samples he brings back with him?"

"He would. In fact, he might take a microscope with him on his travels, if one can be made compact enough. Master Parrel, you could also use this tool to inspect the work your Guild produces. It can only help to improve the quality of your output."

"I understand the possibilities, Mistress, but making these as well will involve yet more work for us."

She bowed her head. "Of course, and we can talk about that later." She turned to Margra again. "On the general subject of health, again, I must repeat that as a young person I don't have a great knowledge of the subject but I can certainly add to your understanding."

Margra sat up and took notice. "Mistress, what do you mean when you say, 'health'?"

"This is related to what I said earlier about tiny organisms causing disease," Garia said. "I'd like to tell you how we started discovering what caused disease, and then how we prevent people becoming infected. In the home or at work, for example, after operations, or while they're recovering from an injury."

Garia began describing the nineteenth-century processes which led to the discovery of bacteria, and the measures that had to be taken to ensure cleanliness during operations or childbirth. She learned that the healers of Alaesia had discovered some of these by accident so conditions here were better than she might have expected. The local healers didn't know why their precautions worked, only that they did, and so Garia's explanations were a revelation. They were already washing hands and cleaning instruments, although not boiling them, and Garia gave them other ideas to help the healing process along. There was extensive use of herbal remedies but no-one had the means to examine the herbs and identify or extract the specific ingredients which made them useful. Margra agreed to meet Garia with several of her colleagues for further discussions, since some of the others at the table were becoming restive.

"Sire," she asked Robanar, "the council is going to need to meet much more often, unless you will consent to me meeting like this in small groups. We can always bring our conclusions to the full council afterwards for approval."

"You think it is necessary, Mistress?"

"Since this evening, yes, Sire. I will need to talk to various parties about different subjects, and while all can become involved at some level a lot of it is going to become plain boring to others. Not everyone here is going to be interested in metalworking, for example, or the details of some new machine, or the methods of healers."

Robanar nodded. "You may be right, Mistress. But I would ask you to agree such meetings with myself or the Queen before you confirm them."

"As you command, Your Majesty. In that case, Sire," she added, "I believe we may continue with our planned meeting."

Robanar told the others, "For the next item for discussion tonight, Mistress Garia will talk about a new numbering system which I am led to believe will make all our lives easier."

Garia again stood at the blackboard and wrote the numbers down just as she had done previously, and explained how easy it would be to use them to make calculations, giving examples they could all follow. She found it interesting how the frowns over the strange symbols suddenly turned to expressions of delight as the method sunk in to each person's mind. It was clear that she would have no need to sell this to the council.

"Pitchell," Robanar said, "we will implement this new system immediately, although of course it will take some time to teach it to all those who need it. Can you make up an instruction sheet and have it copied? I want this system to be spread around Palarand as fast as possible."

"As you command, Sire. I must consult with Mistress Garia about the symbols she uses, they are strange to us and I want to ensure that I do not make any mistakes."

"Of course, Master Pitchell."

"Master Pitchell," Garia asked him then, "do you understand what I mean by printing?"

"I know the term of course, Mistress. The method is mainly used for adding pictures to manuscripts, if that is what you refer to."

She turned to the metalsmiths, holding up a fork. "Master Parrel, on the back of this fork, you have stamped some marks."

"Aye, Mistress, a maker's mark together with a silver quality mark."

It was plain that neither man could figure out the connection.

"I would like to talk to both of you together tomorrow afternoon, if I may? I have another idea, requiring both of you, which will speed up the copying of documents."

"If you say so, Mistress." Parrel appeared puzzled.

"Then can you bring with you your set of stamps, punches, whatever you call them."

"As you wish, Mistress."

At Garia's sign that the interruption was over, Robanar asked her, "Mistress, I understand that you were successful in making paper today."

"Yes, Sire, we were, and I have here the very first sheet made today with my own hands."

Garia opened the envelope and carefully lifted out the sheet she had made. Looking at it she wished that it had been tossed back into the copper bath as it was flimsy and ragged. In the workshop it had seemed reasonable for a very first attempt but seeing it now she shuddered.

"Since this is the first one we ever did it is not all that good, Sire." She passed it, on top of the parchment, to Robanar to examine. "I can promise you that much better quality sheets will be produced in time, and you will wonder why you ever bothered with parchment." Pitchell looked up from his dictation with an interested expression. "I suggest that Master Pitchell accompanies us the next time we go to the paper-making workshop, as a representative of those who will use paper, he may have suggestions to make."

"I also have a sheet I made," Tanon said, pulling out a parchment folder like Garia's. "While I am no expert in such things I could see that it is simple to produce, and in quantity."

The sheets were passed from person to person and inspected closely before being returned to their owners.

"Another invention I have no hesitation in declaring of public interest," Robanar said. "Pitchell, add it to the list."

"Sire."

"What next, Mistress?"

"I wanted to talk to Master... I'm sorry, what was your name again?"

"Hurdin, Mistress." He seemed uncomfortable. "These things you have shown us here tonight are interesting, Mistress, and I can see where your new method of numbers is going to come in very handy, but I don't see why I am here. The art of blowing glass has been practiced for hundreds of years in Palarand and I don't think there can be much more improvement to be made."

"Master Hurdin," she began, and then thought. He sounded resistant and she didn't want to put him off. "Master Hurdin, there is a great deal that can be done with glass-making. For example, the windows to this room, the panes of glass aren't very big, are they?"

Hurdin looked superior. "That's due to the nature of glass, Mistress. You can't make flat sheets much bigger than that because they sag or crack as the glass cools. We've tried any number of times to come up with a way to do it, there isn't one."

"Well, Master Hurdin," she replied, "on Earth, each of those windows would be a single pane of glass, so flat and clear that sometimes you might not realize that there's glass there at all."

Hurdin regarded her with suspicion. "Are you making fun of me, Mistress?" He turned to Robanar. "Sire, I did not come here to be insulted. By a girl."

Robanar bristled. "Hurdin, I should remind you that Mistress Garia's knowledge is the entire reason for this council. She has taken an oath that within this room she will only state the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. It is she who has been insulted, not you."

"Sire, I beg your pardon," Hurdin said, lowering his gaze. "I find her statements hard to believe."

"Oh, Master Hurdin," Garia said. "It gets much worse than that. We have windows much bigger than that. In fact, most of our shops have windows instead of front walls and the panes of glass must be four or five strides on a side. In fact we have many buildings which have walls entirely of glass."

"Mistress, how is this possible?" Hurdin seemed to be having a hard time understanding what he had heard.

"Oh, we make glass a totally different way to you," she said. "Now, as I have said several times already, I am not an expert, but it is perfectly possible to make large sheets of flat glass. In fact, we have factories several Marks long with sand going in one end and a never-ending stream of glass sheets coming out the other."

"This is insane," Hurdin said, "Begging your pardon, Mistress. How can this be possible?"

"I believe the term used is float glass. Now, what would happen if you poured glass onto a perfectly flat surface, Master Hurdin? Assume it had been heated so that the glass cooled slowly."

"Why, it would stick to the surface, Mistress. As any glass-blower would tell you."

"Ah, but suppose your surface is a liquid?"

"Why, then..." He looked at her helplessly. "But what kind of liquid can you pour molten glass onto? Surely it would boil instantly?"

"Not everything would boil, Master. Master Parrel, could you supply Master Hurdin with a bath of molten tin?"

The two men gaped at her as the idea became obvious to them both. Hurdin looked at Parrel.

"I'll call on you first thing tomorrow morning, Parrel," Hurdin said. "It shouldn't take us long to get something set up." He turned back to Garia. "Mistress, you have my sincere apologies. The idea is obvious, but first someone has to think of it."

"As you say, Master Hurdin." She gave him a smile to show that there were no hard feelings. "There's more, Master. On my world we only use human glass-blowers for special hand-made glass objects these days. Most glassware other than sheets, of course, is made in molds using compressed air."

"Molds?" asked Hurdin. "How does it not stick to the mold? What is compressed air?"

She shrugged. "I'm not sure about the molds. Maybe they are made of metal alloys that don't stick. Maybe the glass isn't in the mold long enough, or the ingredients are different, or the temperature is higher or lower. I'm not a glass maker, but I know that it is possible to do these things, I've seen them."

"You've seen them, Mistress? You were allowed into a glass-maker's workshop? Do the guilds where you come from allow women into their places of work, then?"

Oh. Fun times. How the heck do I explain this little lot to them? Television, lack of guilds - but we do have unions instead, tourists watching glass blowing? Garia sighed. This could be a long evening.

"Sire, in order to answer Master Hurdin I'm going to have to explain some background, and that's probably going to use up the rest of the evening. With your permission?"

"Was there anything else you wished to specially tell us tonight, Mistress?"

"There is much, Sire, but I would rather spend time and prepare for a future session if I may," Garia replied to the King. "What I want to tell Master Hurdin tonight will be useful for everyone else to hear, as it will give you all an idea of how I lived before I came to Anmar."

"Very well, Mistress."

"Thank you, Sire. All right. Firstly, Master Hurdin, there are no Guilds on Earth, leastways they still exist in some places but only as ceremonial organizations. We do have groupings of workers in particular industries called unions but they are more concerned with protecting the rights of the workers.

"Next, there is very little distinction, in theory at least, between men and women where work is concerned. Naturally, because of the demands of any particular job, men get drawn to some and women to others. That's why blacksmiths tend to be men and healers tend to be women, for example. You'll probably have to start training and employing women yourselves at some time, simply because there won't be anyone else to do the work."

The look on Hurdin's face showed resentment that a girl was telling him he had to let women into his guild, but given what she had just told him he knew that glass-making would be changing forever. He merely gave her a resigned nod.

"As for letting me into a glass-maker's workshop," she continued. "I have never been to such a place, and if I did they probably wouldn't let me in as such places can be dangerous for those who don't know what they're doing." Hurdin and Parrel nodded agreement at her. "But we have methods of recording images of such things and playing them back to anyone who cares to view them. Um, let me see."

She looked round the room. On the walls were paintings of some of Palarand's earlier kings and she pointed to one of them hung beside the blackboard.

"Imagine that this is a device, a little thicker than that frame, we call a television. The working part has a glass front, yes Master Hurdin, a single piece of glass that big. Instead of a painting, behind that glass is a complicated mechanism which receives pictures from somewhere many marks away and shows them to the viewer, complete with sounds. We have televisions like that in every house, sometimes in many of the rooms.

"The other side of this process is a place called a transmitter which sends out the pictures. I have seen many such pictures which have given me some knowledge of things I would never get to experience otherwise. So, I have seen demonstrations of paper-making, and programs showing what happens inside glass factories and many other things besides."

"Maker!" Hurdin was a white as a sheet and the others were almost as pale. Garia took pity on them.

"Not to worry, Masters, the devices I have just described to you, you won't be able to build for at least a hundred years or more. I just wanted you to understand how it is I have some knowledge of certain things without having direct experience of them." She added, "Of course, there are many things I do have direct experience of. Quite a lot of what I tell you will be common-place where I come from."

"But, Mistress," Parrel said, "if we are unable to make any of these marvelous things that you describe, why do you describe them to us? It seems very frustrating to me, just like the bracelet you showed Tarvan and me which tells you the time."

"For two reasons, Master Parrel. First, because of the way some ideas happen it is possible you might never stumble across them over the years. I'm just making sure you do get those ideas, even if you can't do anything with them yet. Second, because Master Pitchell is writing everything down, and in the future a time will come when these things could be built, and you will then know that it is possible to build them because I told you that they had once been built on Earth."

Parrel nodded. "I understand, Mistress." He shrugged, helplessly. "It just seems so... annoying to be told about things that are out of reach."

Garia smiled at him. "There will be plenty of new things you will be able to make, don't worry about that. Next time, we will talk about the key ideas which will get this whole business moving. Ideas which should eventually ease your problems about manpower."

Robanar raised an eyebrow. "You already plan our next meeting, Mistress?"

"Sire, I am. I'm beginning to get a feel for what we need to do next but before then there are some things I must find out. I don't want to say too much more without information about Palarand and its resources, and I don't think it's a good use of everyone's time if I sit here and you all tell me about your country... and that brings me back to the general point I wanted to talk about." She regained her seat and took a deep breath.

"Your Majesties, Your Highness, Masters, Freemen. Master Parrel is concerned about the amount of work we are making for him, and he is right to be. I've been thinking about this for some days now, about what will happen to Palarand. I tell you this, in the next few years it must mean a change in the way you all operate. There will simply be too much to do for Palarand to continue in the way you do now. I don't know how your guilds operate, Master Parrel, but I'm afraid that they are going to have to change significantly if they are to survive at all."

"Mistress?" Parrel stood. "Are you threatening the Guild system?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes. What I'm saying is that you're going to need so many people to make the objects and devices I'm going to tell you about that your current methods won't work. Tarvan here told me that he has a six-year indenture. You can't afford to take that long to train people. If you do, by the time you've finished, what you've told them will be out of date. You're going to have to find another way."

Parrel looked shaken. "Mistress, I am horrified by what you tell me. And yet, I am so intrigued by what you have shown us so far that I know that there is no way back." He turned to the King. "Sire, I wish to learn more about what is to come, if I did not I would not be here tonight. But I will have to call a meeting of all the Guildmasters to try and consider what we will need to do in the future."

"I understand, Parrel, that is your right. Remember, though, that we are set on this course, Guilds or no Guilds."

"As you say, Sire."

Garia resumed. "You will end up employing far more people than you do today, Master Parrel. The population of Palarand, the country as well as the city, is going to expand immensely. There is going to be a huge demand for building, as well as roads, water, sewage and all that goes with cities, not to mention food. Palarand may increase in population by ten times in the next thirty years, and you will need every one of those people."

"Maker!" someone muttered.

"You will need more of everything that is around now as well as all the new things. You'll need a bigger City Guard, for example, each man of which will need equipping. More carriages, more frayen, more stables, more wagoneers. The list goes on."

"You make your point well, Mistress," Parrel said, nodding. "Very well, I will talk this over with my fellow Guildmasters. If I were to ask you to attend our meetings, would you consent to come?"

"If your fellow Guildmasters will consent to listen to a young woman," she replied with a wry smile, "then I will."

"Mistress," Robanar asked her, "I assume that this will mean greater prosperity for Palarand?"

"It should, Sire, and for all those countries which surround it, as well."

"Trade," Tanon said. "If we produce items that people want, they are going to buy them from us. Forks, for example. That means money coming into the country, with which we can buy our needs from our neighbors." He shrugged. "Sire, a discussion we must have sometime soon, I think."

"Sire," Parrel said, "the changes Mistress Garia brings will make Palarand unrecognizable. Can I ask if you understood what would happen when you agreed to set up this," he waved his arm around the room to encompass them all, "council?"

"Master Parrel, I did," Robanar replied. "Although as a rule the peoples of Alaesia do not believe in things we cannot see, like chance, fate, and luck, it was plain that Mistress Garia's unusual appearance was some kind of signal that she would bring change to us. I was then left with the three choices of accepting the consequences, ignoring them or attempting to prevent them. If I accepted them, then the safest place for Mistress Garia to be was here in the palace, and that was our decision.

"The first alternative was to turn her loose in the world, to let her make her way as best as she could. That would simply mean that some other country would seek to exploit whatever they might get her to reveal. She tells us only what she chooses to tell us and she does that freely. Another country might not be so generous, and I don't have to draw a picture for any of you, I think.

"The second alternative, one which existed but which the Queen and I never seriously considered, would have been to prevent her making any changes at all. We could only have done that by imprisoning her somewhere remote and effectively ignoring her, or by executing her, either immediately or later."

The cold way in which Robanar explained his thought processes chilled Garia to the bone. She understood his reasoning, though, and after all he was the King. He was not the ruler of a pseudo-monarchy like those in Europe, which had governments which actually did the ruling, Robanar was an old-style absolute monarch, and right at the moment she was extremely glad he was.

Parrel bowed. "Thank you, Sire. I guessed at most of your reasoning, and knowing you I wouldn't have expected you to have made any other decision. The years ahead will prove busy for all of us, but being busy means improved income if nothing else. I look forward to the new inventions and ideas to come. I will have to take Mistress Garia's words to heart, and learn to 'think big'."

"You have no idea, Master Parrel," Garia smiled at him. "You have no idea."

~o~O~o~

"Whew!" Garia sat down heavily on the foot of the bed. "I don't think I'll have much trouble sleeping tonight, Jenet."

"No, Mistress. You used a lot of energy this morning, didn't you?"

"Uh, sort of. It was always there inside me, I'm just glad I've found a way of getting it out. Is that the tunic I wore this morning? How did you get it cleaned up so quickly?"

"Oh, that was easy, Mistress. When you settled down for your after-lunch nap I rinsed the clothes you wore this morning in the bath and then hung them out in the dressing room. At this time of year it's warm enough for clothes to dry very quickly, and then I ran the iron over them this evening after I left you with the King."

"Ah! Good, I was wondering how I was going to manage, seeing how sweaty I got this morning."

"This is only a temporary measure, Mistress. I assume that when you ask Mistress Yolda for clothes that fit you properly, you'll ask for several sets and then we can just put them in the palace laundry like everything else." Jenet put down the tunic and rose from her seat. "There is one thing I discovered, though."

Jenet went into the dressing room and returned carrying the tights, which she spread apart for Garia's inspection. Between the legs the seam had begun to part.

"Oh!" Garia reddened with embarrassment. "Do you think he saw anything?"

Jenet shook her head. "No, Mistress, I don't think so. This must have happened when you did that amazing thing with your legs right at the end, neither of us would have seen anything as your tunic would have covered it." She folded the tights over her arm. "When you have your proper clothes made, Mistress, we can ask for more material down there to allow for your movements." She looked apprehensively at Garia, licking her lips. "Mistress, should I be expected to make my legs go apart like that?"

Garia did a double-take. "Oh, no, Jenet! Not at all! I would think that you wouldn't be flexible enough to do anything like that, and no-one is going to make you, anyway. You see," she explained, "on Earth, girls who want to do gymnastics like that start young, say seven or eight years old or maybe even younger. Then, as they grow up, their bodies stay more flexible from all the training so they can continue to bend their bodies like you saw me do, even when they are as old as you." She hesitated. "Actually, I was a little surprised that I could do it without any resistance, but I'm sure going to keep doing it now, so my body stays flexible."

"Thank you, Mistress. There are traveling groups who have acrobats and others who do things with their bodies, I wasn't sure whether you were suggesting we should all be able to do those things."

"Ah, no, Jenet, you're quite safe as you are. There's no reason, though, why you couldn't do the Tai Chi exercises if you wanted to. I'll be getting the Prince to start them tomorrow, would you like to try as well? It will help to keep you supple and your muscles properly stretched each day."

"If you think that I can do them, Mistress," Jenet answered cautiously. "Would I need to change into any special clothes like yourself and the Prince?"

"No, I think you'll be able to manage as you are. Would that be a yes, then? I don't want to make you do them if you don't want to, it has to be your own decision."

Jenet nodded hesitantly. "Then I will try, Mistress."

"Look, if you don't think that it would be a good idea you doing the exercises, then you can stop and I won't think badly of you. Just give them a try, fair enough?"

"Yes, Mistress, and thank you."

Garia yawned. "Time to get this gown off, then."

After they had both changed and Garia had been settled in her bed, Jenet had blown out all but one of the oil lamps in the bedroom, and, clutching the last lamp, entered her 'closet' and closed the door. Garia lay perfectly straight in bed, her arms folded tightly below her breasts. Very slowly, she began to relax. Very gradually, hesitantly, she released her tight control and allowed herself to examine the strange thing that had happened to her earlier that day.

When she had broken down on the mat, finally admitting to herself that what she had desired was never going to be, her two friends had come immediately to her. That was the first thought, that she had friends in this strange place she was just beginning to become part of. That others were prepared to invest their time and effort in her, she found very comforting. Okay, the King and Queen had said as much, but as Robanar had shown her that evening, her presence had significance to the realm and that partly guided their responses to her. It could be said that Jenet's response was part of her duties as a maid, but it was plain that she was going well beyond her duties. Keren could do whatever he wished, but he had chosen to spend his time looking after her.

The strange thing that had happened had occurred when he had put his arm around her shoulders. She had been aware that something in Keren had responded to the touch of her skin, and she had been aware that he had tried to conceal it afterwards, tried to manufacture a tiny degree of separation between them, and she thought she knew why. That she understood, and she knew the reasons why he had done that. What she hadn't expected was her own response to the touch of his skin.

She carefully let her memory go back to that moment so that she could replay it, examine the moment in detail as she hadn't been able to then. Then, she had crammed the whole thing down into a tiny locker and shut the door, because her response had been so strange she didn't recognize it, didn't understand it, was afraid of what it might cause her to do. She had successfully suppressed her reaction all day until now.

Slowly, like a flower opening towards the sun, she released the memory and let the feeling flow through her body again. It was not like anything she had ever experienced before, either here or in her previous life in Kansas. It was not a bad feeling, quite the opposite, something of contentment, something of security, something of relief, something that promised good things to come. Ripples of emotion bloomed through her body then, a new experience, nothing like the evenings when she had fumbled with her new body but almost as overwhelming.

How can somebody's touch do that to a person? she wondered. I never felt like that before, and it wasn't there when he pulled me to my feet either. Is this a girl thing? Is this what's going to happen when I finally find someone to be my boyfriend?

After Keren's touch, do I really care about anyone else? An agonized thought came then. He's out of my league, how am I going to be able to bear it?

As sleep came, she tried to picture herself with a boy but found it difficult. Any eligible male in Palarand would behave totally different than the guys back home in Kansas. How would they treat her? Would she be able to respond appropriately? Did she want to? She tried to envisage herself tilting her head upwards to receive a kiss from a guy, but the face that bent down to meet hers was always that of Keren.

Garia's second session in the 'gym' brings further advances but Keren begins to regret participating. On their return Terys introduces a visitor and makes a timely suggestion that might ease the chaos that seems to surround Garia wherever she goes.

Somewhere Else Entirely

by Penny Lane

19 - The Secretary

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

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"That's it! Nice and smooth, keep your lower arms relaxed as you move them."

Facing Garia in the Small Training Room was a firmly-focused Keren and an embarrassed Jenet, both moving their arms and legs to follow Garia's own movements. Garia gave her an encouraging smile.

"You're doing quite well, Jenet! Don't worry about what people might think, no-one can see you doing this now, and by the time they do find out what you're doing you won't be bothered because you'll be enjoying yourself. Now, move your right foot like this."

The lesson continued for long enough for both her students to have memorized the movements and then Garia called a stop.

"I think that's enough to start with. When we do it again tomorrow, you should be able to remember that, and then we can add in another movement, and so on. But I don't want to wear either of you out, so you can sit and have a drink while you watch me do the rest."

Freed of the necessity to repeat and explain everything she did, Garia faced them and began again, smoothly running through the exercises until she reached the end. She joined them on the bench and took the beaker of water offered by Jenet.

"How was that?" she asked them.

"It was strange," Keren replied. "They look like very simple, obvious movements but I could feel the potential in them straight away. What about you, Jenet?"

"As you say, Your Highness. I think I will have to do some more before I give an opinion, though." Jenet turned to Garia. "Thank you, Mistress, for your efforts. The exercises are... unusual to one of my station."

"Anyone should be able to do these, Jenet," Garia replied. "Young, old, men, women, fit or unfit. They should benefit almost everyone, and status has nothing at all to do with it."

"So," Keren asked her, "What next? Are you moving onto the next stage in your own exercises?"

Garia nodded. "I have to try the falls again, I think, and all the other movements I did yesterday. I need to make sure that my body hasn't forgotten all it found out since yesterday. Once I've done that," she smiled at him, "I'll be calling for volunteers."

On the mat again Garia repeated the drills she had finally perfected the previous day, tumbling, rolling and twisting, following them with fists and flat-hand attack actions. Finally satisfied she took another small drink before inviting Keren onto the mat to face her.

"So, what do you want me to do?"

She shrugged. "Just come at me as though you were attacking me. I'm not going to hurt you, at all, and I trust that you won't hurt me. This is supposed to be a teaching exercise, after all."

Keren faced her across the mat and thought how he was going to handle this. With a mental shrug he darted forward, intending to grab her around the body and lift her off her feet. Much to his surprise she stepped inside his reach, grabbed two handfuls of tunic, smartly twisted at the hips and threw him over her body. He sailed over her and landed on his back on the other side of the mat.

"Oof!"

He looked up to see a grinning Garia leaning over him.

"That's unfair," he said with a smile. "I never expected you to do that."

"You're lucky," she retorted, "that we were only practicing! Look where my foot is."

He bent his head and discovered the sole of her boot an inch from his throat.

"First lesson," she said as he climbed to his feet, "if you do something unexpected, you have a big advantage. If this was a real fight, you'd be dead. Ready for another try?"

"As you wish, Mistress," he replied, but there was a gleam in his eye as he took his stance again. She's going to grab my tunic, I can put paid to that idea.

This time, expecting his hands to grab her arms, she kept them down and side-stepped instead, grabbing his left arm as it came forward. Again she rotated and, using his forward motion, swung him over her hip again.

"Oof!"

Her grinning face came into focus again. He knew just where her boot was going to be without looking.

"Second lesson. You don't imagine that I can only use these moves against people who haven't seen them before, do you? You have no idea what any real opponent knows, so you have to change your movements to suit whatever your opponent does as the bout develops."

I'm really glad these monster hips have some practical use, she thought. I wasn't even sure that I could throw him, he's so much larger than me.

Hah, Sensei would be angry at me for that thought, since he would say that the size of an opponent was immaterial. However, Sensei isn't the one who has changed from a two-hundred-pound guy into a hundred-pound girl with an untried body. Still it's nice to find out that something worked for once.

"This seems to be working better than I expected," she told him as he got up again. "I really wasn't sure, given the differences in our sizes, whether I was wasting my time or not." She gave him an evil grin. "It seems not. Fancy another go? This time, when you go over, see if you can roll back to your feet like I did. That way you're not at the mercy of whoever's standing over you."

"What makes you think I'm going over again?" Keren grinned back at her. "There must be a way I can just overpower you eventually, and then I have you."

She shrugged. "If you think that, you obviously haven't been paying attention. Still, if you insist on learning the hard way... whenever you're ready." She took her stance.

"Oof!"

"See?" She loomed over him again. "Almost everything you can possibly try has been tried and analyzed over thousands of years. Now I'm not going to claim that every single thing you might attempt has a well-known counter, but most of the obvious moves have."

She held out her hand to help him to his feet, but he used it to pull her downwards to his level, eyes laughing at her startled expression.

"Hey! No!" She was very firm. "This is business, not pleasure. In this room we are master and student only. We've no time for funny business."

Keren relented and she straightened her back, pulling him up off the mat. Face close to hers, he muttered in a voice too low for Jenet to hear.

"Mother told me I had to treat you like a sister, but you're nothing like either of my sisters, and for that I'm extremely thankful."

As Keren stood up his eyes narrowed.

"Those bruises, I didn't cause those, did I?"

"Oh, no, these aren't from today, they are from when I was being clumsy yesterday," she replied. "Oh, except this one."

She lifted her left arm to show him the yellowing remains of an older bruise.

"I got this when I fell into the herb garden that night. Don't you remember? I was rescued by a handsome prince."

"Were you?" he said with a straight face. "I was there, I don't remember seeing anybody of that description there."

Her mention of that night triggered off a memory that caused a wash of goose bumps to run down her whole body. She remembered again being in her nightdress, wrapped against his warm body inside his cloak, safe from possible enemies. Something of her recall must have shown in her face, because he waved his finger at her.

"What was it you just said? Business, not pleasure, I like that. Now you're doing it, Garia, but this is not the time."

She bowed her head in acknowledgment and they both moved back to the start position.

"I see what you did there," he said in a normal voice. "I was off-balance, and that's why you could pull me over."

"Exactly," Garia replied. "That's the whole point behind most of the moves I'll be showing you. You use your opponent's own strength and movement to defeat him."

"Ah, but suppose I put this leg forward, like this," he advanced his right leg further than he had done previously. "That stops you making me overbalance, doesn't it? Then I can grab you."

She cocked her head. "Don't forget that by changing your stance like that you open up vulnerabilities in other areas. For instance..."

She stepped to the right, hooked her left leg round Keren's left leg and then heaved on his left arm as she threw her weight to his left side. Unbalanced, Keren ended up sitting on the mat with a surprised look. He thought about what had just happened then nodded thoughtfully as he climbed to his feet... again.

"This is interesting," he said. "Do you plan to teach me any of this? I'd love to be able to do this, given who I am it may come in useful some day."

"I plan to teach you everything I know," she told him. She frowned. "At least, all I can remember. Don't forget, I am only your age and by no means an expert, so I can't claim to teach you everything there is to know, but I recognize that. What I hope will happen is that, once we get a core of people who can all do as much as I can remember, then they'll go off and develop their own disciplines using my own knowledge as a basis. Much like I hope will happen with all the other snippets of knowledge I'm trying to scatter around."

"Do you know very much of this..." he waved his hand at the mat.

"It's called martial art, and there are many, many different disciplines which one could learn. Most of them concentrate on one particular way of achieving the final result, but there are schools which teach mixtures of methods. These are called fusions and it was a particular fusion school I was attending before I came here. I've been doing it for about six or seven years, I guess. Oh, my years, not yours.

"Some schools teach defense only, using bare hands or simple accessories to defend yourself in a tight corner. Other are more aggressive and teach attack moves, but of course when you attack you also have to know how to defend yourself as well. Still others teach the use of weapons, usually concentrating on a particular one like a sword or a stick. My fusion is mainly defensive, but we are also taught how to use any tool or weapon which comes to hand in a fight. Ready for some more?"

"Of course!"

The next move had a different outcome as they both tumbled untidily onto the mat.

"What happened?" Keren asked. "Did you do something wrong?"

"Yes and no. My body has a different balance now and I have to learn to compensate for it. I thought I'd done that but of course when I'm moving around someone else's body I have to allow for the different shape. Don't worry, it'll come with practice."

"All I'm getting practice in is falling down," Keren grumbled lightheartedly. "Mind you, falling onto your body has it's compensations."

"Keep your hands to yourself, Your Highness," she said primly. "Business, not pleasure. So, if you want to learn a move, perhaps it's time I taught you one. Then you can see how to fall properly as well."

~o~O~o~

Back in her own chamber, Jenet had started removing Garia's sash as she undressed her mistress before bathing when a knock came at the door and Kenila entered.

"Mistress," she said as she curtseyed. "Her Majesty would like you to come to her sitting room before you go down to lunch. She has a visitor she would like to introduce to you."

"Of, course, Kenila. Um, I have to bathe first, you can see the state I'm in." As the previous day, Garia's over-sized tunic was creased and stained with sweat. "Would Her Majesty be prepared to wait till I'm clean, or should I come now?"

"Oh, Mistress, you go and get in the bath. If you didn't you'd probably have to go down to lunch looking like that and that would never do. I'll tell the Queen that you're presently indisposed and will come as soon as you can."

"Thank you, Kenila."

Jenet resumed the disrobing of her mistress and Garia got herself cleaned up. Freshly attired in a summer gown she made her way to the Queen's sitting room, full of curiosity about who might be waiting.

"Ah, come in and have a seat, dear, there's someone here I'd like you to meet."

Garia curtseyed to the Queen and crossed the room to one of the free armchairs. Facing her in another armchair was a girl who she judged was a little older than herself. She was dark-haired, although not quite as dark as Garia, and her plain face was square with bottomless dark brown eyes. She was dressed according to the fashion for the time of year, but it seemed to Garia that her clothes were of a better quality than might have been appropriate for those resident in the palace. Of course, if you're not living in the palace and you've come to meet the Queen, you are going to get all dolled up. Behind the girl's chair stood a maid, which meant that the visitor had some kind of elevated status. She seemed startled by Garia's appearance for some reason. Garia turned questioningly to the Queen.

"My dear, meet Lady Merizel and her maid Bursila. Lady Merizel is the youngest daughter of Baron Kamodar of South Reach, which is a holding down south by Crescent Lake. Merizel, this is Mistress Garia, of whom we were just talking."

Garia had a sudden urge to stand and curtsey to the girl, although she couldn't have said why. Terys raised a gentle hand which stopped both girls from getting up and Garia was thankful for that. She had no experience meeting any of the nobility and she still had no idea what to do when she did.

"Garia, dear," Terys went on, "Keren mentioned to me recently that he thought you ought to have a secretary to look after your many appointments." She gave Garia an amused glance. "I thought of Merizel here as a possible candidate. You see, she's Baron Kamodar's third daughter and youngest child and she hasn't yet found either a husband or a suitable occupation. She's been staying with her brother in the city and paid a courtesy call recently, which is why I remembered her."

"Well, Ma'am," Garia began, "I know nothing of how such matters are arranged here in Palarand. Have you told her who I am and what she's likely to be doing? I'm not going to be like anyone she's ever known before, am I?"

Merizel stared at Garia. It occurred to Garia that her accent might have sounded funny. Everyone in the palace, even the people she'd met in the city, knew what she sounded like but she recognized that accents might vary throughout the country.

"Merizel?" Terys prompted. "Why don't you tell Garia what you told me."

"Of course, Your Majesty." Clearly the girl was not used to being so close to her Queen, and Garia could hear the nervousness in her voice. "I, um, had to become secretary to my father for some months recently after Varren - that's his secretary - broke his arm and couldn't write. Her Majesty," she reddened, "said you needed someone to organize your appointments and take notes because you're very busy and -" Merizel stopped and turned to the Queen.

"Ma'am," she asked Terys, "Did you say that Mistress Garia couldn't read or write?" Her tone was of disbelief.

"That's perfectly true, dear, although I also said that it was our language that she couldn't read or write. She can perfectly read and write her own tongue. You see, she's not from Alaesia, she comes from somewhere else entirely, and of course they use different letters and words there." Terys looked complacently at Garia. "I have no doubt that a smart girl like her will soon pick up our letters, but until then she needs a helper. As well as being her secretary you would be a companion to her since there are very few girls her age in the palace at the moment. Would you like to try? I won't force you two together, but it will give you a chance to do something different than whatever you must have been doing these last few years. I'll let you have a room in the palace and you can keep the position for as long as you both agree to it. Garia?"

"Um." Garia stalled for time. She did need someone, that was true, the only record she had of what she was doing at any time was what she or Jenet remembered, and with meetings happening thick and fast that was not good enough any more. Keren had suggested a secretary to her, she had forgotten about it but apparently the Queen had not. She studied the girl sitting opposite her. A Baron's daughter, which meant one of the nobility, although probably right at the bottom of the ladder. She would have certain views about how the world worked and a fixed idea about her own place in it. There were certainly a number of stuck-up girls at Gary's school in Hays, and he had found them insufferable. How would this girl take to being the servant? aide? employee? of a mere commoner, which was all Garia really was?

More importantly, perhaps, what might there be between this girl's ears? If she was an airhead she would be out of her depth before the end of the day. Garia's meeting tended to be unusual gatherings compared to those Merizel's father might have hosted, could she cope? Turned on its head, what might her presence do to the men in those meetings? Would she be a distraction? She didn't look to be a great beauty, certainly not as good-looking as Garia imagined herself to be, but what every man saw was different. Still, these people were used to servants being present in the background, weren't they? Only one way to find out...

"Ma'am, you know that things tend to be different around me. Perhaps we'd better let Merizel have a taste of what she has to do before committing ourselves to anything permanent. A few days, maybe? Would that be enough?"

Terys smiled. "Yes, my dear, I think that's the way to handle it to begin with. Merizel, we'll find you a room here, because Garia has meetings into the evenings and I don't want you wandering around Palarand in the dark, there's no sense in it. Oh, and there's another matter I must make clear to you."

Terys fixed Merizel's eye. "Garia is to be addressed as Mistress, but you should consider her your superior while you are acting as her secretary. Her status in Palarand is not determined by her birth or marriage or age and the rules are different in her own country. You should know that the King and I have adopted her, since she is still legally a child, and she is to be treated as if she were one of my own daughters. Do you wish to accept this post?"

Merizel's eyes widened and then narrowed as she tried to digest the information about Garia's status. There was something extremely peculiar going on here, and the offered post was turning out to be nothing like she first envisaged. It seemed that this strange girl was younger than her, and yet so important, how could that be? Still, she was fed up with being shunted about the country between relatives and a chance to live in the palace was not to be passed up. If nothing else it would give her bragging rights whenever she met her peers. She stood and curtseyed to Terys.

"Yes, Your Majesty. I would like to try this."

"Good, my dear. This afternoon we can find you a suitable room and I will send someone to fetch your things. I expect we'll also need to send a message off to your father, I can't think that he'll object to the arrangement. Well, it seems that it is time for us to go for lunch." Garia rose, followed by Terys. "Lead the way, Kenila."

Garia got a surprise then, because as Merizel stood it became apparent that she was quite tall and slender. Perhaps not as tall as Keren, maybe, but certainly tall enough to see over the Queen's head, and so much taller than Garia that her own head only came up to Merizel's shoulder. Of course, Garia was now used to everyone else towering over her. She had only found a couple of the kitchen boys who had been shorter. How would this affect their relationship?

Garia became thoughtful as another question raised itself in her head. She had assumed that her present height was about as good as it was going to get. However, she was still young, did this mean there was some more growing to do? It might be nice to be able to reach some of the higher shelves on her own...

On entering the dining room Terys led them over to Robanar.

"Your Majesty," she began, which rather startled Garia until she realized that the Queen was making a formal introduction, "may I present Lady Merizel, youngest daughter of Baron Kamodar of South Reach. Keren has suggested that Mistress Garia needs some help and Merizel has agreed to try the post of secretary to her."

Robanar smiled at the young woman as she gave a nervous curtsey in front of him.

"Lady Merizel," he said. "Rise, please. We are not so formal unless we are holding court. Are you to live in the palace?"

"Your Majesty," Merizel said, "If it please you, Her Majesty has said she will give me a room."

The King's smile broadened. "It pleases me indeed, Lady Merizel. My daughters are both grown and fled my kingdom, it is about time we had another young face about the palace. Mistress Garia has no friend her own age here, I hope you two will become friends in time. Of course I know your father, I have no doubt he will be pleased if you come and reside with us in the palace."

"Thank you, Your Majesty," Merizel responded. "No doubt he will."

"I'll get off a message to him after lunch, dear," Terys added. "I can't see there would be any problem. Merizel, dear, will you sit beside me at table?"

Garia took her usual place next to Keren and facing Bleskin, so she couldn't see Merizel while the meal took place, but the conversation carried well.

"Ma'am, whatever is this?"

"We call it a fork, my dear. It was one of the first things that Mistress Garia showed us after she arrived. You hold it in your left hand like so, and you hold your knife in your right hand, and you use it like this."

"That seems strange. Oh, I am expected to put it in my mouth? Is that dangerous, Ma'am?"

"Not unless you really intend to do yourself injury, my dear. It's no more dangerous than anything else you might put in your mouth."

Bleskin smiled at Garia. "It seems your new table tool is about to have another convert."

"I hope so, Captain. She's to become my secretary, or perhaps what they call in my country my personal assistant. I hope she will be able to manage, it could be an interesting ride."

The captain gave her a grin. "I can't disagree there, Mistress! Tell me, have your investigations in the training room met with any success? You were quite worried when we first spoke about the matter."

"They have, Captain, and thank you for the loan of the room. In fact, since my efforts have been successful, I want to continue, and we need to talk about the future. Perhaps before I start tomorrow morning, if that would be convenient?"

"It will, Mistress, and I look forward to it."

When everyone rose from table Merizel and her maid gravitated towards Garia, who was standing by Keren.

"Your Highness, this is Lady Merizel, who is going to try becoming my secretary. Lady Merizel, Prince Keren."

She curtseyed and then he bent over to kiss the back of her hand.

"Lady Merizel. Welcome to the palace."

"Thank you, Your Highness."

A flare of something hit Garia's stomach, unexpected feelings. She fought to keep her expression one of plain interest in the proceedings but wasn't sure she succeeded. Oh, no! I'd forgotten Keren! Is she going to suck up to him? What about our relationship? We'd just got it ticking over nicely, I'd hate for her to break it up.

This was bound to happen if I had a female secretary. Perhaps I should send her away and ask for a man, preferably an older man who wouldn't be too interested in me.

No, don't be silly, she's only been in the palace five minutes, what are you getting upset about?

What am I getting upset about?

Keren was saying something to Merizel, and then the two stood apart and turned towards Garia.

Oh, God, I'm jealous! This is totally ridiculous! Keren and I haven't a relationship, we aren't dating, so why stress over another girl meeting him? Stop it right now, you idiot.

She forced a smile on her face and spoke to Merizel.

"Prince Keren has been looking after me since I've been in the palace. He knows his way about and he's interested in a lot of the subjects I've been telling people about. If you become my secretary you'll be seeing a lot of him."

Gerdas appeared at Garia's elbow.

"Your Highness, Milady, Mistress Garia, I hope I'm not interrupting anything important."

"Master Gerdas, of course not. This is Lady Merizel, who is coming to the palace to assist me. What can we do for you?"

"My Lady," Gerdas bowed towards her, then turned back to Garia.

"I've just come to say farewell, actually," he explained. "I'm about to return to my own mansion. We're all packed and the carriages are waiting, so I just wanted to see you before I left. You know, both Prince Keren and yourself have an open invitation to visit me at home any time, especially if you wish to observe the stars one night. The air is much clearer where I live and with the new telescopes I can only anticipate what wonders we'll be able to see for the first time."

"Master Gerdas, thank you for your invitation," Garia replied. "I hope to take you up on it, but you know how busy I'm about to be." She smiled at him. "You'll have to send me reminders to shame me into coming."

He grinned back at her. "I'll do that, Mistress. Oh, and I think you'll be expected to come to the Questors' conclave, which will probably be just after the rainy season starts, given the timing."

"Oh? Yes, I'll come to that, Master Gerdas. It'll be rather important, won't it?"

"Possibly the most important one since the Questors were founded," he said. "Well, farewell to you all, I must go. Highness, Milady, Mistress."

Gerdas gave an elaborate bow, turned, and walked out of the room as Terys joined the group.

"Garia, could you take Merizel to Terevor, to get her a room allocated? That way the room can be cleaned and prepared while we're having our nap. Do you nap, Merizel?"

"Ma'am, in this weather I do." She looked confused. "But, where will I nap today, Ma'am?"

"I have some spare chairs," Garia said. "She can come with me after we've been to Terevor."

Terys nodded. "Then I'll see you all on the balcony in a short while."

Jenet led the way to Terevor's office. Garia remembered being taken there when she had first arrived, but because her memory had just been restored and everything had happened in a rush she remembered very little of it. The old man behind the desk had no difficulty determining how Merizel fitted into the scheme of things, though.

"Milady, I will give you the Cerise Chamber," he told Merizel. "The rooms on that corridor are designed for single persons of your rank but your maid will sleep in the common servants' dormitory at the end of the corridor. Will that be acceptable?"

"As you wish, Master," she replied. This was the palace, after all. Merizel had no idea how it functioned, it was nothing like her father's fortified house.

"Jenet, will you take Lady Merizel to the Cerise Chamber, please? You can show her and her maid the rooms and you can inform the corridor staff of whatever needs doing. With your permission, of course, Mistress Garia."

"Of course, Terevor. I understand from the Queen that Lady Merizel's baggage will arrive later on this afternoon. She has been staying with her brother in the city."

"I'll make sure it gets to her chamber, Mistress."

Jenet led them through the palace to the same corridor that Garia had first lived in.

"Isn't this palace enormous!" Merizel said when they reached the room. "However am I going to find my way about?"

"A good point," Garia replied. "Of course, I had Jenet assigned when I arrived here, and she's lived here all her life so she knows her way around."

"Didn't you have a maid with you when you came?"

Garia could see her own standing going down in Merizel's estimation. If a woman didn't even have her own maid, then she was just one of the common people, surely?

"It's not quite that simple," she said with a wry smile. "My story is extremely complicated and will involve you in accepting some quite strange ideas. There will be plenty of time later for me to explain how I got here."

Merizel gave her a sharp look, then turned her attention to the room, which was in all respects except color exactly the same as the room Garia had been given.

"It's adequate," she pronounced. She walked to the window and looked out.

"The herb garden," Garia told her. "It smells quite nice at night." Jenet struggled to hold a straight face.

"Hmph." Merizel opened the door to the clothes closet and peered in. "Hmph," she said again. "I suppose I can just squeeze all my clothes in here."

"There are closets at the end of the corridor for storing out-of-season clothes, Milady," Jenet said. "Your own maid should be able to swap the selections as the weather changes."

"Very well."

Merizel didn't sound pleased at the arrangement. Garia knew that these rooms were intended for people who stayed a few weeks or months, not for the better part of a year or longer. They wouldn't be expected to bring their entire wardrobe with them. Doubtless if this arrangement worked Terevor would find somewhere more permanent for Merizel to keep her belongings.

Merizel turned to Garia. "Which is your chamber, Mistress?"

"I originally had the Lilac Room, it's next door actually, although I don't live there any more. Shall we go? You can have a look on the way."

Garia led them to the door of the next chamber. The splintered wood of the door frame had been repaired, but the new wood had not yet been painted. She pointed to it.

"This was why I had to move," she explained. "Some men tried to get in one night and kidnap me. They forced open the door but by then I'd already jumped out of the window."

Sheer disbelief was written plain on Merizel's face but she kept her mouth shut. This whole day was just getting stranger and stranger, and she had considered bolting screaming out of the palace, only she had no idea how to get out. She felt very confused and what this younger woman was telling her made no sense at all. Girls jumping out of windows at night? So unlikely it was not worth considering. Forks? And why did she have that very odd hair-style?

"Mistress," Jenet said, "If you could make your way back without me? I have to speak to the corridor staff about Lady Merizel's chamber, I'll catch you up later if I may."

Garia thought. She had a grasp of the central part of the palace now, the routes she had most frequently followed and she thought she could get back to the household area.

"That's a good idea, Jenet, I'm beginning to feel like I need my nap quite soon now. Merizel, if you'd like to follow me?"

While Jenet went one way Garia led Merizel and Bursila the other direction through the corridors. The route she took was probably longer than necessary but it had the virtue that she wouldn't get lost doing it that way. Finally she arrived at the door to her own suite.

"But..." Merizel objected. "You've led us all the way back to the Royal quarters. You surely can't live here, Mistress?"

"Ah, but I do," Garia replied, throwing open the door to her suite. She gestured with her hand. "Welcome to my suite. We'll go straight through and out to the balcony. There should be enough sun-loungers out there for all of us."

Merizel's eyes grew round as she entered Garia's sitting room, taking in the opulent decoration and fittings.

"But, surely..."

"The Queen told you, I've been adopted by them. After the kidnap attempt it was thought unsafe to leave me in that part of the palace so I was moved here. This used to be Princess Elizet's suite but she moved away when she married so she no longer needs it." She ushered her guests out onto the balcony. "Here we are, I usually take this one and Jenet takes the one behind, those are free, take any one you wish. Don't go too far that way, the ones further up are used by the King and Queen."

Garia, already beginning to feel drowsy in the heat, clambered onto her lounger and made herself comfortable. Realizing that Merizel was still standing staring at her with her mouth open, she added, "Merizel, there's a great deal to tell you but there's no point starting now while we both need a nap. Please find yourself somewhere to lie down."

"As you wish, Mistress."

A thoroughly puzzled Merizel lay down facing Garia, wondering just what she had gotten herself into.

~o~O~o~

When Garia awoke it was to find herself facing a staring Merizel, sitting bolt upright on her lounger looking intently at Garia.

"Did you rest at all, Merizel?" Garia offered a smile to try and reassure her.

Merizel shook her head slowly. "Not really, Mistress Garia. I'm finding the whole day most confusing, and I keep thinking about all the strange things that I've seen or been told today."

"Just Garia, please. If we are going to be together, we don't have to be so formal. I'm not even formal with the Prince, you know, when there's just him and me."

Merizel's eyes widened. "You spend time alone together? Are you..."

Garia realized her error and tried to minimize the importance by flicking a hand. "Oh, no! Nothing like that! I'm not the right kind of noble birth, so I couldn't anyway, but there's always Jenet there with me." To the girl's frown she added, "My maid. She comes absolutely everywhere with me, and so far that's included some quite unusual places."

Merizel dismissed the mention of a maid as unimportant. "But, you spend your days with Prince Keren, then? I still envy you, uh, Garia."

"It has it's good moments, yes, but we're busy a lot of the time." Garia smiled. "If you become my secretary, you'll have to come around with me as well, so you'll get to spend as much time with Keren as I do."

Merizel's eyes widened again at Garia's deliberate omission of Keren's title.

"You see," she said, "that's exactly what I mean. There's so much happening that ought not to be happening, if I can say such a thing. Father taught all of us to be correct with our forms of address, to know what rank everyone we spoke to was and to offer people their correct titles. To do otherwise would be insulting, if not dangerous in some cases."

"It's difficult for me," Garia acknowledged. "In my country, there are no ranks like those you have here, so I don't know how to address almost anyone. I'm having to try really hard, but most people know I don't know these things so they make allowances." She smiled. "It's probably just as well there's only one King to a country, I'd be in real trouble by now otherwise."

"And why would someone want to kidnap you? And from the middle of the palace, of all places! Is nowhere safe in Palarand?"

"Ah, that's part of my story, which you will need to know in full if you are to understand what's going on here. You will hear it, and soon, take my word for it." She smiled again. "Don't worry about the possibility of being kidnapped, they're not interested in you, just me."

"And then there's your hair! Do all those where you come from wear your hair like that? It seems very odd to me, but then it does suit the shape of your face."

"Women where I come from wear their hair at all lengths from as long as yours to extremely short. The fashions change from time to time but some don't follow fashion, or follow older ways of doing their hair." Garia shrugged. "It makes for an interesting life, but it's really no different than what happens here." She got to her feet. "Come on, we'll go along to the Queen's sitting room. After our nap - which the Queen insists I take, by the way - there's always a pot of hot pel waiting."

"Oh. If you say so, uh, Garia. The Queen doesn't mind? I mean, you sharing her pel?"

"No, I don't think so. After all, they have adopted me, so they're treating me like I was a sort of daughter. Both the King and Queen have been very friendly with me, and I'm grateful for that, because I come from somewhere a very long way away and all this," she swept her hand across the courtyard and the roofs facing them to indicate her surroundings, "is completely new to me. I came here with just the clothes I was wearing, and I knew nothing and nobody, and they took me in."

"Just like that? Surely they don't take in just anyone who is lost in Palarand?"

"No, one reason is because the society I come from is very different to this one. We do things differently there, and those differences are important. The King is protecting me from those who want to steal my knowledge."

Merizel's eyes went round again.

"Really? So you're the one! The rumors in the city were right, then!" Merizel hopped to her feet and eyed Garia critically. "I expected someone, you know..."

"Taller? Older?" Garia gave a wry smile. "Don't let my appearance fool you, Merizel, I am not like any other girl you are ever likely to meet. Don't let that put you off, though. I'm going to need your advice on how to be a girl in Palarand, and I am more likely to get the right advice from someone near my own age, aren't I? I do hope we can become friends. Oh, and I'd forget most of those rumors. From what little I've heard so far they're nothing at all like the truth." She gestured with a hand. "This way, we can go in by the balcony door."

Merizel looked at Garia's arm. "You're bruised! How..? Was that when they tried to kidnap you?"

"Some, yes. But most of the bruises are of my own making, unfortunately. It's all right, nobody's tried to beat me up or anything, you'll find out," Garia grinned as she thought through what might happen at her next visit to the Small Training Room, "tomorrow morning if we haven't scared you off completely."

"Garia, Merizel, please come in and find yourself seats," Terys said as they entered.

The two girls curtseyed and made themselves comfortable. Varna came forward and busied herself preparing cups for them and then retreated back to the wall where she had been waiting. Jenet and Bursila joined her.

"You had a restful nap?" Terys inquired. "Merizel, you look confused. Are you all right? It must be a shock to you, coming to the palace after living out in the country."

"It has been a surprise, Ma'am," Merizel answered. "There's much that I don't understand but I'm sure I'll pick it up quickly. Although it was a lot quieter in Daddy's castle, I have been living with my brother Terzil in the city for some weeks so I'm not quite a country maid. Then there's Mistress Garia, she's very strange - begging your pardon, Mistress - and it's all very mysterious. I hope I can be of service, Ma'am."

"I'm sure you'll do just fine, dear. Terevor has found you a room?"

Merizel looked at Garia, who replied, "Yes, Ma'am, she has been given the Cerise Chamber. The corridor staff are making it ready for her."

Terys nodded. "Good. Now, drink up, my dears."

Despite Terys's motherly nature Merizel still seemed to be in awe of her. Garia knew that in time she would relax and lose some of the stiffness a stranger in an unusual setting naturally has until things become familiar. The three of them talked for a while about Merizel's father, and Garia learned a little about life in the rural parts of Palarand. It seemed, apart from the obvious lack of mechanization, to be much the same as life in backwoods America. It seemed that the Baron, despite having a title, was little more than the prosperous owner of several farms and villages.

A footman interrupted their casual conversation.

"Ma'am," the man bowed low. "Master Parrel has arrived at the palace. He says that he is here to meet with Mistress Garia and with Master Pitchell."

"Yes, that's right," Garia said, remembering. "I did say I'd meet with both of them last night, didn't I?" She put her cup down. "With your permission, Ma'am?"

Terys nodded assent. "Of course, my dear. Are you taking Merizel with you?"

"I think so, Ma'am. If she's to get to grips with what I do here, she might as well start right away."

Merizel put her cup down, looking cautious. "What is it you are going to do now, Mistress?"

"Oh, nothing to get worried about, Merizel. We'll go with this footman, he'll take us to a room at the front of the palace," she raised her eyebrows at the footman and he nodded back at her, "and we'll have a sit-down meeting with Master Metalsmith Parrel and Master Scribe Pitchell. You can just sit and watch, I shan't expect you to take notes or anything like that till we get you organized."

Merizel stood up. "In that case, Mistress, I'm ready." She turned to the Queen. "With your permission Ma'am?"

Whatever Terys was about to say was cut short by another knock at the door. A second footman entered. He cast a glance at his fellow and bowed to the Queen.

"Ma'am. I have come to convey Mistress Margra's request for Mistress Garia's presence. It seems they agreed a meeting yesterday evening."

Garia winced. Double booked! I really do need a secretary.

"Merizel," she said. "This is just the reason I need someone like you. I seem to be invited to two simultaneous meetings. Ma'am?" She looked to Terys as an arbiter.

Terys gave her a smile in return. "I can't make this decision for you, dear. You'll have to decide which of these is most important. I don't know what you intended to tell either of them when you arranged these meetings last night."

Garia pursed her lips in thought. "Um, I'm assuming that Mistress Margra lives in the palace?"

"She does, dear."

"In that case, I can see her later without too much trouble, but Master Parrel will have to return to his workshop in the city, won't he? Can one of these fellows tell Mistress Margra that I've been otherwise detained and I'll catch up with her later this afternoon? Offer her my apologies for the delay."

"Bresco?" The footman came to attention. "You understood?"

"Aye, Ma'am."

"Then you can go. Mistress Garia and Lady Merizel will accompany Sevoren to meet Master Parrel and Master Pitchell."

"As you command, Ma'am."

The afternoon meeting sees the introduction of printing with moveable type - in two different ways. Merizel struggles to keep up with the unusual girl the Queen introduced her to. Later, some news of a distant event is received and Garia finally learns some local geography.

Somewhere Else Entirely

by Penny Lane

20 - Of Type and Typing

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

---

Garia introduced Merizel to Parrel, Tarvan and Pitchell in the small room assigned to them at the front of the palace. Garia was pleased to see the blackboard she had asked for, although Merizel frowned as she saw it. They all took seats and made themselves comfortable, Pitchell with a pile of parchment sheets in front of him in order to take notes, Parrel with a battered wooden box like a seedling tray in front of him.

"Before we begin, Mistress," Pitchell said, "I have with me the first draft of the numbers sheet we talked about at the last meeting. If you would like to check it and see if there are any obvious mistakes, I would be grateful."

Garia took the offered sheet and read through it. It was a curious document because she could only understand half of it, the half which comprised the set of Arabic numerals and examples of their usage in notation and simple arithmetic. The other half, the notes which would help others understand the numbers, was just a mass of squiggles.

She shrugged. "As far as I can see, Master Pitchell, it all looks as I would expect. The drawing of each number is very clear, your writing is very good."

Merizel's eyes narrowed. "Mistress, I was led to understand that you couldn't read?"

"I can't," Garia told her. "But read this yourself and you'll understand what's going on."

She passed the sheet to Merizel and turned back to Pitchell. Merizel took the sheet and started reading, the concentration plain on her face.

"Master Pitchell, it seems that Lady Merizel will also need a copy of this sheet."

Pitchell surprised Garia by grinning at her. "As you say, Mistress. It seems Lady Merizel will learn something new today. I have twelve scribes who will be copying this out, but even though it is but a single sheet production will be very slow because I am wary of allowing errors to creep into the process."

"That's why we're here today, Masters. There is a way to speed up the production of identical sheets like this, in my world we call that whole process printing. It will need both of you to make it work, and today I will try and describe it for you." She paused. "I'm not sure if the King will allow you to experiment just yet, Master Parrel, but there is a certain amount of design you can do before the next full council meeting."

"As you say, Mistress," Parrel replied. He in turn frowned. "I've been thinking about this business since you first mentioned it, Mistress, but I'm not sure I understand how you intend this to work. I can readily see that if I dip one of my stamps in ink and press it to a sheet of parchment I can produce a letter or a symbol, that is after all how Master Pitchell adds a diagram or an engraving to any of his documents, but that is but one letter and there will be many on a written page. I know that you may have a different way of doing it, but I can't work out how. Do you intend us to strike each stamp with a hammer, as I would do against a sheet of metal?"

Garia blinked. That never occurred to me, she thought. Yeah, it could be done that way, and that will give us a completely different device. Okay, then, let's do that one first.

"Actually," she said slowly, "it can be done almost that way, and this is as good a time as any to explain exactly how. This is a digression from what I came here to tell you, but I think it will be worth while." She smiled at them as she stood and walked to the blackboard. "The device I will tell you about first is called a typewriter."

In the workroom behind the bookshop there had been an ancient typewriter, long superseded by the inevitable computer systems, but it still had occasional uses such as labeling. Young Gary had played with the thing in idle moments during his childhood, when they lived over the shop, and learned how it worked. Garia now used these memories to draw the machine on the blackboard and attempt to explain its operation. The concepts of a platen which the paper was wrapped round, automatically advancing as every letter was struck, the ink-soaked ribbon which advanced from reel to reel, the idea of "upper case" and "lower case", the use of the word "key" to describe the pad one pressed to obtain a letter, all were accepted by his listeners.

"This sounds like an amazing machine, Mistress," Pitchell said when she had finished, "but I am unclear as to the purpose of it. This will only produce a single sheet at a time, won't it? Or have I misunderstood something?"

"No, you're quite correct, Master Pitchell," she said. "The advantages over hand-writing are clarity and speed. Clarity because the letter struck every time a key is pressed will be exactly the same quality as the last one. The letters we use are reduced down to essentials to ensure everyone can understand the message. Typewritten text is much easier to read than hand-written text. Speed, because almost anyone can operate a typewriter much, much faster than you could ever write the same thing using your pen and ink."

"I see that might be possible, Mistress. But, even faster than Quick Script?"

"I can't answer that, Master Pitchell. But, how many people can read Quick Script? You're writing it so fast, I bet only you can read your own writing."

Pitchell bowed his head in recognition of the point. "As you say, Mistress. Quick Script is designed as an aid for the writer only, who will doubtless remember enough of what he heard to make up for any gaps when he properly writes the text down. So, this machine wouldn't replace Quick Script, then?"

"No, not at all. In fact, in use it can be very noisy. In fact -"

Garia went on to describe a typical twentieth-century secretary and shorthand typist and how there were often rooms full of typists copying documents. Then she mentioned that these were almost exclusively women and jaws dropped all round the room.

"Of course, men could also type," she clarified, "but it was usually the women who were faster. Men who could type did other kinds of work and the typing was merely a means to an end, a way of setting down their thoughts on paper."

"Do you mean that I might become a... what did you call them?" Merizel asked.

"Typist? No, Merizel, I don't think you'd make a great typist here in Palarand. Still, you never know."

"Mistress, I am intrigued by this machine," Parrel said. "I think I would like to attempt to make one."

"You might be better off finding someone else to handle the project," Garia said with a smile. "I guess it would probably take three men three months to put a prototype together, and that's assuming we get the design right first time. There are other things I would like you to concentrate on rather than this machine, if you would. Like what I asked you here today for."

"As you wish, Mistress. I will find someone within the Guild to handle the project. If I may ask you to describe the machine again some time?" Garia nodded assent. Parrel sat up straight. "And now, Mistress, your other project?"

"Of course. Now I see you have brought your stamps with you in that box?"

"Here, Mistress." Parrel pushed the box across the table towards her. Each of the pockets in the box held about a dozen stamps, each about two inches long. There might have been sixty or seventy pockets altogether. She pulled one out to examine it. Made from iron, the end had been carefully carved and filed and then the whole thing tempered to harden the ends against hammering. She lifted out a handful and held them in a line between thumb and forefinger, symbols uppermost.

"Suppose I hold them like this. I could arrange a whole word, couldn't I? If I had a special stamp made shorter than these, I could have several words with spaces between, couldn't I?" Her intent audience nodded. "If we had a special wooden holder made, we could have enough stamps to make up a whole line on a page, couldn't we?"

"Aye, Mistress, but they would fall out of the holder when you turned it over, wouldn't they?"

"Ah, but I've no intention of turning it over," she replied. "Suppose I stand them on a surface so that all the letters are exactly the same height, then ink them. I'd have to use an different kind of ink, one similar to that I mentioned for the typewriter ribbon. Fairly thick and probably oil-based. Then, I carefully lay my sheet of... paper or parchment, it makes no difference, on top and use a press to make sure that the paper contacts the letters all over. When I peel the paper off, I'd have a whole row of letters." As she spoke, she pantomimed the actions.

"Aye, I can see that," Parrel said. "But, we'd need a lot of letters, wouldn't we? To cover all the possible words we might want to create?"

Garia smiled. "It gets much worse, Master Parrel, since I want to do a whole page at a time, not just a single line. There are ways of making that many letters cheaply, since you won't be hammering them. For instance, you can use your existing stamps to make a mold, in clay for example, and then cast many letters using, say, zinc or even copper. I wouldn't use lead because that might wear down too quickly, but you can make the tops out of a harder metal and then make the columns out of lead. Remember, they all have to be exactly the same length, so you'll need to be able to accurately adjust the lengths of each letter."

"But, Mistress," Parrel said slowly, his mind racing as he considered the possibilities, "if you used lead, the stems would bend, surely?"

"No, because you would have a whole page of letters and spacing elements jammed together face-up in a box just like this," she tapped the stamp box. "There's no chance anything will be able to bend."

"It still seems a fiddle just to print off something," Pitchell objected. "You carefully lay out your page - in reverse, of course - and then ink it, put the parchment on top and press it. I understand that part of it, and I can see how you can improve the quality of the result. But, unless your document is only one sheet you'd have to take all the letters out and lay out page two, and so on. In that time I could have easily written out each sheet by hand."

"So you would, Master Pitchell, if you only needed a small number of copies. But, consider, suppose you needed one, or two, or three hundred copies of a document? The laws of Palarand, for example? Or the current tax rates? Royal decrees? Popular stories? That's where printing will make all the difference."

"But you still have to take each page apart to do the next, Mistress."

"No, you're looking at this the wrong way round. What you do is print off a hundred copies of page one first, then reset all the letters for the next page. Then you print all page two, then all page three, and so on, as many as you need. In fact, if you're folding them to make a book, you can print the first and last pages together, then the second and second-to-last pages, and so on. Of course, there's no reason why you couldn't have more than one tray, with the letters for page two being set up while you're printing off a hundred copies of page one. You just need to cast more letters. See?"

They did see. Parrel and Pitchell stood together at the blackboard and considered what this new device would look like and how the system would function. Garia contributed by giving the various parts the names she knew, like "Press", "Typeface", "Leading", "Point" and so on. Eventually they returned to the table, Pitchell to make a hurried summary of the afternoon's discussion, Parrel to praise Garia.

"A simple idea, Mistress," he said. "But of course someone first has to have the idea. This will require the services of carpenters, iron-workers, coppersmiths, scribes and many others in order to get the first one made, and I fully understand now what you said the other night, that we couldn't hide this knowledge away inside each Guild. I now understand also the production of paper, how it fits into this way of working. All Anmar will be indebted to you, Mistress."

"I do my best to help, Master Parrel," she told him modestly.

"But, Mistress Garia," Merizel said, with a puzzled look on her face, "I don't understand. What good is it to be able to make so many books? Who will read them all?"

"Where I come from," Garia told her gently, "every single person can read and write. We all have books, many of them."

Merizel's eyes opened wide. "Even peasants and laborers? What on Anmar for?"

"We all learn to read at a young age," Garia told her. "I could read perfectly well by the age of um, five of your years. My world is full of words, it's not just books, it's -"

Suddenly, Garia realized that Merizel would be unable to comprehend newspapers, television, computers, advertising hoardings and all the other places which had text liberally sprinkled over them. How could she be convinced?

"It's everywhere," she resumed. "By making words available to everyone it means that knowledge can be spread more easily." Ah! I have an idea. "If this world becomes as literate as my own then you wouldn't have heard quite so many silly rumors about me in the city because the knowledge of my arrival would have been properly reported." Except, of course, my world is awash with rumors as well, just different ones, but I'm not going to go there.

Merizel just looked confused. "As you say, Mistress. But, tell me, you said, 'this world', and 'my world' as though they were different! How can this be? Everyone knows there is only Anmar."

Parrel, Tarvan and Pitchell all smiled but Garia decided that the time was not right to tell Merizel such things which she probably would reject at first.

"We need to have a talk later, Merizel," she said instead. "Just trust me on this, will you? I don't want to waste any of the masters' valuable time right now."

"As you wish, Mistress."

"So, Master Parrel, Master Pitchell, have you enough to be going on with for a while?"

"Yes indeed, Mistress!" Parrel said. "If I understand this printing process correctly, it will make a great difference to all of us in the future."

Garia smiled. "Good. That's why I'm giving it to you early, since it means that you'll be able to distribute information about all the other things I'll be telling you about to all the other people who'll need to know. But, don't get the idea that this is the biggest thing that I'll tell you about. There are a number of other even bigger ideas to come, all of which are crucial for our future. I'll begin to describe two of them at the next full meeting of the Council."

"By now we have learned to expect nothing less from you, Mistress," he replied. He started gathering his notes and diagrams together ready to leave. "If that will be all, Mistress?"

"Maybe, maybe not, Master Parrel," she said. He stopped what he was doing and looked at her enquiringly.

"I know you make copper piping," she continued, "because I see it in the bathrooms and toilets around the palace. How small can you make the pipes? Say, as small as my little finger, perhaps?" She held up her pinkie for him to see.

"Aye, Mistress, I suppose so," Parrel replied. "There is little call for piping so small, but I see no reason why we should not be able to produce such pipes. I deduce from your question that there is, in fact such a use?"

Garia shrugged. "Several, in fact. But today I have one such idea in mind. Do you know how to distill things? Water, alcohol?" The words were translated so she knew that the concepts were familiar to at least somebody in the Valley.

"Why, yes, Mistress, but... water? We could, I suppose, but what would you use it for? And there is distillation of spirits from beer or wine but that is carefully controlled by the Crown because of the danger it can cause to drinkers." He shook his head. "I don't think we use pipes, even small pipes, for that though, but large copper vessels."

"If you can make spirits then my next meeting just got easier, and I'd like to ask you to join me, Master. I'm going to meet Mistress Healer Margra. I'll explain everything there if that is acceptable to you."

"Anything you care to tell us, Mistress, is acceptable to me," he replied.

Garia walked over and pulled the bell-rope set in the corner of the room next to the door. After a short while a footman appeared and she held a discussion with him about the best place to hold her next meeting, deciding eventually to ask Margra to join her where she was. The footman left to fetch Margra and Garia returned to her seat. Nobody was leaving, Pitchell deciding to stay and record the next meeting.

"Mistress Garia," Merizel said doubtfully while they waited. "This document that Master Pitchell has let me read, I have trouble understanding."

Garia encouraged her to continue.

"These strange symbols, they are the numbers that are used where you come from?" Garia nodded. "But, what do these arrangements mean?" She pointed to the example calculations on the sheet. "I gather that they are a means of using the numbers, but what for?"

A brief talk with Pitchell uncovered the fact that Merizel, although she could read, had never been given any proper tuition in arithmetic and could just about do simple sums in her head. The fact that Arabic numerals could help perform calculations much faster than the letter-based system used in the Valley went completely over her head.

"Lady Merizel," Pitchell said when he realized the truth, "I shall arrange for someone to attend you and help you to learn this new method, if that would be acceptable?"

Merizel glanced at Garia and the two metalsmiths and it dawned upon her that despite the fact that she was a Baron's daughter, she was far less educated than any of the others around the table. Trying to keep any expression of resentment or shame from her face, she smiled and told the scribe, "Yes, Master Scribe, that would be acceptable."

Garia waited, and Merizel turned to her quickly. "Oh! If that will be acceptable to you, Mistress?"

"I'm sure we can work out something, Merizel," she replied. "After all, if you can't understand the new numbering system it will make your job that much harder."

"As you say, Mistress."

After some time Margra appeared accompanied by two of her assistant healers. Immediately afterwards a servant appeared with a tray of mugs and a large pot of pel. Once everyone had been introduced and refreshed, Garia began.

"I thought it would be better for us to meet separately," she explained, "since much of what I can tell you isn't going to be of interest to some of the others on the committee."

Eyes moved in Parrel's direction, and she continued, "I've asked Master Parrel to remain, since I guess he will need to make some of the equipment I'm going to tell you about. So, let's carry on where we left off."

Again she went over cleanliness and antiseptic procedures, both during healing and in day-to-day life, stressing that it was better to stop somebody getting sick in the first place than having to spend time and effort making them well again afterwards. Simple matters like properly washing hands before eating, drinking or cooking could prevent a lot of common problems.

"To keep the places you treat people clean, you can use boiling water," she added. "Of course, that's not always practical, so alcohol is something else you can use. You can wipe down surfaces with it, and even clean wounds with it. It will sting, sure, but it will make certain that the wound is clean."

"But, Mistress, alcohol can be dangerous! Is it safe to let it get into the body that way?"

"Not enough will get in to cause much problem, I don't think." Garia frowned. "I gather you have problems with alcohol?"

"Aye, Mistress," Margra told her. "Depending how it is made, it can cause blindness or even death. We're not sure how or why, which is why production is discouraged. No-one drinking it can know if it is going to poison them or not. Despite that, it is still produced in remote areas by farmers who drink it themselves."

Garia nodded. "Yes. There is more than one kind of alcohol, and one of those kinds is indeed poisonous. For treating wounds, I don't think it really matters but you're right, drinking the wrong kind can be deadly. Fortunately, the difference is because of what you use to make it. Stick to using plants that you can eat and you won't go far wrong. Grains, vegetables, fruit, you can make alcohol out of almost anything. Now, Master Parrel."

Garia stood by the blackboard and started drawing.

"Since we'll need alcohol in greater quantities, this is how I'd make it." She drew a still, with a condenser made out of a copper coil enclosed in a water-cooled jacket.

"Copper's a good material for this because, as well as being easy to work, it conducts heat very well, meaning that the condenser will be more efficient."

"Will we need so much just for cleaning wounds?" Margra asked.

"No, but you might find your use going up as time goes on. Alcohol can also be used for cleaning your tools and even bandages. It can also be used for dissolving some of your medicines in, to make them easier for the patient to take."

"I see. But we don't use many tools, Mistress."

"Perhaps not, right now, but as time goes on you'll find you will be able to do more for your patients."

Garia started explaining about surgery, which started off a whole discussion about human anatomy and what things might be possible and what couldn't be done. It seemed surgery in Alaesia was limited to amputation and cleaning up after accidents and not a great deal more.

"You're going to have to get some bodies to examine," she told them. The looks on their faces showed her that such an idea would break local customs. "It was the same with us, to start with. Now, there's no reason why you can't give the person concerned a decent funeral afterwards, it would just mean that their body wouldn't be intact when you did it. Doesn't that happen sometimes anyway?"

"Why, yes, Mistress," Margra conceded. "But we couldn't just go and take any body and start cutting it open."

"No, I agree that wouldn't be right. But, there's no reason you couldn't get the consent of the person concerned before they died."

Margra looked confused. "But, how would we know they would die? In most cases death is sudden, we wouldn't be able to ask somebody beforehand, Mistress."

"There are two kinds of people you could ask, Mistress Margra. Those are people with fatal diseases who you know are going to die shortly and criminals convicted to die. In the circumstances, I think some of those would agree to their bodies being examined. Otherwise, you might ask people to sign a declaration offering their bodies for study if and when they died. That happens where I come from."

The three women talked amongst themselves and eventually Margra said, "Very well, Mistress. I understand your arguments, and I do think we need to have a better understanding of what goes on inside our bodies. I will talk with various interested parties and see what might be arranged."

"Of course," Garia added, "I can tell you a certain amount about what happens inside, but really you need to see it all for yourself. One day in the future you're going to be opening people up to fix something and you'll need to understand what you're dealing with."

"As you say, Mistress."

"And before that day comes, Master Parrel or one of his guild is going to have to provide you with tools for the job."

She described basic surgical tools, all that she could remember from TV shows. These were scalpels, many varieties of forceps, cutting tools like saws, shears and scissors and finally needles for sewing people up again. She noticed that Pitchell, while he was manfully talking down notes of all she said, was looking rather green around the edges.

"I'm sorry, Master Pitchell," she said, giving him an encouraging smile, "you could let one of your deputies take notes if the subject causes you distress."

"Thank you, Mistress, I'll manage," he replied, but it was obvious that he was uncomfortable.

"Mistress," Margra said, "I fear we must stop here, it will soon be time for the evening meal. You have given us sufficient to be going on with in any case."

"As you wish, Mistress Margra. We'll see you at the next full meeting, I trust?"

Margra smiled back. "I can't say I understand half of what you tell us, Mistress, but the other half would ensure I attend."

The meeting broke up and Garia, Merizel and their maids made their way back to the Cerise Chamber. Inside they found two servants unpacking chests containing Merizel's clothing.

"Good, it's all arrived!" Merizel turned to Garia. "Mistress, how should I dress for dinner? I do not think I have sufficient gowns of such a quality to wear every night before the King."

"It shouldn't be a problem, Merizel. Normally, unless it's a state occasion, the King's dinners are not very formal. So long as you wear a full-length gown, I don't think anyone will object. Of course," she added, "the weather is very hot at the moment so allowances are made. Just find something light, you should be all right."

Hark at me! Here I am, giving fashion advice to another girl! Two weeks ago I wouldn't have known a bodice from a flounce, and now look at me! Oh dear, she's going to find out soon enough what a fraud I am...

"Thank you, Mistress. In that case, I think I know just what to wear. Let me see." Merizel went towards the trunk.

"If you'll excuse us, then," Garia said, "we'll have to go and get changed ourselves. I'll see you again downstairs in the dining room. It's the same room where we had lunch, I'm sure the palace staff will direct you."

Jenet took Garia back to their own quarters by a more direct route than Garia had used earlier that day. They both changed and made their way down to the dining room. On entering, Garia blinked.

Keren! I've just spent the whole afternoon without him and I didn't even notice. She mentally shook herself. He's the Crown prince, of course there must be other things he should be doing rather than follow me round all the time.

Not that I object to him following me around all the time, of course...

He came towards her from a cluster of men standing at one end of the room.

"Garia! I'm sorry I couldn't be there, something came up."

"Oh? Something important?"

His face grew serious. "Aye. We've had word that Yod has invaded Ferenis." At her blank expression, he explained, "Ferenis is another Valley state a little closer to us than Yod is. They're still a longish way away, but we have to view everything like that with caution." He grimaced. "We thought Ferenis was strong enough to stand up to Yod, they've done so several times in the past. Looks like we haven't been paying enough attention to what's been going on at the upper end of the Valley."

"Right," she said. "If you have time this evening, I want you to give me a geography lesson. I still know absolutely nothing about this strange land I've ended up in, and I think that has to change. I need to know what's going on, Keren, so that I can give you the best help I can."

Keren nodded. "Father has asked me to make sure you know what's happening," he said. "After all, you might be behind this invasion." She raised an eyebrow at him, and he continued. "What I mean is, they couldn't get you by kidnapping you, perhaps they are trying another, more basic method."

Merizel had arrived catching the end of this exchange and stood watching them both with her mouth wide open.

"Lady Merizel," Keren greeted her and she responded with a curtsey.

"Your Highness," she stammered as she rose. "Is it true? That Yod tried to kidnap Mistress Garia?"

"That's not easy to answer," he told her. "There was a kidnap attempt, yes, and certain other things happened which strongly suggest Yod was behind it, but we've no absolute proof. Fortunately, they're a long way away so you can rest easy. There's no immediate danger."

"Thank you, Your Highness." Her brow furrowed. "I've heard of Yod, but I know nothing about it. Is it a Valley state?"

Keren blinked. What did they teach these people out in the country?

"It is, Milady. Perhaps you'd better accompany Garia and myself after dinner. She is new to Alaesia and hasn't had time to learn her surroundings yet. I'm going to explain the Valley and our neighboring countries to her."

Merizel gave Garia a look of surprise. "Mistress? I thought you'd been here some time."

Garia thought. "Um, I'm not sure. Perhaps nine or ten days, my memory was bad when I first came here."

"Nine or ten days?" The disbelief was plain. "How could you - I don't understand. How could you possibly - " she shook her head.

"I haven't had a chance to explain to her yet," Garia told Keren. "It's not surprising she's confused."

Keren grinned. "I can't imagine why. Even after you tell her, it's going to be difficult to accept. Shall we go and sit down? My father is heading for his chair."

~o~O~o~

"This is the best map I could find of the area," Keren said as he spread the sheet of parchment on the table. "It probably isn't very good by your own standards, Garia, I know, but it should be enough for tonight."

"No, that looks just fine," she assured him.

"This is the Valley, as you can see," he gestured. "It runs roughly South-West to North-East and empties out into the ocean here. That's the Shan Ocean, although since it's the only one nearby most people just say 'The Ocean'. We're here." He tapped the map. "As you can see, we're now right up against the estuary but that didn't always used to be true. This is Palarand, and here's the city, also called Palarand.

"Now, as you can see the River Sirrel comes from the mountains far to the South-East and is fairly large by the time it comes into the Valley. Because of the way it curls about all over the valley floor there are rounded areas of fine river soil sticking out both sides of the Valley. Most of these were settled centuries ago and form each of the Valley countries. Because they are usually attached to one side or other, we call them 'north' countries or 'south' countries." He tapped Palarand. "As you can see, we're a south country, but we used to be a north one, occupying this area here and this valley here."

Garia saw Palarand, with the center being surrounded by Crescent Lake and she realized what must have happened. The bulges looked like the interlocking parts of a jigsaw in shape, joined to one side or other of the valley.

"This valley to the north is the Palar valley," he continued, "and we hold all of it including these three tributary valleys here, here and here." He then tapped an area between Crescent Lake and the estuary. "This part of Palarand used to be a country called Kendeven. It was - still is - marshy lowland not fit for much except grazing, and we now call it 'Lower Palarand'. The loop on the other side used to be called Brikant, and the Duke of Brikant still runs it on behalf of my father. It's now called 'Upper Palarand'.

"What happened was, the neck of land joining us to the Palar valley got narrower and narrower as the river moved, and we had to keep moving the road connecting the two parts of the country as the land got eaten away. Then, one night about two hundred and seventy years ago there was a terrific storm and the whole thing got washed away. Central Palarand, where we are now, became an island and the next few years were difficult, but we knew that the ends of the old river course would eventually silt up and join us to Kendeven and Brikant. Treaties were made and the three countries were joined under one name. As I said, the Duke of Brikant remains the hereditary ruler of Upper Palarand but Lower Palarand is governed usually by a cousin of the King or, if there isn't one, by some other favored relative. The Palar Valley is usually governed by whoever is Crown Prince but for now my uncle Gilbanar has it."

"I see," Garia said. "So, Crescent Lake used to be the river, then?"

"That's right. Now, because of the wanderings of the river, a sailing craft will take more than a day to get past the whole of Palarand, so one of my ancestors had canals cut across the necks of Kendeven and Brikant. We charge a small toll for traffic but it cuts down the travel time to less than a quarter of what it used to be. It also means that Crescent Lake hasn't dried out very much, which means we have our own, exclusive supply of fish."

"I remember crossing the canal on the road from Moxgo," Garia said. "I don't remember much of that journey, but I do remember that."

"It's quite clever, really," Keren said, "because not only have we a canal that makes us money and saves everyone time, but we also have a defense measure in place. The canals mean that this part of Palarand is effectively an island again, but this time we are in control of the situation. If we get attacked we can demolish the canal bridges. Now, look here."

Keren pointed to a spot on the north shore of the estuary. "This is Viridor, it's the furthest up river a deep-water sailing ship can safely get because of the shoals of the river. For some reason the estuary is deeper on the northern side. The country is called Vardenale, and my sister Malann is married to the Crown Prince, so she's not far if we want to visit. Viridor isn't the capital, that's Brankane right round here, but Viridor is the largest city in Vardenale." He pointed to a mark further round where Vardenale faced the ocean.

"On the southern shore of the estuary we have the Duchy of Plif. It's a poor land of marshes and bogs, but we have good relations with them. One of Plif's main products is something called Wax-tail, which is a reed we boil up to extract the wax we use to waterproof our rainy season clothing with."

Merizel leaned over the map. "Highness, can you show me South Reach, please?"

"Here, Milady." Keren pointed to an area right inside the southern bend of Crescent Lake. "South Reach used to be the southernmost point of Palarand before the Great Storm. That's why the Baron's holding is that great big stone fort, because in the days before the storm the south side of the river - as it was - was where we most often got attacked from."

Keren pulled another sheet of parchment from a shelf and laid it over the map of the Valley.

"Before I take you up-river, so to speak, I thought I'd show you the Palar Valley. As I said, Uncle Gilbanar looks after that on behalf of the King. Formally, it's known as North Palarand. As you can see it's not that wide but it goes a long way into the mountains. These three side valleys are ours as well." He glanced at Garia. "It's just as well we have it since there is precious little metal here in the Great Valley. All of Palarand's mines and foundries are in North Palarand and are the main reason we're one of the more prosperous countries around."

Garia breathed a sigh of relief. "That's the best news you could have given me, Highness. The advances I am attempting to give you depend on large quantities of raw materials and I am well aware that you won't find those around here. I had wondered about the mountains to the south - how much of that is claimed by Palarand?"

Keren shrugged. "Very little, Garia. Oh, we look after the route to Moxgo about as far as the Lookout," he lifted the North Palarand map and tapped a location on the Valley map, "and we occasionally send patrols further in after bandits, but most of the mountains are by custom unclaimed by anyone. It's assumed that all have free passage across and through the mountains, both north and south. Just as everyone has free passage up and down the Sirrel, whether they are permitted to land anywhere or not."

Keren put the two maps away and pulled out another which showed the Great Valley to a much smaller scale.

"Now, this is a view of most of the Great Valley," he said. "Upstream of Brikant is Brugan, the Duchess of Brugan is my Aunt Kasona so we've good relations with them. Beyond them is Virgulend, then Smordan and Joth. Joth is an oddity since the river splits and flows either side of it so it's an island. For some reason, unlike what happened with Palarand and what happens elsewhere, neither side looks as though it is going to silt up. Beyond Joth is Forguland and then we get to Ferenis and finally Yod. You'll notice that Yod is all this area, that's because they've swallowed up their neighbors here and here." He looked up at Garia. "Is that enough detail for you, or shall I tell you about more of Alaesia?"

"Um, no, thank you, that's enough for now," she replied. "I'm never going to get all these names straight anyway, but at least now I can picture the area around us in my mind. Sometime soon I'll want to come back to you and learn some more, I think. It could be important for the future."

Garia became aware of Merizel's intense stare.

"Surely you could just take this map and -" Merizel stopped. "Oh, you can't read our letters, can you? That's really odd, I'm going to have difficulty remembering that after what you did this afternoon. Just exactly how far away is your home, Mistress?"

Garia sighed. She was becoming tired and wanted to get back to her suite and relax but forced herself to answer Merizel's question.

"I'm not from the Valley, Alaesia or even Anmar," she said. "I come from somewhere else entirely. Another world, so far away I don't know how I got here or if I can ever get back."

Garia explained how she had arrived and much of what had happened since, but Merizel's upbringing hadn't given her much imagination so she had difficulty comprehending what she was being told. If it hadn't been for Garia's performance at the afternoon's meetings she probably wouldn't have believed any of it. She certainly didn't believe it when Garia told her that where she had come from, she had been a boy like Keren.

"That's impossible!" she said flatly. "It's just not possible for your body to have changed that much! And you don't sound or act like a boy at all!"

Heh. You might just change your mind when you join us in the gym tomorrow morning.

Garia shrugged. "I didn't say that this was the same body I had there, or that it had been changed. It's as though my mind had been moved through space on its own. I have no answers for you at all about what's happened to me, and I'm not sure I'll ever get any."

Merizel remained unconvinced. "I'm sure there's a perfectly reasonable explanation we'll find out eventually. All that knowledge you were talking about this afternoon, how did you come to know all that? Were you much older on the other world, then?"

Garia shook her head. "No, but we are much better educated, all of us. I wasn't joking when I said everyone could read at a young age. Earth - the world I come from - is very different than this world, and I hope to pass on much of what even such a young person as myself has learned over there, to people on this world. The King has given me his full backing, and I'm trying to pass things on as fast as I can."

Merizel thought, this can't possibly be true, can it? On the other hand, she certainly knows some things we don't and she'll need help if this afternoon is anything to go by. I think I'll stay here and keep an eye on her, try and find out the truth. Besides which, I'm beginning to like being in the palace. That's got to be a good thing, hasn't it?

~o~O~o~

"Ow!"

"Sorry, Mistress. Have you bruised yourself again today?"

"I don't know, Jenet. I keep forgetting I have these things on my chest now, and they're rather sensitive, aren't they? I think the Prince might have come into rather firm contact with them once or twice today."

"I'm not surprised, Mistress. Before today, I could never have imagined that a woman of Palarand would be able to do such things to a man. But, for all the strangeness of the occasion, I have to say you certainly knew what you were doing."

"Hah! Keren didn't of course, did he? I was quite pleased to wipe that smug grin off his face a couple of times. Ooh," Garia said, rubbing her breasts with the insides of her lower arms, "these certainly feel funny tonight. Say, tomorrow afternoon I think we'll pay Mistress Yolda a visit and try and get the old bat to make me some proper clothes to practice in, would that be a good idea? I'll see if I can get her to make me something that supports my breasts a little better than these bodices do. Although, that could take a bit of argument, couldn't it?"

What Garia knew about women's underwear came from either the TV or from games at school, which in practice meant very little. What she thought she needed was something like a sports bra, but with nothing remotely resembling Spandex available it might be an uphill task. Still, tomorrow was another day and an alternative suggestion might be forthcoming. She sighed in relief as Jenet unlaced the bodice and she stood naked ready for her evening wash.

"As you say, Mistress. You're asking for clothing no-one in Palarand has ever needed before."

"I suspect that it won't be the last time, either," Garia noted. "While I can get by with most of what's in the dressing room, and I don't want to upset everyone by wearing clothes that look too strange, I do have one or two ideas which might make my life a little easier."

"Your idea for a tunic which can be disguised as a gown was a good one, Mistress. I'm sure your other ideas will be just as useful."

Yeah. Well, given that my knowledge of women's fashion could be written on the head of a pin, I'm not so sure of that. Still, here on Anmar I have a clean canvas, so to speak, so there's no reason I can't make my own rules up, is there? I've got plenty of other things to do first, so there'll be time enough to figure out what I want in that regard.

"What do you think of Merizel?" Garia asked as she slid into the water. Jenet joined her and they began soaping each other's bodies.

"I'm not sure, Mistress," Jenet said diplomatically. "She's an outsider and I think you've surprised her somewhat. You're not like anyone she's ever likely to have met before. Mind you, considering where she was brought up that could apply to most of us in the palace. Did you see what she was like when we were introduced to her by the Queen?"

"She'll change as she gets used to living in the palace, won't she?"

"Of course, everyone does. But, Mistress, she's the daughter of a Baron and she'll expect to be treated a certain way. That won't bother anyone else here because all the nobility do it, but you're different, if I may say so, Mistress. I don't know how she'll adapt to being around you at all."

Garia busied herself with washing soapy water off herself and then said, "It seems to me that people either like me or fear me for what I might represent. Would you agree with that?"

"Yes, Mistress," Jenet nodded firmly. "I think that's exactly right. But, you haven't had to deal with anyone from the nobility before, so I don't know what will happen with Lady Merizel."

"Hmm. Well, she won't be the only noble person I'll come across, so perhaps I'll have to use her to learn how these people think they ought to be treated. I still have a lot to learn about Palarand and she's part of it."

"Yes, Mistress. Remember, though, that she's only a young girl, the youngest daughter of a minor baron, and there will be others who behave nothing like her."

"Warning noted, Jenet. Now, hand me that towel."

Lying in bed later, she mulled over the day's events.

The gym session was very satisfactory. If I can carry on like this, I'll have the core sorted out in a couple months and begin to plan for the future. This afternoon, we have a start in printing, which is definitely something we'll need for the future. The other things I have in mind, we'll have to have written records, instruction manuals, and everything else that goes with mechanization so printing is a must. The typewriter business was a lucky bonus, I guess. And I've made a good start with Margra, although I'm so hazy about the medical aspects that I suspect the locals will have to do most of the work themselves.

Looks like it's all going according to plan.

Wait, what? There's a plan? Where did that thought come from?

The horrible thought came then that perhaps she'd been programmed to do what she had begun, but however much she searched her mind there was no evidence of it.

If it's been done properly, then I wouldn't notice anyway. I suspect it's just paranoia on my part, who in their right mind would pick a random kid from Earth and fling them God knows how far away, give them a new body and make them upgrade the civilization they find themselves in?

Nope, not possible. I could have been picked up by anyone on that mountain, been taken anywhere. Or I could have just stayed there and died of exposure. Nobody could possibly have predicted that I'd end up here, in a palace, with a King who just can't wait for me to upgrade his society. The whole idea is crazy!

Merizel discovers that life in the palace isn't at all what she expected. She struggles to comprehend the relationship between her new employer and the Prince... which seems to be very physical. Meanwhile, Garia has difficulty containing her temper over some innocent questions.

Somewhere Else Entirely

by Penny Lane

21 - Educating Merizel

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

---

Merizel raised an eyebrow as Garia entered the dining room followed by her maid. Whatever was she wearing? That looked like an ill-fitting tunic on top, clearly too big for her, and why was she wearing a mismatched skirt with it? In fact, why wasn't she just wearing a light summer gown, like she herself was? Surely she wasn't wearing boots, not in weather like this? And tights? Most peculiar! Perhaps she has some kind of leg problem, blotches, maybe? Perhaps that's why she has to have them covered up? But... her legs had appeared perfectly smooth and toned when they had first met yesterday before lunch! She smoothed the expression of disapproval from her face and went over to greet Garia.

"Mistress Garia! Good morning to you."

"Lady Merizel." Merizel noticed that Garia omitted the obligatory curtsey. "You had a restful night? I find it sometimes takes a day or two to settle into a strange room and bed."

"Thank you, yes, Mistress. It was rather hot, but then all Palarand is hot at the moment." Merizel felt she had to mention the girl's clothing since it was so odd. "Your attire, is there some particular reason to dress that way?"

Garia grinned at her. "Yes, there is. After breakfast the Prince, Jenet and I will be going to use one of the chambers the Guard normally use, to do some exercises." She thought, and then added, "I suggest you come along and watch us today. I'm not suggesting you have to get involved, either today or in the future, but since I'll be exercising every morning from now on it would be good that you have some idea of what I'll be doing." She shrugged. "After that, it will be up to you if you wish to get yourself involved or not."

Merizel asked cautiously, "Exercise, Mistress? Why would any woman want to exercise? What kind of exercise do you intend?"

"That's kind of difficult to explain, Merizel. It will be best if you come and watch, then you'll understand."

"As you wish, Mistress. After all, I'm supposed to be helping you, so I need to understand your routine. Of course, when I was acting for my father I already knew his routine so it was easy to fit in. Living in the palace is somewhat different, isn't it?"

"It certainly is, especially for someone like me who's not used to any of the local customs."

Keren entered the dining room and came to join them.

"Good day to you both, Lady Merizel, Mistress Garia." To Garia he added, "Looking forward to our next session? I am."

"I am," she replied, "but I am beginning to suspect your motives."

He looked at her seriously. "Trust me, Mistress, I am eager to learn more of anything you might teach me." He grinned, then. "However, I have to admit there is a certain... additional incentive to exercising with you. Shall we go and join the others at table?"

~o~O~o~

When they arrived at the Large Training Room they found Captain Bleskin waiting for them. The sounds of his men could clearly be heard exercising through the open door in the field beyond. Garia formally introduced Merizel to him and he bowed to her.

"Highness, Milady, Mistress," he addressed them, "I have been thinking about your exercise needs since last we spoke, Mistress. There is very little reason that you cannot continue using the Small Training Room for another three weeks or so, but once the rains start in earnest we shall all be forced indoors. Once that happens we will want to use all available space so I would like the Small Training Room back, if I may. However, there is another room it may be possible that you could use. If you would like to walk this way."

He led them to a door in the opposite end of the wall from the one that they normally used and opened it. Beyond was another room the same size as the Small Training Room but which obviously hadn't been actively used for some time. It was nearly filled with all kinds of junk and discarded items, all connected in some way to the Palace Guard. Saddles, both worn and damaged were piled in heaps on the floor. Lances, shields, boots, helmets, odd pieces of armor lay scattered around the room or propped against the walls. Other unidentifiable bulging sacks could be seen piled against the far wall.

"Much of this is spare or retained for salvage, Mistress," Bleskin explained, waving a hand. "Some of it was confiscated after battles or from bandits, some is just worn-out equipment, other items are trophies of war. It's mostly been dumped in here to keep it dry and out of the way, since we didn't need the room for training. It's probably about time I got some of the men to tidy it up and throw away the rubbish or send the re-usable parts back to the armorers. If we clear the room, Mistress, do you think it would be suitable for your purposes?"

Garia's eyes darted round the room. "It's the same size as the other room, isn't it, Captain?"

Bleskin nodded. "Aye, it is, but the lighting isn't as good as the other room. It doesn't have the protective planking round the walls, either."

"That won't be a problem for us, Captain. And you needn't throw anything away either. If you tidy all this up, I don't see why it wouldn't fit in that half of the room, and then we can use this half, near the door. The only thing I'll need which I don't see here is a felt mat."

"That we can easily provide, Mistress. Just give me four or five days and I should have the room cleared for you."

Garia smiled at him. "Thank you very much, Captain! I know I've asked you for a lot, I do appreciate what you're doing for us."

He beamed at her. "Telescopes, Mistress, and semaphore signaling! That's all the incentive I need to provide this for you. Tell me, when do you think I might be able to watch you at exercise? Sometime soon, perhaps?"

Garia looked thoughtful. "I wish it could be soon, Captain, but I think I'd rather leave it for a week. I'm still having to adjust to this new body," Merizel's eyes narrowed, "and my size makes things different than I was used to before." She gave him another smile. "So far, everything seems to be going the way I expected it to, so perhaps next week we'll be able to give you a reasonable demonstration."

Bleskin returned her smile. "I'll look forward to it, Mistress. And now, I must go out to the field and join my men, if you'll all excuse me. Highness, Milady, Mistress." He bowed three times, turned and walked out onto the field.

Garia, Keren and Merizel, accompanied as always by Jenet and Bursila, made their way down to the Small Training Room.

"Merizel, Bursila, I suggest you go and sit down over there," she told them. "Keren and I have to get one of the mats out."

Merizel walked to the indicated bench and sat, Bursila standing beside and behind her as she would normally do. She watched with puzzlement as Garia and Keren pulled one of the rolled-up mats into the center of the room and began laying it out flat. Why didn't they get servants in to do that kind of work for them? That's why one had servants, after all, wasn't it? Then she watched in amazement as Garia's maid pulled her mistress's skirt off and laid it over the end of their bench before retying the pink sash around Garia's waist. Merizel's suspicions were confirmed, Garia was indeed wearing tights, the effect of seeing so much leg was scandalous, but strangely the Prince didn't seem concerned at all. The three then took positions on the wood floor, Keren and Jenet facing Garia, who just happened to also be facing Merizel.

"These are just loosening-up exercises," Garia called to Merizel. "Just watch for now, see what we do."

She led them through the exercises they had done so far, discovering that they had already seeped into the muscle memory of her two students. With that in mind, she introduced them to more of the forms and repeated them until both appeared to have understood the new moves.

Merizel watched this performance with increasing puzzlement. It had seemed to be some kind of dance at first, but later there appeared faintly sinister overtones. What kind of movements were those for any woman to be doing? What was the purpose? She watched in further puzzlement as the Prince and Jenet came and sat beside her on the bench.

Garia took her initial position again and ran through the whole Tai Chi exercise from beginning to end before coming to the bench and accepting a drink from her maid. Then, she stood at one end of the mat and began her individual rolling exercises. She stopped these abruptly and stood to call out to Keren.

"Keren, perhaps you should start doing these as well? Come over and join me."

"I was wondering when you'd ask," he replied, getting up and joining her.

Merizel was shocked by the familiarity the two showed one another. Maker, even two who were betrothed didn't talk to one another like that! And the girl had only been here twelve days, by her own reckoning, so they hadn't known each other that long! She began to wonder if she'd wandered into a house for the insane by mistake. Could the rules in the palace be so different than those at home? Yes, things were bound to be different in the city compared to where she had been brought up, but this...

She watched the inexplicable things happening on the mat. A side-glance told her that Garia's maid saw nothing unusual with what was going on, but that didn't explain whether this was normal or not. The two of them were practicing falling over! After a while, Merizel perceived that Garia was in fact teaching the Prince how to fall, roll, and keep on moving until he came to his feet again, a clever trick, but what use was it? Neither of them was a traveling player, an acrobat, so why were they doing this?

Laughing, the two stood and took positions at either end of the mat. Merizel watched curiously. Suddenly, the Prince attacked Garia! She watched in shock as Keren rushed in, his hands stretched out to grab her. Unconsciously, Merizel flinched at the expected brutal contact. The next thing she knew, her eyes were as wide as they could get, and both her fists were jammed into her mouth to stop her screaming with disbelief as Garia calmly bent, grabbed Keren's tunic, twisted and sent him sailing over her body. The Prince landed on one shoulder, folding his body to turn his fall into a roll, which ended with him coming smoothly to his feet and turning to grin at Garia.

"Was that better for you?" he asked her.

"I have to say, Keren, that you're a quick learner. Want to try it the other way round?"

"Of course. I think I have the moves right, although obviously I'll have to modify them because you're so small and light."

She grimaced back at him. "Yes, it's going to be a problem. Before, I was about the same size and weight as you so everything worked out properly. But my Sensei - um, that's what the master of my art is called - would say that the size of your opponent was immaterial, that if you do the movement correctly the end result would be the same whoever your opponent was. Still, we have to work with whatever we've got. Ready?"

This time, it was Garia who sailed over Keren's hip. Merizel had gotten over her original shock but still couldn't believe what she was seeing. The girl, younger and smaller than herself, was heaving the heir to the throne about as if he was a sack of meal! She watched as the 'exercise', or whatever it was, progressed, watching the two people on the mat apparently fighting one another but equally apparently somehow avoiding injuring each other, instead laughing and joking while they were doing it!

Finally the pair decided they had done enough for the day and came to the bench to get the drinks Jenet had made ready for them. Both were breathing heavily, although not gasping, and both tunics were heavily creased and stained with sweat.

"Well, what did you think, Merizel?"

"Mmm-, ah, Garia, I don't know what to say," a shaken Merizel replied. "I have never, ever, seen a girl do things like that before. And to the Crown Prince! What is the purpose of such violent activity?"

Garia drained off her beaker and handed it to Jenet for a refill.

"Self-defense, Merizel. If I had been able to do this the night they attempted to kidnap me, I might not have jumped out the window. At home we do it for sport and to keep our bodies fit."

Merizel assumed her usual confused expression. "But, why would we need to defend ourselves? Surely that is what the men are for, to look after us women? And why would I want to be fit? Am I not fit enough for what I do?"

Garia thought about her answer carefully. "On my world, women lead more independent lives than you do here, so there is more need for some means of self defense. The men are there as well, of course, and they will defend women when there is need, but sometimes the circumstances are such that you have to be able to take matters into your own hands. These methods I'm teaching Keren can be used by men as well as women, in fact most of the people who did it with me on Earth were men. There's no age barrier, either. Anyone from six to sixty can practice these moves if they are fit enough."

Merizel's eyebrows narrowed as she considered this revelation. This world Mistress Garia claimed to have come from sounded like a very violent place, and Alaesia was violent enough!

Garia continued, "As for being fit, consider this. If you can keep your body fit, you will live longer and catch fewer illnesses - and retain your natural beauty longer."

Garia had deliberately added that as she thought it would catch Merizel's attention, and she was right.

"My beauty? How is that possible?"

"You'll be working your body as it was designed to be used. You'll keep your muscles stronger for a longer time, and your circulation will improve, as will your breathing. Your body will make better use of the food you eat, and you'll look younger for longer."

"I... don't know," Merizel replied finally. "Your exercises seem very... violent. Do you want me to do them with you?" She definitely looked unhappy at that idea.

Garia quickly shook her head. "No, not at all. In fact, I think I don't want you to get involved with this at all to start with. We're still working out what to do and where and how to do it, so trying to teach you anything would just complicate matters right now."

"But... you're teaching the Prince," she objected.

"Who was training with the Palace Guard until I arrived here," Garia explained. She stopped and thought. "But there's no reason you and Bursila couldn't start doing Tai Chi with Keren and Jenet. That's a non-violent form of the exercise which will keep you supple and ready for the day's activities and is also suitable for all. You wouldn't have to put special clothes on or anything like that. I want to get as many people here as possible doing Tai Chi."

"I don't know about that," Merizel said. "I've never done anything like that before in my life."

"Think of it as a kind of slow dance if you like. It won't be hard for either of you to learn, and it really will keep your body supple and well-stretched. Look!"

Garia walked out to a clear area of the wooden part of the floor and did the splits. This time, she was listening and heard the fabric begin to part as her legs straightened out to either side. Merizel just gaped at her. Garia carefully got to her feet without exposing anything and walked back to the bench.

"If I keep doing my exercises," she said, "I'll still be able to do that in forty years time."

Merizel gulped. "That looked painful."

"Not at all! Any girl our age should be able to do that unless her posture was so bad she'd got stiff." She eyed Merizel up and down. "You'd need to loosen up a bit, but I don't see any reason you couldn't do that if you wanted to."

Jenet reached into the big bag she carried and handed Keren and Garia a towel each to wipe their faces with. They scrubbed the sweat off and wiped the excess dampness from their hair and necks. Merizel watched fascinated. She knew that such things happened, after all her own father had armed retainers who trained just as the guardsmen outside were probably training, but she had never witnessed such a display before in her life, nor observed them while they were practicing. That would be unladylike.

The Prince's behavior was strange, too. Although he had treated her with the deference a woman of her station expected his behavior towards Garia was distinctly unusual, and Merizel couldn't work out what it meant. At first, Merizel had assumed that Garia was going all out to catch the Prince, but consideration of Garia's status made her realize that was impossible, and the two were far too friendly in any case. They were behaving almost like brother and sister, or, she considered wonderingly, brother and brother. Very strange!

Merizel was also finding herself somewhat attracted to the Prince. The combination of watching him work out, his constant smiles, grins and gentle banter plus the effects of the good, clean honest odors coming from his stained tunic and flushed skin made her fervently wish that the rules on marrying Princes were not quite so strict. Perhaps I can become his close friend, she thought, at least until the woman who is to become his queen comes along. After all, Garia has managed to get close enough!

"Mistress," Jenet said, "The guardsmen are coming back into the main hall."

"Oh, should we go?"

"I think so, Mistress. You'll need to get cleaned up before lunch."

"Whereas I can appear looking like this," Keren said to Jenet with a twinkle in his eye.

Jenet blushed. "Highness, you know I included you."

Keren laughed. "Of course, Jenet. Come on, perhaps we'd better go."

In the larger room the men were gathering, glad to get in out of the hot sun. The four women accompanying the Prince were all given appraising glances by the men. A few looked at the sweat-stained tunics Keren and Garia wore and wondered just what the two had been doing. Some looked at the tall unfamiliar girl with an aristocratic bearing and her maid, estimating their chances at some kind of meeting in the future. Some waved or grinned at Keren, who had been training with them until recently.

"Hey, Highness! What are you doing in that room with four women?"

Keren grinned back at them, then turned and gestured with the palm of his hand.

"Wait here while I go and squash these no-good idlers."

He walked over to the group containing the man who had called.

"I've been working hard all morning, unlike you lot of work-shy layabouts who've probably spent the whole time sitting about soaking up the sun."

"We've been soaking up the sun all right, Highness," the heckler replied, "stood around waiting our turn at the butts." The speaker's eyes flicked up and down Keren's disheveled state. "What's going on, then? You chasing them round the room?" An evil grin came. "Or are they chasing you?"

"As if I'd get the chance. No, I've been learning how to fight dirty, and bare-handed too. Mistress Garia is teaching me things new to Alaesia."

"What, her? That little thing?" The speaker roared with laughter which suddenly cut off when he realized that Keren wasn't joining in. He looked again at Garia and noticed that her tunic top was as sweat-stained as Keren's. "You're serious? Surely not!" He looked at Keren's face again. "Maker, he's serious! She can do that? With her bare hands? I don't believe you."

"Believe it, Torin. We've only just started, but we'll be able to give you a demonstration in two or three weeks or so and then I'll hand you all your worthless backsides."

Torin looked meditatively at Garia. "I'd heard about her, and I didn't believe all the stories. You telling us they are all true?"

Keren grinned. "Since I haven't heard all the stories I can't answer that. But she's good, and she knows her subject. You just wait and see."

The guardsman looked over Keren's appearance, aware that he must have been working quite hard to end up looking the way he did. "Are we supposed to be learning what she's teaching you, Highness?"

"More than likely, Torin. That will be up to Captain Bleskin to decide, of course." Another grin. "And don't expect her to be doing all the teaching, either. You'll probably have to put up with me instead."

Torin groaned, obviously unhappy about the hard work looming in his future.

Another man spoke up. "Highness, who's the aristocratic type with Mistress Garia?"

"Oh, she's the youngest daughter of a minor Baron, who just happened to be visiting her brother in the city. Baron Kamodar of South Reach." The guardsmen looked blank. "No, me neither, although Father says he knows the Baron. Mistress Garia is getting so busy she needs some extra help, so Lady Merizel will become her secretary, if we don't frighten her off first."

"I can understand that, Highness. Life has been more... interesting... since Mistress Garia arrived."

Keren grinned again. "Don't I know it! We must go, we'll need to get cleaned up before lunch."

He rejoined the women and the group made their way out of the hall, taking a route which would bring them all back to the household corridor as quickly as possible.

"Keren," Garia asked him as they walked, "if all the guardsmen are out practicing on the field, who's guarding the palace?"

"That's easy, Garia, that isn't the entire guard, only a fifth of it. The Guard is divided into five Quadrants." He saw her mouth twitch and chuckled. "Yes, I know, it's a standing joke. One Quadrant is training, two others are on guard duty, one does the night shift and the last is on leave, or occasionally on duty away from the palace. There's about forty in each Quadrant and they change duty once a week. The first week it's training, then walls, gates and watchtowers, then they move inside to guard chambers and corridors. Finally they get a week off which gives them a chance to adapt to a week of night duty."

"Ah. I wondered why there were guardsmen around but they always seemed to be out on the field when we got there."

"Yes. It's a good system, keeps them fresh, doesn't overwork them or let them get bored doing the same job all the time. That's why they were able to respond quickly that night. The problem then was working out just where you were, nobody expected you to be away from your night chamber, and nobody expected anyone to be in the herb garden."

"Highness," Merizel said, "did Mistress Garia really climb out a window?"

"Oh, yes," he told her, "it was quite dramatic. That's why she got moved to Elizet's old suite. And, here we are. I'll leave you to go and change, I'll see you in the dining room. Milady, Mistress."

Garia showed Merizel into her sitting room while Keren wandered off to his own quarters.

"I have to go and bathe, why don't you amuse yourself by looking around. I've nothing to hide."

Jenet collected two fluffy robes and the pair retired to the bathroom. Jenet pulled off the sash, skirt and tunic, and then carefully unwound another sash Garia had decided to try under her tunic but over the bodice. This had started under her breasts, then round the back under the armpit, spread to hold one breast firmly, round the back again, under the other armpit and across the other breast. It had made a difference but Garia had found it bulky and uncomfortable while they were active on the mat, not to mention hot. Oh, well, it was only an experiment. Now all I have to do is remember exactly how a sports bra is made, then convince someone to make one for me.

Once clean and refreshed and wrapped in a robe, Garia found Merizel in her dressing room rifling through her gowns.

"Oh! I hope you don't mind, Garia. You did say I could look round."

"No, that's fine, carry on. All this clothing is out of the Palace Wardrobe in any case since I had almost nothing to wear when I arrived. These are mostly old gowns that belonged to Keren's sisters when they were growing up."

"They gave you all of this from the Palace Wardrobe? These gowns look quite fine. The quality of the stitching is very good, but I'd expect that from the palace." Merizel gave Garia a calculating look. "If I'm now to be living in the palace, do you think they would let me have gowns to wear from the store?"

"Um, I'd take it slow if I were you. I'm not sure how they would take to you helping yourself, if you already have gowns to wear." Garia moved to a shelf and reached. "I was an exceptional case, these were what I was wearing when I came to Anmar."

Merizel twitched at that uncomfortable sentence, but she took the satchel Garia handed her and carried it to the dressing table while Garia and Jenet selected a gown to wear for the rest of the day.

"What peculiar clothes!" She held up the jeans. "Trousers? You were wearing trousers? You surely didn't wear these, did you? They look too long for you."

"I told you," Garia said patiently, "on Earth I was a boy. The clothes fit me perfectly then."

Merizel held the impossible garment in her hand, looking at the strange design and fittings, and realized that she would never be able to find a rational explanation for Garia's appearance.

"I'm sorry, Mistress Garia," she said, "I really didn't believe your explanation of how you came here, it seemed much too... fantastic. I don't know that much about men's clothes but I've never seen anything like this before. I can't say if you have come from another world, but you've certainly come from somewhere a long, long way from the Valley. I'm sorry I doubted your story."

Garia smiled. "That's all right, Merizel. My story is so wild I'm surprised I believe it myself. Now, come and help me find something to wear."

"If you were a boy before," Merizel said slowly, "then... is all this clothing strange to you?"

"Yes and no," Garia replied. "On Earth neither men or women wear styles like they do here, but they did wear similar clothes in the distant past. I've had a bit of a crash course in wearing gowns so I'm comfortable now, but I wouldn't know how to choose a particular style or length for a special occasion. I have Jenet to help, of course, she's been marvelous, but because I'm new to Palarand I don't know what people are expected to wear."

"Oh. Yes, of course, I'd be delighted to help you, Garia. Although, I'm from a rural area and city styles are somewhat different to the eyes of a country girl like me. Still, between us we should manage, don't you think?"

Garia smiled. "That's what I'd hoped you'd say. And, this afternoon after our nap I was planning to go along and visit the Mistress of the Wardrobe. Perhaps you should come along and I'll introduce you."

She sat down in front of the dresser and let Jenet brush out her hair, finally coating it with a hint of the karzal-nut oil.

"Your hair," Merizel said. "When I first met you I thought it looked awful, that's because no-one in Palarand has short hair at all unless they've been really ill or had an accident. I think that was the first thing I noticed about you. I thought it made you look ridiculous because it showed off your neck, and that fringe is something only the very young girls wear these days. But I've since realized that it's actually a very good style, isn't it? I noticed that it didn't get in the way when you were throwing each other about earlier, and watching Jenet dry it just now showed me it's really easy to look after, isn't it? Do... the girls on your world all wear their hair that short?"

"You can wear long hair when doing martial arts," Garia replied, "but you'd have to braid it up or do something similar to keep it out of the way. Yes, that's one reason I asked for it short. Another was to make sure people understood I wasn't just another Palarand girl." Garia twisted in the chair to face Merizel. "To start with, they all thought I was making up huge stories, nobody would listen to what I said. I decided that since they were judging me by my appearance, I would have to change it. To answer your question, girls - women - wear their hair all kinds of lengths, some as long as yours, others shorn down to almost stubble. There's a certain amount of fashion involved and also which country you're in, I guess. Styles change over time as you might expect. This particular style," she reached up to finger the hair by her cheek, "is actually from a completely different culture to mine, a group of islands far away similar to the Kittrins here."

"The Kittrins? Who are they?"

Garia rolled her eyes. Trust the Queen to come up with an ignorant provincial for an assistant! I guess I can't blame her, though. She's no different than many back home who have never seen the sea and don't know where almost any foreign country is. Heck, some of them don't even know which State they're in!

"Never mind," she said. "Come on, it's time we went downstairs for lunch."

~o~O~o~

Garia lay on her sun-lounger, eyelids half closed as she began to drift off. Facing her lay Merizel and behind each of them their maids were settling down. Garia considered the morning's activities.

This morning was quite difficult, she thought. And then again, there were times it wasn't at all. Sometimes, when he touched me, some very odd things happened inside me. Other times, it seemed to do nothing at all. Sometimes, I just wanted to stop, to let him hold me close. Other times he was just a guy I was sparring with. Perhaps I've been too close to him for too long, even though I've barely been here two weeks. We've been almost constantly in each other's company, and I have to admit I like it that way. He's about my age, and despite our totally different upbringing we seem to click together just like that.

However, I have to ask myself, is it distracting me too much? Or, perhaps just as important, am I distracting him? After all, he's going to be King, perhaps he should be reserving his friendship for someone more his own level, someone who can take that friendship much further than I can?

Now, why exactly don't I want that to happen?

Hello! Guy inside here! I can't allow myself to get jealous when other girls want his attention. I'm not ready to have a relationship with a guy, am I? I know it's going to happen sometime, but I need to get comfortable in this skin first, and then it'll all seem natural, won't it?

So why does the thought of Keren marrying someone else fill me with anguish? Or fill me with rage, instead?

~o~O~o~

"Now, the Mistress of the Wardrobe is called Mistress Yolda," Garia said as the group walked through the corridors. "She's apparently been here forever and appears resistant to any kind of change. She doesn't like me at all, and when I first came she didn't want to give me anything except what she thought a lady of the court ought to be wearing. Of course, as you have seen today, I need to wear different things for exercising, and we had quite a battle over it. In the end Queen Terys has forced her to provide me with what I ask for, and she will be handing her office over to someone else when the rains come to an end."

"I know people like that," Merizel said. "Daddy's people are quite traditional but at least they know that fashions change, even if it all happens very slowly. Now, our neighbors Baron Runden and Lady Darina of Nether Bend have a Mistress of the Household called Mistress Jansy. She is much like you describe, never wanting to change anything. Poor Lady Darina is reluctant to visit far afield since her gowns look quite old-fashioned, and indeed the Baron's clothes are dated as well. Unfortunately, it seems that they can't get rid of her the way the Queen can."

"Ah, it's good you know the sort of person I'm talking about, then. So, be careful when we get there, I don't want to antagonize her or give her any reason to reject my requests."

"As you say, Garia."

Mistress Yolda was in her office, seated at her desk beside a man in a variation of the palace livery that Garia hadn't seen before. In front of them on Yolda's desk were a number of document piles which the two appeared to be going through. Yolda looked up when Garia entered, noted Merizel's presence, and returned her attention to the table.

"Your pardon, mistresses, I am momentarily busy," she said, without looking at them again. "If you would both take a seat, I shall see to your needs shortly."

Merizel looked as if she would burst into furious speech but Garia put up her hand, shook her head and quietened her, pointing to the chairs at the side of the office. They both sat down and waited, listening to Yolda compare a list of outdoor clothes with a similar list the man was consulting.

"Forty waterproof cloaks of the extra large size," the man said. "That's what we found. Not twenty-eight, like your records show. And does the palace really need forty cloaks that size?"

"Probably not," Yolda replied. "But, are you sure your men checked the sizing correctly? Some of them could be smaller cloaks stored on that shelf because there was no room elsewhere."

The man nodded. "A point, Mistress." He rose from his seat. "I will ask them to re-check what they found, paying careful attention to the sizes."

He came round the desk to the door, gave a bow to Garia and Merizel and departed.

Yolda looked up and spoke. "Mistress Garia." Her eyes went to Merizel.

"This is Lady Merizel, the daughter of Baron Kamodar of South Reach," Garia explained. "She has come to the palace to be my secretary. Master Terevor has given her the Cerise Chamber."

"Milady, welcome."

Merizel noticed that the old woman wearing pince-nez didn't bother to get up and curtsey. Yolda turned to a pile of documents on a nearby shelf.

"Ah, yes, I have a note of your arrival here. Your belongings have all been delivered? Is there anything you require from the Palace Wardrobe?"

"Thank you no, Mistress," Merizel replied. "I'm merely accompanying Mistress Garia today."

Yolda's jaw set since she had a good idea why Garia had come, but she kept her attention on Merizel.

"That is your maid with you, Milady? Then I must issue her with a suitable uniform."

Merizel looked bewildered. "But, she's my maid! She's not one of the palace staff, she has been my maid almost all my life!"

"That is so, Milady, and I hope she will continue with you for many more years, but while you reside in the palace, your servant should wear palace livery. That way, we can distinguish servants from visitors, who are not permitted to walk unaccompanied in much of the palace. If she were not to be in livery, the guard would be continually preventing her from doing her duty."

Merizel turned to Garia, who shrugged. "I didn't have a maid when I arrived, so I was assigned Jenet who already lived here. It sounds like a sensible arrangement to me, actually."

Merizel turned to her maid. "Bursila? You are technically still one of Daddy's retainers. Do you mind having palace livery? I can send you home if you think you would be too uncomfortable."

"Milady, I will wear the palace livery," Bursila replied. "As Mistress Garia says, it is a sensible idea. And if you send me away, you will have no-one here familiar with your ways."

"Very well, Milady," Yolda said. "I will of course need to measure her, but I can find someone else to fit her while I attend to Mistress Garia. Mistress? I expect I know why you are here."

"Yes, Mistress Yolda. The tunic and tights you provided me were adequate for my exercises, but of course they were sized and shaped for a man. Now that I know I will need them, I have come to ask you to make me several tunics my own size and shape."

Yolda looked at Garia for what seemed like a full minute before replying.

"Mistress, I cannot."

Garia opened her mouth to make a fierce response but nothing came. Instead, she had a shock, suddenly her view of the situation changed completely. The inside of her stomach twisted in a way she hadn't experienced before, and it frightened her.

Why am I doing this? Haven't I done enough damage for now? I've even managed to get this woman kicked out of her job, and in a world like this that might mean she ends up living like a pauper. Am I so arrogant to put my own wants in front of other people's? I've done nothing but disturb everything from the moment I got here. What gives me the right?

Then Yolda spoke again and brought her to her senses.

"Mistress, since I shall soon be leaving, and because the wardrobe is being audited, I should not be taking commissions for new garments. However, I can introduce you to one of my senior seamstresses, who would probably be able to provide you with what you desire."

"As you wish, Mistress Yolda."

"Then if you would wait here, Milady, Mistress."

Yolda got up and left the room. Garia was left to try and analyze what had just happened to herself.

"Garia? Are you all right? You looked quite odd for a moment."

Garia passed a hand over her forehead. "I don't know. I did feel a little odd, but I don't know why. Every time I've been here before it's been quite a battle, and perhaps that's what I expected today. I should have realized she wouldn't be doing the sewing herself." She sighed. "Perhaps I did a little too much this morning. I don't feel quite a hundred percent."

"What?"

Garia realized that nobody on Anmar used percentages. "Oh, it means I don't feel entirely right," she explained. "It's an expression from Earth I used without thinking."

Yolda returned with two women, both in their mid-thirties.

"This is Malissa, who will measure and fit out your maid, Milady," she said to Merizel. "Mistress Garia, this is Rosilda, who will discuss your needs with you. Malissa, Rosilda, take these people to the changing areas, please."

Each of the changing areas was about nine feet on a side and contained a single chair and a full-length metal mirror. Garia and Jenet followed Rosilda into one while Malissa took Merizel and Bursila into another.

"How may I assist you, Mistress?" Rosilda asked.

Garia explained, "Mistress Yolda gave me a guardsman's tunic for me to exercise in, as an experiment. The experiment was successful, but of course the tunic was not a very good fit on my body. I'd like you to make me a tunic that's more my size and shape, please. Of course, I know that it will be slightly different than what the guard wear, but that's all right, I realize that."

Rosilda looked Garia over carefully. "Mistress, a tunic? Is there nothing more suitable? I can make you a nice loose dress which would be better on a woman's shape."

"No, because what I do involves some quite pronounced movements, like this." Garia waved her arms and legs in what she hoped would cover the range of movement that she needed freedom for, making it plain that in her current gown the waist rode up and the sleeves were too tight. "It also involves falling to the ground and tumbling, so I will be wearing tights to ensure that nothing gets exposed. I just need a short tunic that comes down to here," she put the edge of her hand halfway down her thigh, "flared below the waist, short, wide sleeves that will let me move my arms freely and a neckline just like the men's tunics have."

Rosilda's eyebrows raised. "Such a garment would show too much, Mistress. I doubt you would be permitted to walk the palace dressed like that."

"That's perfectly understood. What I do now is wear a separate skirt with a sash around the waist to disguise the join. When I'm in the training room I take the skirt off."

"Ah, I understand, Mistress. Yes, I can probably make you something suitable, but since it will be unlike any garment we already make I will first have to make a mock-up and ask you to come back for a fitting and adjustments."

"That will be fine, Rosilda. I would expect something like that."

"Then what fabric shall we use, Mistress? I have a length of peach silk which would suit your coloring, or perhaps a cooling cotton in pale blue, especially as the weather is so warm?"

"No thank you, Rosilda, I want you to make it out of the same material as the men's tunics, please. This is to be a working garment, so it needs to be strong enough to take some abuse."

Rosilda showed distaste. "You wish to wear something that rough and heavy, Mistress? Surely not. I can easily find something more suitable for a young lady of the court such as yourself."

Garia felt a flash of irritation inside. Not again. How long is it going to take me to get them to understand what I want?

"That is exactly what I want, please," she said through gritted teeth, "and if you offer me something else I shall reject it. Now, I'm going to be wearing it every morning to exercise." Garia turned to Jenet. "About how many bells long would that be, Jenet?"

"About two and a half to three bells, Mistress."

"Thank you. In that time it's going to get all sweaty and creased, so as it's going to get washed every day it needs to be a tough cloth. If the design is good enough I'll probably ask you to make some more so that they can go in the palace laundry."

"Very well, Mistress, as you desire." Rosilda's face showed resistance to Garia's comments, but Mistress Yolda had already warned her that the Mistress had some strange requirements and the Queen's favor besides. "And the skirt?"

"That's not going to get the same treatment as the tunic, so you can make that just like you normally would," Garia said. "Perhaps slightly longer to hide the tights I shall be wearing underneath."

"As you wish, Mistress." Rosilda considered her options. "I should have a mock-up made by the end of tomorrow, Mistress, or perhaps the morning of the next day. Will that be acceptable?"

"Of course. Especially as it's something you've never made before."

"Let me think, then. Lacing at the back as normal?"

"No. No lacing, both because I don't want the bones you'd put in and because it would hurt if I were to fall on them. The tunic has to be loose-fitting, just like the ones the guardsmen wear, so I just want to be able to pull it over my head and tie it at the waist."

"Ah, of course, Mistress. I think I had better measure you again, then, to make sure the sizing I have is accurate. I have your measurements here that Mistress Yolda made when you arrived, I should make sure they are still correct."

Jenet helped Garia to take her afternoon gown off and Rosilda made careful measurements of Garia's whole body, taking note of where Garia wanted various parts of the garments to come. While Jenet helped her dress again Rosilda wrote down details of the required materials and then turned to Garia.

"Now, as to the detailing, Mistress. A nice scallop edge to the neckline, perhaps? Scalloping is fashionable at the moment, Mistress."

"No, no scalloping, thank you. Just plain, like the men's tunics."

"Perhaps a flounce at the hem?"

Garia felt another flash and sensed the red mist rising. "No, thank you."

"What about some lace detailing on the sleeves, then?"

Blam. Garia felt herself exploding into fury. "What is it with you stupid people? Why can't you just make me what I fucking ask you for?"

Having half shouted that out, she turned, crumpled onto the chair, put her head in her hands and began sobbing. Jenet immediately went to her and put her hands round her while Rosilda shrank away, white faced with shock and fear.

Jenet turned her face towards Rosilda. "She did tell you twice," she said softly. "She didn't want anything like that. Just plain like the men's, that all she needs. I'm sure she didn't mean to swear at you, it's just that she's been doing so much lately. She's tired."

Jenet turned her attention to Garia, pulling a cloth from her pouch to try and dry her mistress's face, but Garia was momentarily overwhelmed and paid her no attention. Eventually she stopped and raised her face to Rosilda.

"Sorry. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that, you're just trying to do your job. But I don't want anything fancy so stop trying to get me to have any."

"Mistress?" Rosilda was confused. Young ladies, especially of the court, didn't behave like this girl did. In fact, she couldn't ever remember being sworn at by a woman before, although she did hear the odd word from one or two of the men she had provided clothing for, when they forgot where they were.

"Mistress Garia is new to Palarand," Jenet said to her, understanding the problem. "She comes from somewhere else entirely. The customs and styles of her own country are different than ours."

"Ah, I didn't know, Jenet. Nobody explained that to me. I should apologize, Mistress, I should listen properly to what I am being told." She hesitated. "Mistress, I think I have enough information to begin making your garments. Perhaps I should go and leave you here in peace."

Garia made a wan smile. "Yes. Thank you, Rosilda, I'm sorry again I shouted at you. My temper seems a bit short this afternoon."

Rosilda bobbed a curtsey and left the room. Shortly afterwards Merizel and a newly-uniformed Bursila came in, their faces alive with curiosity.

"Did I just hear you swear at that woman?" Merizel whispered to Garia. "Whatever did she do?"

"Oh," Garia dismissed the incident with the tired wave of a hand, "she kept asking me about extra twiddly bits she wanted to add to the tunic and she wouldn't take no for an answer. I'm afraid I lost my temper."

"If you don't mind me saying so, Garia, you look terrible."

Another wan smile. "Yes, I expect so. She really upset me. You see, all I've been getting since I arrived at the palace is obstruction, and my temper seems shorter than it used to be... before. Perhaps it's the different setting and all these strange people, I seem to get irritated a lot easier than I used to."

Jenet was finally able to crouch and clean up her mistress's face, and the four finally left the changing room. When they looked in the office it was empty so they started walking back to Garia's suite.

"Feeling better now?"

"Yes, thank you, Merizel. I still feel a bit shaken up but that's to be expected. Once I have some dinner and wine inside me I expect I'll have settled down again."

~o~O~o~

"I'm still not quite right, Jenet."

Jenet was undressing her mistress before bed. "Oh? You're not still upset by that business with Rosilda, Mistress?"

"I don't know. Something feels off, but I don't know exactly what. I'm beginning to wonder if I've eaten something that disagrees with me. It was bound to happen sometime." Garia explained to Jenet, "At home there are some fruits and vegetables which can upset certain people if they eat them. I don't recall anything there that affected me that much, but since I have a different body here and all the food's different as well, it's always possible. I can't really put my finger on anything, but it might explain why I've felt... uncomfortable today."

"It's always good to take note of what your body tells you, Mistress. Perhaps it would be well to consult Mistress Margra tomorrow."

"That's a good idea, Jenet. If anybody knows what's wrong with me, she will."

Garia's meteoric progress through Palarandi society comes to an abrupt halt as her body receives the Call of Kalikan. As she is completely overwhelmed by the experience the women of the palace gather to offer support and assistance.

Somewhere Else Entirely

by Penny Lane

22 - Definitely Female

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

---

Gary liked roller-coasters. He hadn't had much experience of them, true, since the only time he'd ever encountered one was on vacation at the coast, but if anyone suggested a ride to him he never said no. Now, as the car slowly climbed up to the highest point, he gripped the rail in anticipation of what was to come. Over they went... and Gary's stomach suddenly churned at the steeper-than expected drop followed by the abrupt swoop up to the next loop. Over they went again and suddenly it wasn't quite so funny any more.

This isn't like I remember, he thought as the car lurched to the left and spiraled downwards. There were distinct feelings of nausea then, and Gary decided that perhaps this might not have been such a good idea after all. He turned to say something to the idiot next to him, who must have convinced him to come on this thing, and discovered that he was no longer in the car but flying.

Oh, crap. Hey, what happened to the ground? More to the point, what happened to the funfair? What am I doing up here? I'm flying! Wait, no I'm not... I'm falling... oh, crap.

He stuck his arms out to try and get some control. A part of him must have realized that he was dreaming, since nothing he did seemed particularly unusual, but another part of him definitely didn't want to hit the ground right now. He started flapping his arms, but they wouldn't move properly. It was as though he was tangled up in something. Desperation set in as he tried to free his arms before the ground came up and...

Uuuuh!

Garia came awake and immediately winced as a splitting pain lanced through her skull. One of her arms was tangled up in the sheet and, still half-asleep, she tried to pull it free. Through slitted eyes she saw that the room was in semi-darkness, the sun must have risen less than an hour ago and the day hadn't really gotten started in the palace yet. The nausea returned and she realized that it must have been the stomach pains that had triggered off the strange dream or memory. She moved a hand down under the rumpled sheet to rub her abdomen and got a shock when she discovered sticky wetness.

Ew! What have I done... God does my head hurt. She pulled her hand back rapidly and balked at the strong smell which came with it. What the..! Fighting the nausea and with a spinning head, she pulled back the sheet to see what had happened and wished that she had left well alone. Both her nightdress and the sheets were smeared with blood. It proved too much for her and she made a dive for the edge of the bed as her stomach heaved, and she vomited onto the carpet at the side of the bed. This sent off fresh waves of nausea and her muscles kept spasming until nothing was left to come out at all.

During this process she hadn't been silent, her lungs emptying noisily every time her diaphragm contracted, and the sound woke her maid up. Jenet opened the door of her closet and emerged wearing her night-dress wondering just what all the racket was. A single glance at the bed told her all she needed to know and she moved rapidly around the bed to her mistress's side, stopping the moment she saw the pool of vomit.

"Mistress, I'm here, I'll call for help."

She went immediately into the bathroom and gave the pull-rope three tugs before returning to the bedroom. There, she went to the three ropes beside the fireplace and gave the green rope two tugs before going back to Garia's side.

"Mistress, can you hear me? We need to get you out of bed, the other side will be better if you can manage it."

She leaned right over the bed and touched Garia's body. Garia rolled over, holding her stomach with a bloodied hand and showing Jenet a face wet with tears. The vomiting had started her crying, but right now she just didn't care. She looked up at Jenet, her face crumpled with distress.

"What's happened to me? I -"

A fresh spasm cut her off and made her double up but nothing else occurred.

"Come with me, Mistress, we need to get you into the bathroom and clean you up."

Garia winced as Jenet's voice hammered through the pain in her head. "Unh." But she held out her hand - her clean hand - and let Jenet pull her upper body upright.

"Swing your legs, Mistress."

Garia did as she was told, shying away from the mess on the front of her nightdress.

"Don't worry about that, Mistress, we can clean all that up. The main thing is to get you into the bath."

At that moment the door from the corridor opened and Kenila came in, instantly understanding the situation at a glance.

"I'll wash the Mistress," Jenet said to her, "You deal with the bedding. Oh, and she's been sick round the other side."

Kenila nodded and then added, "I'll inform the Queen."

Jenet managed to support a now-shivering Garia into the bathroom where the sunken bath had about a foot of water in it, the steam rising and making the room warmer.

"Lift your arms, Mistress."

Jenet pulled off the nightdress and dropped it in a heap beside the door before helping Garia into the warm water. Garia looked up at her with a question.

"Just you this time, Mistress. We'll clean the mess off you first and then fill the bath right up as normal. Here, you'll need this and this."

Jenet handed her a washcloth and a small sponge which had been squeezed through a hole in a wooden handle. Garia cautiously bent over and splashed some water over her face first before crouching down and cleaning herself up as best as she could.

"What do I do with - ?" She asked hazily, holding up the sponge-on-a-stick.

"Between your legs, Mistress."

It was at that moment that enough of Garia's intellect crystallized sufficiently to enable her to figure out what had happened to her. Her stomach heaved again, but there was nothing left.

Oh, no. No, God, No! How could I have been so stupid to have forgotten this? Oh, God, am I going to have to put up with this every month?

The tears started again, tears of distress at the nature of the life she had been unwillingly given, tears of loss of the freedom that Gary had once enjoyed, tears of anger at the unfairness of it all. Jenet could do little but crouch at the side of the bath and offer encouragement and support.

Eventually Garia stood shakily in the shallow water and scrubbed away the remaining red marks. When Jenet was satisfied, she pulled a lever and the water began draining away. She stood and offered Garia a towel.

"Best you climb out, Mistress, while the bath is refilled. Sometimes the first gush of water is too hot."

Garia climbed out and Jenet gave the rope a single tug. They stood watching as the bath began to fill again, then Jenet went into the bedroom to see what was happening. Kenila and Varna had stripped the bed and Varna was now around the other side with a bucket attempting to clean the mess on the carpet.

"It won't be the first time someone's been sick on that carpet," a voice to her side said.

"Your Majesty." Jenet curtseyed to the figure in the corner wearing a fluffy robe. "Forgive me, I didn't see you there."

"Don't mind me, Jenet, your Mistress is more important now. Is it bad?"

"It would appear so, Ma'am. From the way she moves her eyes I'd say she has quite a headache."

Terys nodded. "An unpleasant introduction to a woman's world, unfortunately. I think she should stay in her suite today, until she gets used to the sensations. I'll ask the kitchen to send a light breakfast up, but a little later on. How far have you got in there?"

"The second bath is being filled now, Ma'am."

Terys nodded. "Good. Don't forget the oils, and I'll ask Margra to call by later this morning."

"As you wish, Ma'am."

Jenet curtseyed again and returned to the bathroom, where there was now a significant amount of water in the bath. She went to a shelf and selected a small vial from which she let a few drops fall into the water. Beside her, Garia let out a small sigh of relief as the aroma began to fill the room. She staggered over to Jenet and put her wet arm around the maid's waist, resting her head on the other's shoulder.

"Thank you, Jenet," she said huskily. "I made a mess out there, didn't I?"

"Don't worry about the mess, Mistress," Jenet said, "that can all be cleared away. The important thing is to clean you up and make you feel more comfortable. This time, I'll get in with you and we can wash each other as normal."

"If you're sure?"

"Yes, Mistress, we do this all the time."

Of course. It came to Garia that every woman in the palace - in the world, even! - had to go through this ordeal and they would all be familiar with it. She dropped her towel and climbed in, letting the warm water ease her cramped muscles and the scented oil relax her breathing. Jenet took off her own nightdress and climbed in and the two attempted to wash one another.

"You're struggling, Mistress. Why don't you just sit there and I'll wash myself this once. Once we're out again and dry, I'll fetch some items you'll need to wear today under your clothes."

"Oh. Do I get to do this every month?"

"I couldn't say, Mistress. Everyone's experience is different. The Queen is outside, I'll leave her to explain what you need to know."

When they were dry Jenet went to the dressing room and returned with some cloth items. A folded pad of fluffy cloth like their robes was held in place by a garment that looked like an overgrown bikini bottom, tied high on either hip. They left the bathroom together to find Terys waiting. Garia promptly walked over to her and wrapped her arms around the Queen's middle, resting her head on her bosom. Terys gently held the young woman against her.

"That was a little sudden, wasn't it, dear?" she said quietly. "We've all been amiss, if there were any signs we didn't spot them, and you never said anything! Never mind, I don't know what you had planned for today but I think you'd better rest completely until you're over the worst of it. I'm sure Keren can find something else to entertain himself with today. You should have complete rest, but I'll let you sit in your sitting-room if you wish. You probably don't feel like food just now but I'll ask the kitchen to send up something later. It seems I have some explaining to do, don't I?"

"Yes, Your Majesty," Garia replied without moving her head.

"Come along, then, dear. We'd better go into your sitting room and let the staff clean the bedroom up without distractions."

Taking Garia by the hand, Terys led her through to the next-door sitting-room. They sat down side by side on the settee while Jenet stood waiting against the wall.

"It's a little early for all of us," Terys said. Garia noticed that it must still be well before breakfast, and she'd gotten Jenet out of bed as well, so probably nobody had eaten anything yet. "Do you think you can manage some pel?"

Her stomach twisted at the mention of food and drink, but she nodded. "Yes. Maybe, Ma'am."

Terys looked up at Jenet, who came forward a step or two and then hesitated.

"I'll manage her for now, Jenet," Terys said. "Why don't you go and see if you can find some more people to help, that way you'll all be able to fit some breakfast in at some point."

"Yes, Ma'am," Jenet said, curtseying before heading out into the corridor.

Terys turned to Garia. "What do you feel, my dear? Tell me," she asked softly.

Garia licked lips dried by retching. "Ma'am, there's an ax been buried in my head, and it feels like someone's put a metal hook up my, my -"

"Vagina?"

"...vagina, and is trying to pull my insides out. Besides which, I just feel generally miserable."

"You poor child," Terys said. "Every woman's experience is different, and I'm very sorry that you had to have a bad one for your first. I hope we can make your time a little easier, Margra has some remedies which work well in situations like yours."

"How long?" Garia asked, her voice hollow. "How many -"

"It varies, my dear. It could be four days, it could be more, it could be less."

"Four days?" Tears began to flow again. "Oh, God, no, I can't last four days like this!"

Garia leaned against Terys and the Queen held her close, knowing what a sudden shock the young woman had received. It would have been bad enough if she had been born to it, but this way must have been much worse. Terys decided not to say too much more at the moment, since almost anything she said might have the wrong effect on her charge, it would be better to just support her, get her used to her condition, and then rationality might later return.

"There, there. Just lay where you are, we'll take good care of you."

Garia never knew how long she half-sat, half-lay, wrapped in the Queen's arms. The dawn brightened into day and the sounds of life in the palace increased as people began their usual tasks. Someone came into the room - Garia didn't see who it was - and began to draw the drapes back, but Terys momentarily raised a hand to stop them. It wouldn't do to let too much light in at the moment, with Garia's head feeling as fragile as it was.

The clink of cups roused Garia as Jenet put the tray down on the table.

"Do you think you could manage a sip of pel, dear?" Terys asked her softly.

Garia managed a smile and pulled away from the Queen so that Terys could drink from her own cup more easily. "Pour it, please, Jenet. I'll just have to try it and see."

The aroma perked her up a little, and she reached forward for the cup. Jenet hastily lifted it and brought it to her. She took a small sip, and it tasted wonderful. A larger sip and her stomach began to rebel, so she swiftly handed the cup back.

"Uh, I'm not sure." She winced as the spike in her head jabbed again. "I think I can probably drink a little more, but it might be a good idea to have a bucket nearby."

"Is the smell upsetting you, dear?"

"No, not at all, Ma'am, it's just when it hits my stomach."

"I understand. Varna? If you can find a bucket, please. It will save you cleaning up the floor in here as well."

"Yes, Ma'am."

Garia realized that both Kenila and Varna had been standing behind the Queen, which meant that her bedroom must have been cleaned up while she was dozing. Varna disappeared and reappeared shortly afterwards carrying a bucket, that is, half a small keg with a rope handle. She placed it by the side of the settee and Garia again reached for her pel. This time, she took it slowly but managed to keep it all down, despite all the activity happening in her stomach.

"That's what seems to happen, dear," Terys told her. "When your stomach feels funny it seems that you can still eat despite the pain. Which is just as well, you need to keep your appetite up at times like this."

"It's not the pain, Ma'am, although that's bad enough. It's the nausea." Garia gently massaged her belly.

"I know, dear. Fortunately, that doesn't happen very often, and Margra has remedies which will help you for that. Did the pel help?"

Garia considered. "Yes, Ma'am, I think it did. I don't feel quite so bad now. I've still got this bad headache, though, and the metal hook -"

"Yes, it would, dear. The downwards feeling inside is your body trying to expel the... blood."

Garia raised her eyes to the Queen. "Is this what it feels like when you give birth?"

Terys pursed her lips. "That's a difficult question to answer, Garia. Not really, is one answer, since your womb is so much larger, so all the sensations are different. But, I imagine that the body is trying to do something similar." She gave Garia an encouraging smile. "Every pregnancy and every birth is different, just as every child is different. Some are hard, some are easy, some are painful, others are not. We talked about childbirth the other day, didn't we?"

"Yes, Ma'am. It's just that, I'd never imagined I'd have these feelings inside my own body, and that's why it's all so unexpected." Her face fell. "I never expected it to hurt quite so much, either."

"Do you know what happens inside a woman, Garia? Do they teach boys about such things on Earth?"

Garia attempted to nod, but the pain was too great. "Sort of, Ma'am. I know the general principles and such, and I could even draw you a diagram, I expect, but as a rule boys tended to keep well out of the way when anything icky like that happened to a girl."

"I'm not surprised. And the girls?"

"Oh, they have separate bathrooms - uh, toilets - to the boys, so we don't really get involved that much. I know they do have arrangements that are a lot less bulky than what I'm wearing now, I can tell you that, Ma'am." Terys looked interested, so Garia quickly added, "Uh, I don't think I want to discuss such things right now, Ma'am. Maybe after I've finished."

Hooray! At least that's one good thing about this whole episode, and that's that I know it has to come to an end. Until the next time, that is.

Kenila came in and bobbed a curtsey. To Terys's query she replied, "Ma'am, do you wish to have breakfast now? Will you be eating it in here with Mistress Garia?"

Terys looked at Garia. "What do you think, dear? Could you manage some food now, or will you wait till later? I can go back to my own sitting-room if you think the smell will upset you."

Garia thought. "I think I might be hungry, Ma'am. Perhaps we can both eat in here."

Kenila left to organize the food, and as she went out of the door Keren came in.

"Mother, Garia! What's happened? Are you all right?"

"Kalikan called, dear."

Keren's progress across the floor came to an abrupt halt and and a look of distaste started to form, but he caught himself in time. He smoothed the expression on his face and carried on until he reached Garia's side.

"Are you all right?" he asked her quietly, squatting beside her.

"Better now, thank you, Keren. I have a splitting headache and it's not too good down there." She patted her abdomen gently. "I made a fearful mess in the bedroom but it's all been cleaned up by now."

"Did you not recognize the symptoms? Oh, no, how could you? It's probably never happened to you before, has it?"

"I don't think so, Keren," Terys told him. "She's only been in our world for what, thirteen days? Fourteen? How could she possibly know what to expect?"

"I don't know, Mother. I assume," he said to Garia, "that more or less the same thing happens here as on Earth?"

"Probably." Garia shrugged, which produced another sharp pain causing a wince. "I'm hardly an expert on such things, and I never imagined I would ever need to become one. Ask me in a couple weeks, will you? I might even be able to give you a sensible answer." Keren looked at her curiously. Through gritted teeth she replied, "Someone left this ax buried in my head. It's not helping when I have to open my eyes, or move anything, or think."

"Oh, my apologies, Garia! I should leave and let you get some rest. I'll go downstairs and get breakfast and I can answer any questions people might have about your absence. I'll come back later and see how you are."

Terys watched Keren leave. "He's a nice, well-brought up boy, isn't he? I think he'll make a good King when the time comes. I'm glad that you two get on together, and that he understands a lot of what you're telling us."

"He's obviously learned from his parents," Garia said.

Yes, well, looks like I'm going to be stuck here with him, doesn't it? I wonder if I'll become the Royal Questor? I bet there aren't any female Questors yet. Another mountain to climb.

Eventually Kenila and Jenet turned up with trays of food, which they laid in front of the Queen and Garia. Although Garia was still nauseous the smells didn't repel her as she had feared they would, which was just as well as she was beginning to feel quite hungry. Nevertheless she picked quite carefully through what was on offer, eating slowly and afraid that she'd go too far and have to use the bucket.

As the maids cleared away after breakfast the door opened and Merizel came into the room.

"Garia! Uh, Your Majesty."

Abruptly realizing that Garia wasn't alone, Merizel curtseyed before approaching. Terys beckoned to her.

"Come forward, dear, sit down."

"Uh, Garia, what's happened? I heard in the dining room that you had been taken ill."

"Kalikan called to her, my dear," Terys told her. "It was somewhat unexpected, and her reaction seems to be quite bad. She has a severe headache and cramps, but she's just managed to eat some breakfast, which is very good. Come and sit, dear."

"Kalikan called?" Merizel asked in confusion as she sat facing them. She addressed Garia, "But, surely, you must know what day it happens? Is there something about coming from the other world that's made you forget?"

"It's never happened before to me," Garia explained. "I've been on Anmar barely two weeks, and before that my old body was a boy's, remember."

"But..." Merizel's brow furrowed. She opened her mouth twice to say something, then just gave up and looked unhappily at Garia.

"I've been a girl about thirteen days, as near as I can remember," Garia said. "Before that, I was someone else, with a completely different kind of body. I'm beginning to wonder if this body actually existed for very long before I woke up here."

"I still don't... You mean, you've never been called by Kalikan before? Ever? Then you wouldn't... Oh, you poor thing."

"I didn't recognize the signs," Garia said. "Boys just don't get those kind of sensations in their bodies." She tried to give a smile to Merizel, but wasn't sure it worked properly. "Boys get other kinds of sensations, but that's what's supposed to happen, after all."

Merizel was still trying to work out how someone with the body of a fully-developed fifteen-year-old woman somehow hadn't had any kind of menstruation before. The concept of a grown female body just appearing from nowhere and then having a boy's mind stuffed into it was still too much for her to grasp.

"As you say, Garia." Merizel thought. "Does that mean that all your plans for the next few days will have to be changed? I can't imagine you'll be able to go wrestling with the Prince until you're well again."

"No, not likely! I didn't really have many plans, Merizel. But the Queen says that I should rest completely today, and I'll have to see how I feel in the coming days. I've no idea how much I'll be able to do while I'm like this." Garia waved her hand over her robe-clad body. "I've no experience of such matters, you see."

"Oh. Yes, of course you should rest today. Is today the first day, then?"

Terys answered for Garia. "In view of what happened, I would think that we should probably count yesterday as the first day, my dear. The circumstances are unusual, of course, but it seems it started coming out while she was sleeping last night."

"Oh," Merizel said again. "That means, you have about another three days to go after today, and then you should be back to normal." She grimaced. "The first two days are unpleasant and you'll want to do as little as possible but you should be able to walk around a little. Then it gets less and you can move around a little easier."

The next person to appear was Margra, arriving with her basket of remedies.

"Your Majesty, Mistress Garia."

Margra examined Garia closely, asking for the drapes to be pulled so that she could get a clear look at her face and eyes, and requesting a full, detailed description of events. She nodded and pulled a bottle and a stubby jar out of her basket and put them on the table. From their expressions, all the women in the room were familiar with them.

"This one will reduce your headache, Mistress, and this one will ease your nausea. Jenet will know when you should take some, but I would recommend that you have a spoonful of each now so that I can judge the result. Very occasionally, as with all medicine, something unusual may happen."

"As you wish, Mistress Margra."

"How much do you know about the Call of Kalikan, Mistress?"

Garia shrugged, which wasn't her brightest idea. "On Earth we call it the 'monthly period' or just 'period'," she replied. "I've been taught the basics in biology so I know more or less what happens, but it was something that happened to other people so I didn't pay attention the way the girls did."

Margra nodded. "As anyone might expect, Mistress. Do you know what is actually happening? Inside the body, I mean. Here we know that it is related to the way a woman becomes pregnant, but we know little more than that."

"I do, Mistress Margra, and when this is all over I'll come and tell you what I know."

"Jenet?" Terys commanded. "A spoon for your Mistress, if you will."

The clear liquid from the bottle tasted like something similar to mint, but Garia couldn't remember what. There was an unpleasant bitter aftertaste, though. She looked askance as Margra prised the cork out of the jar, as the contents resembled mashed spinach.

"This is the ground-up leaves of a common herb, Mistress," Margra explained. "It doesn't taste as bad as it looks, and it will take away the bitterness of what you have just drunk."

She dug out a spoonful and gave it to Garia. Fortunately the taste was fairly bland so she managed to keep it down. After a short while she noticed that her headache was reducing and the twisting sensation in her stomach had almost vanished, though the downwards-pulling sensation still remained.

"There, dear," Terys said. "You look better already. Lean back against the settee and relax. Margra, thank you for coming so promptly."

"It is an unusual situation, Ma'am. Naturally, I have more questions, but I'd better leave the Mistress in peace for the rest of today."

"Of course. We'll call you if there is further need."

Margra departed and Garia tried to make herself comfortable. This proved difficult, as she didn't want to put any pressure on down there despite the padding.

"It's not easy to get comfortable, is it, dear? I often find that judicious use of cushions can help at the worst times, but fortunately this part of what happens should only last a day or two. Although you probably won't like the idea, it will be best if you stay sitting upright or standing to help... things happen as they should."

Garia eyed the Queen with skepticism. This whole day had turned into a complete nightmare, and the worst part was she hadn't been expecting any of it. At least she'd known she had had to face Morlan and could prepare mentally for it. Her very first period had just come out of the blue and the things her body was doing were so alien she was finding it difficult to cope. As much as anything it was the complete lack of control over her body that she was finding difficulty in accepting. This... phenomenon was going to happen to her at regular intervals whether she wanted it to or not, whether she had other plans or not.

"As you say, Ma'am. I suppose I'll learn to adjust in time."

"You will, dear. And we'll all be here to help you do so. It never occurred to me just how frightening this must have been for you, so unexpected."

Garia gave Terys a wan smile. "I've been a little too busy to be frightened, Ma'am. Annoyed, yes, disgusted, yes, frightened, not really."

The door opened and Keren entered, giving her a smile that immediately raised her spirits.

"Is it all right to come in, Mother? I'm not interrupting a special womens' gathering, am I?"

"No, that's fine, dear."

"I just wanted to tell Garia that I've spoken to Captain Bleskin and explained the situation. He's decided that it might be a good opportunity to clear out that other hall, so instead of the normal field drill today he's got everyone - and me - pulling everything out of that room into the big hall where we'll go through it all today and tomorrow. " He grinned at Garia. "You're making us clean the palace up, aren't you? First there's Yolda's domain, and now the guard. What do you think will be next? The tax office, or the judiciary?"

Garia returned him a smile which was only partly forced. "I'm leaving them till later," she told him. "Don't forget, I have the Questors and the Guilds on the go as well."

"Aye, of course!" He looked pensive. "Don't destroy the whole kingdom, will you. I'd like to have something left to inherit."

"Now, Keren," Terys said severely, "don't talk that way! Your father will be reigning for a good many years to come. No sense in asking for trouble."

Keren grinned. "Don't worry, Mother! I'm only trying to cheer Garia up. I really don't expect to inherit the throne till I'm old and gray. Well, I shan't outstay my welcome. I'll be off now to help the men shift some worn-out saddles and old bits of armor about." He gave her a wave and jauntily strode out of the door again.

"Now, dear," Terys said to Garia, "I would like you to just relax, but I know that someone your age can get bored fairly quickly. I know I used to at your age! So we'll have to keep you entertained, Merizel and myself, but I don't want to make things difficult for you when you have such a headache. If you think it's getting too much, you will tell us, won't you?"

"Yes, Ma'am. Uh, my headache seems to have gone down a little, that stuff Mistress Margra gave me certainly works, doesn't it?"

Terys gave a rueful smile. "Oh, yes, dear. We've all had to resort to it at one time or another, fortunately only on rare occasions in my case. But perhaps you'd not like to be reminded of such things just at the moment."

Fat chance of that. With my backside wrapped in a diaper that makes it all look even larger, how can I possibly forget?

"Merizel," Terys said, "Why don't you tell us some more about yourself? Both Garia and myself only know what little you told us the other day, and I'm sure we'd both be interested in what you did before you came to the palace."

So Merizel settled herself and began, with some trepidation, telling Terys and Garia about the life of the youngest daughter of a rural Baron in Palarandi society. It seemed that although her father ran a reasonably efficient estate there was little surplus money to spend on surplus offspring. This meant that, like a number of younger children of landowners throughout the Valley, she was farmed out to relatives around the area, spending a few months at each before moving on, the idea being to spread the cost around while giving her wider exposure to possible suitors.

Palarand the city was just the latest stop on her journey and she had of course been presented at court on arrival. Other than that her time had been spent helping her hosts by looking after younger children, making tapestries or preparing for dances and other evening amusements. Until Merizel had arrived in Palarand she had not been exposed to the hustle and bustle of city life, which she found bewildering. Having now moved to the palace she confessed to struggling to cope, despite the more structured environment.

"I don't think you need worry, dear," Terys told her, "you'll be much better off in here than you would be out in the city. In the palace there are many customs which make the running so much easier than what happens outside. Although," she gave a glance at Garia, "our new treasure here seems to be doing her best to change everything she goes near! Things will settle down again, trust me, and then you'll really begin to enjoy yourself."

"Thank you, Ma'am, I already am enjoying my time here," Merizel replied. "It's just a lot to take in all at once."

"Which is just what Garia has had to do. Her task has been so much harder than yours, although there are some similarities, which is why I'd hoped you would get on together."

The morning continued, and more pel was taken. Garia noticed a familiar sensation amongst the new ones in her stomach.

"Uh, Ma'am? I have to pay a visit, I think, if you'll excuse me."

"Of course, dear. Jenet, if you please."

Jenet helped Garia to her feet and she took a couple steps towards the bedroom door. Big mistake. Gravity and movement assisted the biological process and she felt... something... oozing out between her legs.

Eew. Oh, this is ridiculous!

The undercurrent of resentment flared into anger and then flashed into hot fury. Her complete inability to exert any kind of control over this part of her body was too much to bear.

"This is stupid, stupid!" Her voice raised as she let fly. "I don't want this stupid little body with these stupid short arms and stupid short legs and these stupid squidgy things on my chest! I don't want to be here in this crazy world with crazy animals and crazy people. I want to go home!" Tears of frustration came, flowing freely. "I don't want to be here, I want to wake up back in Kansas. I want to be home with my Mom and Dad!"

Face red, she stumped awkwardly into the bedroom, heedless of the mess slowly trickling down one leg , leaving six stunned women behind her. Not wanting to sit or lie on the bed, she just walked up to it and let her upper body flump face-down onto the freshly made sheets, where she remained, sobbing loudly.

Jenet followed quickly, to try and comfort her mistress. Terys spoke to Merizel before they and the other maids followed.

"One of us must stay with her at all times today, Merizel. An unprecedented thing has happened to that person, and I wonder if she might lose her mind should we fail her. I should have considered the conflict inside her before now, we must not lose her, we need her too much."

"I-I will do my best, Ma'am."

It was clear to Terys that, unlike herself, Merizel hadn't been able to see the implications of Garia's situation. However, one had to use the materials available, and so she led the way into the bedroom. Jenet was trying console Garia without apparent success, and she stood as Terys approached.

"My dear," Terys addressed Garia, "are you five years old?"

Garia raised her body at the implied rebuke and showed a sullen face to the Queen. Terys pursed her lips.

"I realize that this is a new experience for you, my dear, but don't you think you're overdoing it a little?"

Garia's face reddened with shame and she buried it in the bedding again.

"Jenet, help her up, please. She wanted to go to the toilet, she still needs to, and then she'll need cleaning up again. Kenila, go and pull the bath-rope, if you please."

With a little resistance Jenet helped Garia to get up and she stood facing the Queen. She wiped her face with the back of her hands. She looked forlornly at Terys.

"I'm sorry, Ma'am, I shouldn't have done that."

"It's perfectly understandable, my dear." Terys hugged her gently. "You're going through a particularly trying time at the moment and part of it is that you will be feeling more emotional. I'm sorry we don't know how to send you home or we would do so. We can't return you to your parents, but Robanar and I will do all that we can in their place for you. Now, let Jenet help you through what you must do and we'll be waiting for you when you're clean again."

"Yes, Ma'am," said a thoroughly miserable Garia.

Jenet led Garia into the toilet where they cleaned off most of the mess before they moved on to the bathroom. Garia now knew how to clean herself in the shallow water, and the earlier medication meant that movement wasn't such an ordeal for her this time. Finally feeling clean, again, Jenet gave her a a new bikini bottom and showed her how to adjust it so as to prevent leaks.

The whole curious part of this episode, to Garia's way of thinking, was the complete lack of embarrassment she felt discussing intimate body parts with another woman, someone who wasn't her Mom. Not that her Mom had seen much of Gary's naked body for a number of years, but still... Jenet fetched her a fresh fluffy robe, saying that it would do for now but Garia would need something lighter as it warmed up after lunch.

"There you are! Feeling better now?"

Terys and Merizel looked up from their discussion in the sitting room as Garia reappeared.

"Yes, Your Majesty," Garia said. "Once again, I'm sorry for making a scene earlier."

"Come and sit down, dear. Don't worry about the scene, we women can get quite emotional when Kalikan calls. In fact," Terys added conspiratorially, "that was quite mild compared to some of the outbursts I've heard talked about. Fortunately, neither myself or my two daughters had to suffer like that but I have heard of people who get quite violent, poor things. We're lucky that we have Mistress Margra and her potions here in the palace to take away the worst of the effects. How are you feeling now?"

Garia carefully lowered herself into a chair.

"Better now, Ma'am. It's going to take some time, but it's not like I have a choice, do I?"

"I don't understand," Merizel said. "What kind of choice are you talking about?"

Garia looked at the blank expression on Merizel's face, realizing the gulf she still had to bridge before she accepted womanhood completely. To Merizel, there was no choice involved, because that was simply what a woman's body did. Just as well ask her if she resented having to breathe!

"Never mind, Merizel. You have to remember that I don't have your background. Perhaps I'll try and explain another time."

The three talked about minor matters until it was time for lunch. Between them the four maids brought the food up from the kitchens and arrayed it on the largest table. Before allowing Garia to get started, however, both Terys and Jenet insisted that she take some more of the medications, since they would work better on an empty stomach rather than on top of a full one. Garia wasn't at all certain that she would have a full stomach for very long, since she was still afraid she was going to throw most of lunch up afterwards, but finally agreed to take the medicine.

After lunch Jenet changed Garia into a very light gown, a loose, thin white dress of the local equivalent of cotton, which was just gathered under her breasts to take pressure off her sensitive middle. Thus attired she joined the others for their usual afternoon nap on the balcony. Today, although it was as hot as usual, there were a few wisps of high cloud in the sky, and Garia wondered whether this was the first sign of the approaching 'rains'.

When she woke up it was necessary to make another visit to the toilet and bathroom. The 'diaper' was all sticky from her rest on the balcony but overall she had managed to avoid making the mess she had generated that morning. By the time she emerged from the bedroom, dressed this time in yet another loose gown, Keren was waiting with the others in her sitting room.

"You're looking better than ever, Garia," he smiled at her. "I know it's awkward for you right now but to me it looks like you're handling everything as if you've done it all your life. "

"Thank you, Keren," she replied. For reasons she couldn't determine his encouragement seemed very important to her right now. "Trust me, it's still a struggle right now." She changed the subject. "You were clearing out that hall this morning, how far did you get?"

He pulled a face. "There was an incredible amount of junk in there, more than we expected. We've managed to pull most of it out into the big room but all that's happened is that we've covered the floor of that room up as well now. Bleskin wasn't at all pleased. We all got very hot and dusty shifting it all, even though there was almost the entire Quadrant doing it. It's too hot to continue now, so it's been left till tomorrow morning. I should imagine that by the time you're active again we'll have gotten rid of the rubbish, sent the re-usable bits off to the armorers and stacked the rest back up out of the way." A smile of anticipation came. "Then we can get back to work again."

By the time you're active again. Keren had assumed that what was happening to Garia was a normal, natural event, which of course it was. Garia's perception of reality took another shift as she realized that today's events were just part of the pattern of existence for any woman which both men and women made appropriate allowances for.

"I hope you're right," she told him, "though at the moment, being active is the last thing on my mind."

"And rightly so," he told her, "you need to be properly rested up for a day or two. I've seen what my sisters were like and I know it wasn't fun for them at times." Another smile. "Still, physical activity is one thing, your headache seems better, so with mother's permission I can help keep you entertained in other ways if you like. "

"As you wish, Keren," Terys told him, "although you'll have to be careful not to tax her too much, she still somewhat fragile."

"I understand, mother. I've been telling her a little about Palarand and the surrounding lands and I think she needs to know some more about what's going on around and about, especially with the news from up-river." Everyone knew what he referred to. "If there is any help she could offer us, she needs to understand the situation. I think that between Lady Merizel and myself we ought to be able to answer most questions she might have."

"Me, Your Highness?" Merizel asked, astonished. "I'm just a country girl at heart, I know very little."

"...And I'm a Prince who's spent his whole life living in this palace," he replied. "On the whole, I think you have a better idea of the experiences of Palarand life than ever I'll have. Between us, we should be able to cover most of what Garia needs to know."

Garia couldn't let that go. "Actually, that's not quite right, Keren. You're both of the nobility. There's an entire chunk of the population you've ignored and that's the commoners, or whatever you call them here."

Keren bowed his head in acknowledgment. "I am corrected, Mistress Garia. It seems my own view of the world is more limited than even I recognized." He smiled. "Perhaps we ought to go and drag someone off the street to answer your questions, then? But my point was that Merizel and I can give you the overall picture, later on you can get more detail where you feel that's necessary."

The afternoon passed in conversation which Terys insisted they kept light. Afternoon pel and pastries were taken and Garia eventually had to pay another visit to the toilet and bathroom. When she emerged another visitor waited for her in the sitting room.

"Mistress Garia." The woman curtseyed. "I have made a mock-up of the special garment you requested."

"Oh, yes, of course. I'm sorry, I don't remember your name."

"Rosilda, Mistress. The Queen has explained that Kalikan has called on you, perhaps I should return another day?"

Garia thought. More delay meant longer before the tunics were made. She was only wearing the light dress, could she manage?

"I'd rather attempt a fitting if I may. Ma'am?" She turned to Terys. "Do you think I should?"

"If you feel able, dear. It's only going on her top half, isn't it?" she asked Rosilda.

"Aye, Ma'am. That should make it easier to fit than a normal gown would."

"Then we will retire to the bedroom to fit it," Terys decided. "Keren, I want you to stay here with Merizel, please."

"Yes, Mother."

Terys led the way into the bedroom where Jenet helped Garia take her light dress off. The mock-up was made of the same material and slipped easily over her head. She thought that it was rather tent-like till her attention was drawn to the sides. A triangular piece of material was set into each side seam from the armpit down giving room to pull it on and at the same time allowing the leg movement she had asked for. Each piece was closed by cloth ties at either side of the waist. When closed up if fitted well to her figure without being too snug, just right for what she intended. Terys looked at it curiously.

"Interesting. Is this a garment from Earth, then?"

"No, Ma'am. I don't think there's anything anywhere on Earth exactly like this, but then on Earth I wouldn't need to wear something like this - even if I was a girl there. Mistress Rosilda, this is exactly what I was thinking of, and thank you for turning it into fabric so quickly."

Rosilda curtseyed. "Thank you, Mistress, I'm glad to be of service."

"So, I'm not going to be needing the real thing for some days now. That should give you enough time to make me one out of the real cloth, then."

"As I understand, Mistress. It won't be difficult to make, it's not a complicated shape, after all. Your tunic will be waiting for you whenever you are ready for it."

~o~O~o~

It was evening, and Garia was still in her sitting room, accompanied by the women who had been with her all day. Keren had been summoned by Robanar after dinner but Garia discovered that she was comfortable with an entirely female company.

"Your Majesty," she addressed the Queen. "I have been doing a lot of thinking today."

"Yes, dear. You've had an unexpected experience, so you've had a lot to think about."

"Yes, Ma'am. It's like this. Up till now I've accepted that I have a different body than I had before, but I don't think I really understood what that meant. Uh, I understood it was a different shape and size and there were different soft bits, so to speak, but I don't think I fully understood what being a woman really meant. So I've just carried on as I would have if my boy's body had come here. After all, all the clothing and customs are completely different than back home, so having a different body shape didn't make that much of an impression. But today has really brought home to me just how different a woman's life is than a man's. I begin to understand why some things are the way they are much better now."

"You are talking about something most of us can barely imagine, dear. After all, no-one before has started out as a man and suddenly become a woman. We only have our own experiences to judge ourselves and others by, and no woman has the experiences of a man, or at least not until you came to Anmar."

"Ma'am, that may not be entirely true. On Earth, there are men who are women inside, or who wish to become women for various reasons." Garia shrugged. "Not me, certainly, but I have heard of such people. There may be such people here on Anmar. But the main point I wanted to make is that you've all supported me today, and I want to thank you for that. If I'd been a man, I don't think I would have gotten such support. Men don't do things that way, at least not to other men. I'm going to have to learn that the support is there, and to look at men and women in a different way than I did before. It's going to take me some time, because I have experiences and habits from Earth that I'll need to shake off, but I'm going to try to do proper justice to the body I now have."

"You've made a good start, dear. And you know that any of us will help you whenever you need us to. You're still young, after all, and there are dangers for women that don't trouble men the same way." Terys paused. "Does this mean that you'll give up some of the activities you've started?"

"Oh, no, Ma'am! Whatever happens, I'm still me, and there are projects I've started that I simply must carry through if I can. I understand the nature of obligation, and it would be extremely unfair to Anmar if I didn't pass on the knowledge I have."

"Again, dear, I am impressed by your dedication and determination. You are truly a remarkable person. Perhaps your unique mixture of man and woman makes you what you are."

"I couldn't possibly say, Ma'am. I'll let others be the judge of that."

It was time for them to retire, and Terys gathered Garia for a last hug. The Queen was the center of an island of calm and Garia felt very reassured by her touch.

"Thank you, Ma'am, for all you've done for me today. You've spent your whole day looking after just one person and I'll never forget that."

"It was necessary, dear. Whether you had come to us from Earth or from Plif we would have treated you just the same way because that's who we are. You're part of the family now, so why wouldn't we devote our time to you?"

Garia felt tears welling up again. "Oh, Ma'am, I've been so lucky to find such good people, and I shan't forget your kindness that easily."

"Thank you, my dear." Terys released Garia and turned to Jenet. "Time to ready your mistress for bed, I think. She should have a much calmer night than she did last night. Come, ladies, we must depart."

"Mistress?"

"Coming, Jenet."

The new woman walked carefully towards the bathroom.

After three days of rest Garia is ready to restart her new existence. She discovers more about palace routine before dropping more bombshells at the next meeting of the Council of the Two Worlds.

Somewhere Else Entirely

by Penny Lane

23 - Bells and Black Rock

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

---

It was funny how a single personal event could change one's perception. Garia knew that she was living in the same palace with the same people but somehow everything looked kinda strange now. She knew intellectually that the change was within herself, but the end effect was the same: everything looked like a half-remembered echo of itself. An old service buddy of her grandfather had described the sensation of going back to visit old haunts in Europe.

"All very odd. The whole place was both familiar and strange at the same time. You couldn't rely on your memory because you were afraid you'd make a mistake, but around every corner were sights and sounds you'd known well, back in the day. Most unsettling."

To her surprise it seemed as if the ground had shifted beneath her feet even though she knew she was looking at and experiencing the exact same things as she had before. "They" had become "we" somehow, and "we" had in turn become "they". Garia wasn't entirely sure if she approved of that, part of her mourned the loss of what once had been, but another part looked forward to feeling comfortable in her new skin and there was a certain tension between the two parts. There was also a certain trepidation as she knew she would be venturing into the unknown in a way few had ever done before.

It had been three days since the start of her period and she'd done her best to adapt to the new realities of her body's functions. Today, she was only what Jenet had called "spotting" and her movements were no longer restricted, although attempting any kind of heavy exercise yet would have been a stupid idea. The days following what she thought of as The Bloodbath had been a brutal introduction to the rampage of female hormones, but fortunately Garia had understood what was happening and had made strenuous and conscious efforts to manage the worst excesses. She hadn't entirely succeeded, and she suspected that in the future she wouldn't either, but at least she knew what was happening to her body in a detail no-one else on Anmar did and could therefore make the necessary adjustments.

She had joined the rest of the palace for breakfast for the first time and found everyone very solicitous for her health. Today Terys had decided that she could move about the palace and perform light activities that didn't involve physical effort, a restriction that Garia had no trouble complying with. Breakfast itself was almost normal, Mistress Margra's potions having kept the worst of the hormonal side-effects at bay, although Garia did take care over what she chose to eat. She had been glad to get back to the dining room in order to be able to use a fork again. Although there had been further deliveries not enough were available as yet for them to be used by diners eating in their rooms.

After breakfast Keren, someone now both familiar friend and interesting stranger, had gone off with Captain Bleskin to complete the refurbishment of what was in future to be called the Self Defense Training Room, while the women had retired to the Queen's sitting room for what had become a regular morning talk. Garia had made it clear that once she was able she would be returning to her normal morning's activities but for now the occasionally intimate discussions had helped to bond herself, Merizel and Terys closely together.

Merizel for her part had taken it upon herself to begin her duties in earnest. A meeting of the Council of the Two Worlds which had been planned for two evenings previously had been delayed until the coming night and Merizel had handled the notification of all parties with a skill that even Terys had remarked upon. Garia had spent the lucid periods of the past three days thinking about what she was going to tell them at the meeting, but until the coming evening arrived some of her other experiments would occupy her time.

Yesterday she had finally learned the 'secret' of the bells used around the palace and the city for time-keeping. The Anmar day was divided into twenty equal portions each called a 'bell' and certain codes were rung to mark the passage of time. The whole thing was regulated according to an enormous mechanical clock hidden inside one of the palace towers. It seemed that it had not occurred to anyone that this mechanism could display the time directly by means of a clock-face.

The bells were divided into what she characterized as bings, bangs and bongs. The bings were all military: one bing was a guard movement or a meal break, two was a shift change, three was the alarm for an external threat, four was for an internal threat. Each twentieth of a day was marked by a bong, but curiously these were not always regularly spaced. At dawn, noon, dusk and midnight there was a double bong, at all other times a single one. Since the length of the day varied according to the season this meant that the noon and midnight bongs didn't often occur at a regular bell interval but were rung anyway.

After each interval was announced by a bong a sequence of one or more bangs would indicate which interval was starting or, if there was no preceding bong, the quarter, half and three-quarter of the interval. Everything was re-synchronized at dawn, which was done either by sighting the sun or by reference to the Great Clock if the sky was cloudy, and also at dusk. To Garia the whole system sounded crazy but these people had obviously found it sufficient for their needs.

"So, Garia," Terys asked her, "the device you brought with you which you call a 'watch' is really just the same as the Great Clock, then?"

"In principle, Ma'am. I haven't yet seen the Great Clock, but I guess they do more or less the same thing. I'm finding the system of bells confusing but I expect I'll get used to it."

"And you told us that everyone owned these watches. I find that remarkable."

"Um." Where does one begin? "It would be difficult for all of us to hear bells such as yours for a number of reasons. The first, I suppose, is that it's a lot noisier on Earth than it is here. Another is that, because of the noise, as well as for other reasons, our buildings are made in such a way that the sounds wouldn't come through the walls. Our cities and towns are large enough that some people would be just too far away to hear the bells. If you were out in the country, you wouldn't hear them. Besides which, here you might have a problem if you went to another town some distance away, since the local time might be different than where you started out. Since we have means of talking to people in other places, we need to be able to use the same exact time everywhere. That's why we all wear watches or have small clocks nearby."

"Local time?" Terys frowned. "But time is the same everywhere, surely?"

Garia nodded. "It would appear so, Ma'am. I guess every town marks time from sunrise just like you do here." Terys nodded. Garia continued, "But, consider. The sun takes a whole day to go round Anmar, doesn't it? That means that there must be parts of Anmar where it rises earlier or later. Therefore the local clocks will also be earlier or later. Mostly this won't matter, but when your towns and cities are connected together like those on Earth are, it does matter."

"I believe you, Garia, but I'm finding it difficult to visualize what you say."

Garia grinned. "It's not an easy subject, Ma'am, especially if it's not what you're used to. I could draw you a picture, but you would probably tell me I should wait till the next council session so that everyone can learn at the same time."

Terys smiled. "As you say, dear. But you told me at breakfast you are making an experiment with your watch."

"Yes, Ma'am. It occurred to me that I could find out how long Anmar's day is compared to Earth's, since my watch is adjusted to Earth days. So yesterday I set my watch when the noon bells sounded, and I will check it again today when the noon bells sound again."

"And what will this knowledge tell you?"

"I don't know, Ma'am." Garia shrugged. "I don't think it has any practical use, but it is just knowledge for its own sake. Sometimes that happens, and then maybe in fifty years or so someone else will find a way of making use of that knowledge. That's the way science works."

"And the day on Earth, as I remember you telling us, is divided into twenty-four. How was that number determined, do you know?"

Garia thought. All these questions, which she knew she inevitably would be asked, were making her head ache. I'm only this high-school guy, you know? I'm not exactly a history professor, or a math genius. Half this stuff I'm making up as I go along, and I suspect it's only going to get worse in the future.

"Uh, I think it has to do with the length of our year, strangely," she said finally. Terys raised an eyebrow. "Our year has three hundred sixty-five days, so it's shorter than yours. But in very ancient times, someone saw that it was not far from three hundred sixty which is a very useful number. Three hundred sixty can be divided up in a large number of different ways so the ancients set everything up to reflect that. You know how the sky gradually changes position during the course of a year? Well, that's about one three-sixtieth of the sky, I guess, so they divided up the sky that way. From there it was a simple step to dividing circles into three-sixty. It also means the world turns three-sixty parts - or degrees, we call them - in a day.

"Now, you could divide twenty into three-sixty, to give you portions of a day, but that gives you eighteen degrees for each portion, and eighteen isn't quite such an easy number to handle, so instead they chose twenty-four. So, each portion, which we call an hour, means the Earth turns by fifteen degrees. Or the sun moves fifteen degrees in the sky, which is the same thing. Quite handy if you're navigating the seas, for example."

Garia glanced at Merizel whose eyes were glazed as she tried to follow through the math.

"Sorry, am I going too fast for you, Merizel?"

"Er, just a little, Garia. How did you come to be so comfortable with numbers?"

"Our numbering system is part of the answer," Garia told her, "but the rest is the amount of schooling I've received compared to people here. You're only using a tiny fraction of what your brains are capable of, you know, but if you don't get the right schooling, it won't matter how clever you are, you can't make use of it."

"Yes, I believe I understand. But, please continue what you were saying."

"So, on Earth we have twenty-four hours in a day, and each hour is divided into sixty minutes, and each minute is divided into sixty seconds. A second is about the same length of time as a heartbeat, I guess. Because everything is divided into sixty, which is two by two by three by five, it makes it easy for clock-makers to design wheels for clocks. In practice we don't have twenty-four marked on most of our clocks and watches, but twelve, much the way you repeat the bell codes in the day and night."

"Interesting," Terys mused. "Have you discussed any of this with Master Gerdas or any of the metalsmiths?"

"Oh, no, Ma'am. I'm causing enough upheaval as it is, I don't want to make things any more difficult for anyone. I have mentioned some of what I've just told you to Master Gerdas, but only in relation to astronomical matters."

"I think you are fighting a losing battle, my dear. Like your system of numbers, the logic of what you have just told us is very difficult to ignore, and the fact that it comes from you is a recommendation in itself."

Garia balked. "Ma'am, I'm trying hard not to turn Anmar into a copy of Earth. I really don't want that, and it would be arrogant of me to tell all of you that the way they do things there is better than the way you do things here."

"Yes, dear, but that is one of the reasons we created the Council of the Two Worlds, if you remember, so that we could decide for ourselves what parts of your knowledge to use and what parts to hide. I would rather you explained your concerns to us so that we can appreciate the dangers for ourselves."

"As you wish, Ma'am. "

"Garia," Merizel asked her sometime later, "could you explain your numbers to me again? I feel that I almost grasp how they work, but then I get confused again."

"Yes, dear, an excellent idea," Terys said. "If you sit between us with your slate, you can explain to us both."

The slates were about a foot square and obviously created a lot of chalk dust in use, but that didn't seem to worry anybody. Garia drew the ten symbols and then explained how each digit position in any number related directly to its size. It seemed that Merizel got that, but the combination of unfamiliar symbols and simple arithmetic formulae was what had thrown her. Garia was unprepared for the feeling she got when the 'light bulb' moment finally happened to Merizel. It gave her a warm glow of satisfaction inside, and she realized that this must be how her teachers had felt whenever they had managed to teach a particularly difficult idea to a class.

"That's amazing, Garia! It makes it so easy to do sums! I'm glad you've brought such an idea to Palarand."

"Thank you, Merizel. I don't expect that you are going to understand everything I want to tell people, but I'm glad you like the numbers."

"I do, Garia! I can't wait to tell people at home, they'll..." Merizel stopped and frowned. "Oh. I'm not likely to be going home for a while, am I?"

"My dear," Terys told her, "it's possible we could arrange some time off for you to visit your parents, but I'm afraid it probably wouldn't be until after the rains. Garia will be too busy."

"Oh." Merizel's face fell.

"Not to worry," Garia said, "I'm sure once we get the printing under way your father will find out all about the new numbers, probably before you see him next. And, if you're going home to visit, I could come with you if you like. I'd like to see a little of the countryside rather than just the inside of the palace all the time. Uh, begging your pardon, Ma'am."

"I quite understand, dear. We kept you here for your own safety but I see no reason that you shouldn't go traveling in the future. The King often makes visits to different parts of the kingdom, perhaps you'd like to accompany the royal party on some of those occasions."

"That would be interesting, Ma'am, but there's so much to do here right now, I couldn't possibly leave the city for a month or two."

"No-one will be going anywhere until after the rains have finished, Garia. There will be plenty of time later for us to make arrangements for visiting."

Later, Jenet reminded Garia, "Mistress, I believe the noon bell will sound soon."

"Oh yes, Jenet! Thank you for reminding me. I must go and check my watch."

Terys and Merizel followed Garia into her dressing room where she had left her watch on her dressing table. Garia frowned when she saw the time displayed.

"Five past one! I hope there's nothing wrong with it, I didn't think there would be that much discrepancy between the day lengths."

"How does your watch work, dear?"

Garia gave a brief explanation of how the watch was used to tell the time, explaining that she had reset the hands to twelve noon just as yesterday's double bong sounded and then let it run. She had expected a few minutes difference in the day length, and she wondered whether there were other subtle differences which had caused the watch to run fast - such as possible changes to the laws of physics, the concepts of which she found difficult to explain to her audience. As she was trying to explain this, the bells sounded again and she breathed a sigh of relief.

"Wow! That means your day is twenty-five hours eleven minutes long. I wondered whether I'd done something horribly wrong. Let me write that down on my slate and then we can go for lunch."

Jenet fetched the slate from the sitting room and Garia wrote "25h 11m" on it, which provoked further questions. By the time she had satisfied them and they had each cleaned themselves up, they were the last to appear for lunch.

"My dear," Robanar greeted the Queen, "we thought you had decided to take your nap early today."

As they were seated by their servants Terys replied, "We were slightly delayed by an experiment which Garia was conducting, dear. She had to wait for the noon bells and then we asked her some questions which delayed us. It seems, dear, that Anmar's day is longer than that of Earth."

Garia had been doing furious math in her head as they had walked through the corridors.

"Almost a bell longer, Ma'am," she said. "I don't believe there is any significance in the fact, though. Oh!" She had another thought and blushed. "It's just occurred to me that I'm even younger than I thought I was, comparatively speaking. When I worked out my age for Morlan I had assumed the day lengths were the same."

Robanar gave her a smile. "I think the opposite is almost certainly the case, Mistress. You have shown maturity greater than many girls years older than yourself. I have no doubt that the age you decided upon was correct, and I see no need for you to change it. "

"Thank you, Your Majesty."

It's one of those moot points, I suppose. These people are adapted to the day length they have just as I was to mine. I don't feel that the day is longer here, so perhaps I've adapted as well. And, looked at one way, a day's experiences are a day's experiences, however long that actually takes. Perhaps Robanar is right. It doesn't really matter, anyhow.

As Garia sat she had another reminder from when she had first arrived at the palace.

Heh. I'm wearing a pad, and I'm probably going to be wearing some kind of pad for a few days yet. And to think, when I first started wearing these gowns, that I was glad not to be wearing shorts, that I was happy not to have all that material bunched between my legs! If I had only known then what I know now...

Both Captain Bleskin and Keren had tales to tell about their morning activities.

"I think you'll like the result, Garia," Keren told her. "Now we've cleared the room and given it a scrub out, it looks quite big and light. There'll be plenty of room for almost anything you might want to do in there, I think."

"Of course," Bleskin added, "I regret we'll still have to use part of the room for storage, Mistress. But we've been able to dispose of a considerable amount of equipment that had no business being in there. Why, we discovered things in there which I do not recognize at all. I suspect that some of it may go back to the days before I joined the Guard," he smiled at her, "which was a very long time ago. I have resolved to continue the equipment review throughout the palace, so that when I hand over the Guard to Captain Merek at my retirement in a few months time he shall have no reason to complain about what he will inherit."

"What about those odd items, Captain?" Keren asked him.

"Oh, aye, Highness. Mistress, during our clear-out we discovered a number of strange items, which I can only conclude are some kind of war booty. We do not understand what they are. It occurred to the Prince that with your different knowledge, you may be able to identify some of them."

"Me?" Garia raised an eyebrow. "I don't know, Captain. I'm not an expert on, if you'll excuse my expression, ancient weapons of war."

"That's just it, Mistress. Some of the items, we don't even know if they are weapons or not. We just wondered given your different history and background, whether you might find any of them familiar. I don't think it's important whether you can identify anything or not, but if you can, there may be a benefit to us."

"I'll take a look, Captain, of course I will. "

During the meal the Queen sent Kenila away to talk to someone on one of the other tables, and when she returned the two had a short conversation before Terys turned to Garia.

"My dear, I noticed Mistress Shelda at table, and it occurred to me that, bearing in mind what has happened to you recently, that you could do with a little personal attention before you return to your normal activities. I have just enquired whether she could fit yourself and Merizel in this afternoon after our nap and the reply is that she can. Is there anything you have planned for later which might make a visit to the salon a problem?"

"I don't think so, Ma'am." Garia looked at Merizel, who had a surprised expression. "Have I anything arranged between our nap and dinner, Merizel?"

"Nothing specific, Garia. You did want to continue with the experiment with your watch, and at some time you'll want to collect your tunic, won't you. Mistress Rosilda did say that she would probably be finished today."

"Yes, that's right." Garia thought. "There's no reason we can't visit her after we've been to the salon, I guess. Ma'am? I think that's a great idea, going to the salon. Merizel will just love it."

"Then that's settled, dear. Kenila, go and tell Mistress Shelda that she has two customers for later this afternoon."

"Garia?" Merizel asked cautiously. "A salon is a name for a kind of room, isn't it? What's so special about this one?"

Terys favored Merizel with a smile. "It's where almost everyone in the palace goes to have their hair cut and styled, and where men go to be shaved or have their beards trimmed. They will also provide manicures and pedicures and other treatments which a woman might need."

Garia added, "On Earth a place like the salon would be called a beauty parlor, although it would be almost entirely for women. Men get their hair cut in what we would call a barber shop."

"A beauty parlor! I like the sound of that," Terys said, "although if we started calling it a beauty parlor I don't think many of the men would keep going there."

"No indeed, Ma'am!" Garia agreed. "Best to let things stay as they are, I think."

"I have never heard of such a place," Merizel said. "I always assumed that such attentions were the duties of one's maid. Certainly Bursila has always attended to my own needs in the past."

Terys blinked. "Yes, dear, you may be right, most ladies' maids, including my own, should be able to do such duties, and mine will do them when we are traveling. But in the palace, it makes sense to employ experts who can concentrate on such specialized tasks and leave our maids free for other activities. I think you will enjoy your visit to our salon."

"As you say, Ma'am."

~o~O~o~

"Here we are, Merizel," Garia said, ushering her into the long room. They walked through the activity to the inner sanctum where Mistress Shelda stood waiting.

"This is my new secretary, Lady Merizel, youngest daughter of Baron Kamodar of South Reach. Merizel, this is Mistress Shelda, who runs the salon."

Shelda curtseyed to them both, and then said, "I am pleased to see you again, Mistress. Welcome to the salon, Milady. If you would both take seats? I shall be attending to Mistress Garia today, as her hair will need my special attention, and my assistant Vandara will attend to Lady Merizel. Will that be acceptable to you both?"

"Of course," Garia said, and Merizel nodded agreement.

"What shall we do for you today, Mistress?"

"The works, please." At Shelda's puzzled look Garia realized she had used an Earth expression. "Um, anything and everything you feel needs attention, Mistress Shelda. The Queen suggested I am in need of a little pampering, and here I am."

"As you wish, Mistress. And the same for Lady Merizel?"

"Lady Merizel has never been to a place like this before," Garia told her, "so I don't see why not. Let us see what you can do for both of us, Mistress."

Shelda's eyes flickered over both women, and then she began issuing orders. The two were given capes and Vandara inspected Merizel's hair, while assistants were called from the larger room to give both women manicures and pedicures at the same time. Shelda, familiar with Garia's hair since she had been the one who had styled it originally, trimmed out some odd growths and reshaped it. Vandara, who had not been exposed to Garia's radical style before today, looked askance at it from her position behind Merizel.

"Milady? How do you wish your hair to be styled? Should I be cutting it similar to that of your companion?"

"Oh, no! Um, actually, I've been wondering what I would look like if my hair were cut like that, but I'm not sure that's such a good idea at the moment. Could you just trim the ends, please?"

"As you wish, Milady."

Like almost all women in Palarand, Merizel's hair was left to grow long. In her case, it fell below her waist and was normally kept just caught together at the nape of the neck, except for evening meals when Bursila piled it artfully high on her head.

As Shelda trimmed she remarked to Garia, "I must tell you, Mistress, I've had several inquiries from women servants since I cut your hair, asking if I would be prepared to cut theirs in a similar style. Not many, but eight or nine at least. I have told them that I would not do that without discussing the matter with you first."

Garia thought. "I wouldn't have been upset if you'd just gone and done it, Mistress Shelda, but I'm glad you didn't. There was a specific purpose for the way I wanted my hair cut, and I'm not sure I want other people with too similar a style just yet. Maybe in the future."

"As you wish, Mistress. I shall tell any others who ask that I cannot oblige them."

"That's not the entire story, though," Garia continued. "There are a whole range of other hairstyles I would be delighted to describe to you. Assuming I can find the time to do so, of course. I am rather busy at the moment."

"Indeed? Then I look forward to your next appearance, Mistress."

After their hair had been seen to a ribbon was used to hold it off their faces, which were given massages and thoroughly cleaned with some kind of cream, which Shelda assured Garia had been mixed from natural herbal ingredients.

Yup. Poison Ivy is a natural ingredient, isn't it? Guess I just have to hope for the best...

"A question, Mistress," Garia asked. "Can you provide full body massages? Are you the right person to be asking such a question?"

"Massages, Mistress?" Shelda's expression was of caution. "I don't know of anyone who could massage a woman's body, it wouldn't be seemly. Certain of the trained warriors employ manservants to massage them, usually foreign-born men who come from lands beyond the northern mountains. Is it usual for women to be massaged where you come from, Mistress?"

"Not usual, no, but not unusual either. The masseurs -" this translated into what seemed a long and awkward phrase "- would be women themselves in that case. It is usually done for women who lead very active lives or who are recovering from an injury."

"You come from a very strange land, Mistress, but then I already knew that. The answer, then, to your question must be no. Is it something that you think we should be providing for you here in the palace?"

"I don't think so, Mistress Shelda. At least, not for some while, I think. Forget I asked."

Garia had to admit that the experience on the whole had been a good one. The sheer decadence of having people wash your hands and feet and trim, shape and polish your nails while others cleaned your face and did your hair was very seductive, and she wondered how often she would need to come to the salon. She certainly felt refreshed by the time the two of them left to find Rosilda.

"What did you think, Merizel? Was it worth coming?"

"An unusual experience, Garia, but one I could easily get used to. I never knew such places existed! I'm not sure Bursila was impressed, though, judging by her expression in the mirror."

"There's no reason we can't let our maids get attended to the same time we do," Garia said. "It's a shame I didn't think of it earlier, in fact."

"Maids having the attention we just had? You have some very strange ideas, Garia."

"You have no idea, Merizel. No idea at all."

When they arrived at Yolda's office she was nowhere to be seen. Instead two strange men in the tax-collector's livery were seated at Yolda's desk, and they looked up when the women entered.

"Ah, we wish to speak with Mistress Rosilda."

"Rosilda's no mistress," one of them muttered. To Garia, he asked, "Can I ask your name and purpose? I'll go and fetch her."

"I am Mistress Garia, and Rosilda is making a garment for me."

"As you wish, Mistress."

The man got up and walked out of the office. The other man looked at Garia and said, "Apologies for my colleague, Mistress. He is finding the work here complex and not to his liking."

The man returned with Rosilda, who had garments over her arm.

"If you would come with me, Mistress, we shall find a changing room where you can try these."

In the changing room Jenet helped Garia undress before Rosilda handed her the tunic. Garia examined it closely, noticing the folded seams and sturdy stitching. By feel the fabric was the same as that the men wore, but of course the shape was different. Jenet helped her pull it over her head and then tied the tapes at either side. Garia inspected the result in the metal mirror with some difficulty, as the surface was not as flat as that of the mirror in her dressing room. It was good enough to tell her what she needed to know.

"I am impressed, Rosilda. You have a good eye for my figure, it fits perfectly."

She tried grabbing handfuls of cloth to see if it would be suitable for the kind of training she anticipated doing and felt pleased by the result. She nodded thoughtfully.

"Mistress?" Rosilda asked, "is the hem the length you desire? I can shorten it if you consider it too long. Have I allowed enough flare for you?"

"No, it's about right, I think. Only a morning's test will show if it is good enough to work, but then all you've had has been my description of what I intend to do wearing it."

Garia considered inviting Rosilda to a training session but decided against it for the time being. Tomorrow would be the first session after... her break, and there might be consequences she would rather keep between friends. Garia tried various arm and leg movements to see if there were any tight points but found none.

"It's good, Rosilda. Can I take it with me, or do you have to do more to it first?"

"It's ready, Mistress. I also have this for you."

Rosilda held out the other garment she still held, a wrap-around skirt. Jenet took it and wrapped it around Garia's waist, securing it with the tapes provided.

"You didn't have time to make this as well, surely?"

"I did not, Mistress, but as it is a fairly standard skirt design I had one of the others cut it and sew it together."

"I wasn't expecting this," Garia said, swirling the skirt around her legs. Her hands brushed the fabric and she turned to Rosilda. "It's not the same as the tunic."

"No, Mistress. I remembered what you said, that you would use it to hide your legs while you walked to the exercise place, and I found some thinner fabric for you. I remembered that you would be wearing tights and would otherwise get too warm. You will also notice that it is cut wider than the skirts of most gowns to allow you to move your legs more freely."

Hosanna! I've found a woman who has a brain and knows how to use it!

"This is perfect, Rosilda. Jenet, wind that sash round my waist so I can see the final effect."

Garia checked herself in the mirror again. That really feels good. The tunic fits me perfectly, but it's not too tight for the intended use. I like this skirt, too, and with the sash I have to admit I could be described as looking cute. No, don't strike a pose, you'll destroy all your credibility, wait till you get back to the suite. Now, I wonder...

"Rosilda, you've done a great job with these." Garia hesitated. "Um, I wonder. Do you think you might be prepared to try and make me some other, um, unusual garments? You seem to have a good idea what I need, am I doing the wrong thing by asking you directly? Should I be going through Mistress Yolda instead?"

Rosilda was cautious. "Unusual garments, Mistress?"

"Um, more clothes for exercising in, I guess. What I have in mind, wouldn't be anything like you have in Palarand at all, it would all be completely new, and I suspect some of it might be considered unseemly hereabouts."

"You would not be wearing these clothes in public, Mistress? You would be wearing these in the training hall, like the tunic you wear now?"

"That's exactly right, Rosilda. What do you think?"

"Mistress Yolda will be leaving us in a few weeks, and her attention is on the audit and the Harvest Festival preparations at the moment. I have little doubt that her successor will... have different ideas about the running of the department. I do not think there will be too much difficulty there, Mistress. I admit to being curious about any new costume designs you may have, Mistress. I would certainly be interested in hearing your ideas."

Garia's smile became broader. "I'm delighted to hear that, Rosilda. I could spend a week satisfying your curiosity, but it may have to wait. First, let me try these out, and then I'll come back here and ask you to make me some more. After that, we can amuse ourselves with future designs."

"As you wish, Mistress."

Since she would have to change for the evening meal when she got back to her suite, Garia decided to go back dressed as she was, Jenet carrying the gown she had worn so far that day.

"That's really well done, Garia," Merizel said as they walked back. "I would never have believed a simple tunic could be dressed up like that. You do look cute. Oh!" Her face changed. "Shouldn't I have said something like that?"

"No, Merizel, that's fine." Garia gave the taller girl a grin. "If I'm cute, then I'll just have to get used to the idea." Her eyes gleamed as she tried, unsuccessfully, to suppress a giggle, and Merizel joined in. The two were still chuckling when they reached Garia's suite.

~o~O~o~

"We are glad to see you looking so well, Mistress," Robanar said, "after the events of the last few days."

"Thank you, Sire, I feel much better already. Although there are still some, um, side-effects, I feel that I will be able to cope with this meeting well enough." Garia turned to the others seated around the table. "I must apologize for the short notice in delaying this meeting. You may be able to appreciate that what happened, while quite normal for any woman, had never happened to me before and we were all taken completely unawares. Since I am unlikely to arrive on Anmar again in the same way, however that was, it should never happen again."

"Well said, Mistress Garia. So, let us begin the meeting. First, perhaps, a report from those here about the matters already disclosed. Parrel? Perhaps you should start, as you have an interest in most of the devices and inventions Mistress Garia has already revealed."

"True, Sire." Parrel frowned. "That very fact is leading me to some troubled thoughts of my own, if I may begin that way. There is so much new information and knowledge coming forth that I am finding difficulty in managing everything as I previously had done. Mistress Garia did warn me that this might happen. I begin to think that I may have to reorganize my guild - indeed, the whole guild structure throughout Palarand may need to be reorganized. I have already made preliminary contacts with all other guildmasters in the city, but of course I am meeting some resistance from those who have had no contact with Mistress Garia or the inventions she has provided us. I will keep you posted on progress, Sire.

"Now to details. First, the production of forks is proceeding with great energy. As previously noted we subcontracted the work and those involved are producing between forty and fifty forks a day, about half of which are being delivered to the palace. I am told that the use of the tool for eating is becoming quite popular in the city, and we have already had inquiries from merchants concerning export to nearby Valley countries. I will let Master Tanon handle that portion of the report.

"Next, there has been much experimentation in the paper-making workshop, and we can now say that we can produce several different qualities of paper reliably. Unfortunately, the production rate is very slow and it seems we require vast quantities of water, which means that any production here in the city will be very low volume. In addition we have been experimenting with materials of various kinds with some quite interesting results. Mistress," he turned to Garia, "we would like to ask you to attend the workshop at a date convenient to you to view our results and methods, if you will."

"I would be delighted to come, Master," Garia said. "Would tomorrow afternoon be too soon?"

"Not at all, Mistress. We shall make arrangements."

"To answer your earlier point," Garia added, "paper making will require some kind of crushing or milling to provide the final pulp so it makes sense to base production at a mill on a river somewhere. I would not think that the city would be a suitable place for paper-making, or indeed most of the activities I plan to tell you all about. It seems to me, from what I have learned so far, that the Palar Valley will be where most workshops - factories, we might call them - will be set up."

Parrel nodded. "I had more or less reached that same conclusion myself, Mistress. To resume, then, we have begun designing models of telescope, both for use by the various Guards and for watching the skies. I had not realized just how different the two kinds would be but I am satisfied by the way my guildsmen are progressing. Guildmaster Hurdin of the glass makers, who doubtless will make his own report, has joined with me in arranging lenses to be ground, both for the new telescopes and for the microscopes of which Mistress Garia described last time we met here.

"Next, my assistant Tarvan here has produced a functional model of what Mistress Garia calls a 'still', made entirely from copper pipe and sheet soldered into shape, which has yet to be tested. Guildmaster Hurdin will doubtless tell you of our experiments to make glass sheets. And finally, much of my time has been occupied with a new subject I regret I have become engrossed with, which Mistress Garia described to me at a separate meeting recently also attended by Master Pitchell here, which is the new Printing Press. Allied to which is another curious device which Mistress Garia described, called a Typewriter. I have had to pass that last on to several of my guild-members to develop." He gave the others a harried smile. "As you can see, I have much to occupy my time these days."

"Do you feel that you are overburdened, Guildmaster?" Robanar asked him.

"Oh, no, Sire! I feel more energized than I have for many years. As I explained at the start, I may have to review both my own activities and the methods of our Guilds, but I look forward with great anticipation to whatever Mistress Garia intends to reveal in the future."

I hope you still feel that way in ten years time, Garia thought. Come to that, I hope I can justify your enthusiasm.

"This Printing Press, Parrel," Robanar asked. "Will you describe it for those of us here who were not at your previous meeting?"

"Of course, Sire."

Parrel described the fairly simple method which Garia had told him for constructing a basic printing press. She was impressed to find that he had remembered all that she had told him, including the potential implications for Palarand society. Master Scribe Pitchell stopped writing long enough to add his impressions and ideas, including the need to design and lay out typefaces. It was obvious to all however that the main implication was the way in which this invention went hand-in-hand with the introduction of paper.

"It is such an obvious thing," remarked Terys. "I cannot imagine how paper will change Palarand society, but I can readily see that it will. And, a means of rapidly copying documents for mass distribution, that will have an even greater effect. I understand now why Garia was cautious about revealing her knowledge."

"On my world," Garia said, "the introduction of the printing press meant an end to the secretive hoarding of knowledge, as a means of retaining power. Begging your pardon, Guildmasters. It also meant that knowledge could be passed on without getting corrupted between one teller and the next, since it does not rely on memory but what was originally printed on the page. That does not mean that you can rely on any printed document, any more than you can rely on documents now. Once presses become available for general use, anyone can print whatever they like."

"I appreciate your warning, Mistress," Robanar said. "Like a pen, then, this press is but another tool, to be used for good or ill. Let us hear another report. Guildmaster Hurdin?"

"Sire. As Parrel mentioned we have been grinding lenses of various shapes and sizes to fit the devices he is making. We also arranged a demonstration in which we brought glass-making materials to one of his workshops and used one of his forges to make a pot of glass, which we then poured onto a shallow bath of liquefied tin. Much to our surprise the glass spread out in a thin sheet, and when the tin was cooled slightly we were able to lift the glass sheet with tongs." Hurdin turned to Garia. "All Anmar thanks you for this invention, Mistress. It will take a little while to perfect the method, but I can think of many ways in which these sheets may be useful."

"Pitchell?"

"Sire, I have been in discussion with Captain Bleskin and Captain Merek concerning the introduction of a semaphore system for Palarand. It occurred to us that this will have commercial as well as military implications, and thus we will provide a system which can safely be used for both purposes."

"Commercial implications?"

"Sire," Tanon broke in. "Of course. Imagine that a ship is newly arrived at Viridor from afar, bearing a valuable cargo. To get news of such a cargo in Palarand two days earlier than a messenger could bring it could mean a significant monetary gain. I could instruct my factor in Viridor to bid or not, as the circumstances permit."

"Ah, of course, I see your point, Tanon. Very well. Pitchell, do you see this new method replacing the Valley Messenger Service?"

"No, Sire, since there will always be need for packages and attested documents to be transported. And, of course, Sire, there is always the diplomatic element to the service."

"As you say, Pitchell. Anyone else have anything to say? Margra?"

"I have been having discussions with Mistress Garia, Sire, concerning the structure and functioning of our bodies. There is much to understand, so if I may, I will defer to another meeting."

"As you will. Tanon?"

"Sire," began Tanon, "I have been concerned with some of the numbers which Mistress Garia has used." He turned to address Garia directly. "Oh, I don't mean your numbering system which I find amazingly useful, I mean the sheer size of the production quantities you have mentioned. To produce huge quantities of steel, for example, will require huge quantities of wood for charcoal, and yet more quantities of wood to heat the furnaces. The paper-making will require yet more wood. If we plant more trees they will not be grown for many years, and may take up land better used for food. Yet your world must have found an answer, Mistress."

"Yes, Master Tanon," she said, "we did, and that's what I want to talk about tonight. Over the last few days, while I've been indisposed, as it were, I've had an opportunity to consider the way forward, and basically it comes down to a single commodity which made the revolution on Earth possible. I have made discreet inquiries and I know it exists here. It is coal."

"Coal?" Parrel's tone indicated contempt. "That rubbish? How is coal useful? It's more of a nuisance to the miners than anything."

"How so, Master Parrel?"

Parrel's disdain for the 'rubbish' was plain to see. "It has no strength, Mistress. When the miners tunnel through a seam of coal, they are forced to shore their tunnels in a way that is not necessary with most other rocks. There are roads in the Palar valley which cross seams of coal, the stuff crumbles and disintegrates, it means expensive repairs must be made all the time."

"Have you tried doing anything with it, to see if it is useful?"

Parrel shrugged. "We have tried most rocks in the past, Mistress, in case any were useful ores bearing metal of one kind or another. If we heat coal it just disintegrates leaving a thin layer of ash, no use to anyone. We have found no metal within it, Mistress."

"Have you tried burning it, Master Parrel?"

"Well, yes, Mistress, but I don't see the point. We just end up with the ash I mentioned."

"For about two hundred years, Master Parrel, my civilization ran almost entirely on coal. The point is that it is not an ore, it is a fuel. A fuel which gives out much more heat than the same weight of wood."

Parrel was taken aback, and there were a number of thoughtful expressions around the table.

"You mean that we could substitute coal for wood, Mistress?" he asked. "That would be quite useful."

"You have no idea, Master Parrel. When you heat wood to make charcoal, do you take note of what comes out of it?"

"Uh, I don't know what you mean, Mistress. Smoke, usually. Why? Is there something else?"

"If you were to make a closed metal container to hold the wood, and heat it from outside, you will discover that a gas is driven out of the wood as it becomes charcoal. This gas will burn and can be used for lighting or heating purposes if captured."

"Really?" Parrel's face fell. "More experiments, I suppose."

"Wait till I've finished, Master. You can do the same thing with coal. If you cook it in an enclosed container, it becomes a new substance called coke. This burns much hotter than charcoal. If you put coke in your furnaces, you will find that you can make steel much easier. This coke can also be burned as an industrial or a domestic fuel, and has the advantage that, left outside, it won't rot or disintegrate like a log pile might."

"Mistress, I should know better by now than to be surprised by anything you tell us."

"Thank you, Master Parrel. Now, coal is the key to almost all that follows. You will be building giant furnaces ten, fifteen or twenty strides high, usually on the side of a hill. You throw iron ore, coke, and a little limestone into the top of your furnace, and molten steel flows out the bottom. To make the furnaces you'll need millions of bricks, which will all require firing, which needs coal again. The mortar for the bricks again needs a furnace for its manufacture, fired by coal. Finally, you'll need a source of power for working the metal which doesn't depend on being near to a river, and that will be a steam engine, again fired by coal."

Parrel sat back, overwhelmed by what he had just heard.

"Mistress," Hurdin asked her, "could this coal be used for making glass, would you know?"

"Of course, Master Hurdin. Anywhere you need intense heat you can use coal. Or coke, if it is available."

The astronomer Gerdas, who up until now had kept out of the discussions, now spoke up.

"Mistress, you speak of a steam engine. May I ask what that might be?"

"Master Gerdas," she smiled at him. "If you heat water in an enclosed container, the steam produced will come out of a suitable pipe with some force. That force can be made to do useful work, such as turning a wheel. One of the projects I have for Master Parrel is to make a model steam engine to show you all how it works. A steam engine," she addressed all of them, "can take the place of a watermill, or a treadmill, or any other place where you might need motion. Once you get used to the idea that a steam engine can be put anywhere, not restricted to a river like a mill is, you'll discover many uses for it. Pumps, for example. Cranes, hoists, digging machines. They can pull plows across fields, drive ships without the need for wind or oars. Operate factories running weaving machines."

Easy, there. Don't overwhelm them. Let them get used to the idea of portable power first, see where they run with it. You can tell them the other uses another day.

"I had no idea," muttered Hurdin. "This will change everything."

"Indeed, Hurdin," Gerdas said. "I begin to understand the world Mistress Garia comes from, now."

"Drive ships without oars or sails," mused Tanon. "That will certainly change sea travel, and river traffic, for ever."

"It gets worse," Garia grinned at him, "some of our small ships are still made out of wood, but most are made of steel sheet. It's so much stronger than wood, and the power of steam can push them along easily."

"I think," Robanar said faintly, "that we'd better stop here. Tanon, my apologies, we'll hear the rest of your report at the next meeting. There is a huge amount for us to talk about, isn't there? Feel free, all of you, to come along to the palace and talk to any of us. Mistress Garia, you're going to a paper demonstration tomorrow afternoon, then?"

"Yes, Sire. And, I'll need to talk to Master Parrel about coke and steam engines, I guess. I also want to talk to Master Hurdin and Master Gerdas concerning a curious property of glass which you will find useful in the future."

Hurdin looked surprised but Gerdas just grinned at Garia. He was comfortable with her revelations now and no longer startled by anything she said.

"I'll arrange the meetings, Garia," said Merizel, sitting off to one side beside Pitchell. "Sire, when shall we meet next?"

"Lady Merizel, I cannot answer that directly. Perhaps three days. I will have to consult Kendar, of course. Will there be any difficulty for any of you?"

"Sire," Gerdas said, "I think I speak for all of us when I say that we will re-arrange anything, possibly excepting our own deaths, to be at a meeting like these have proved to be. Have no fear at all that we will not be available."

~o~O~o~

"Whew! That was an interesting day, wasn't it?"

"As you say, Mistress. Did it tire you out to do so much after resting?"

"Not really, Jenet. Don't forget, at my age I'm supposed to be full of energy. That was a good idea the Queen had, to go to the salon. Don't get me wrong, I really appreciate all you do for me, but it's nice to sit in a chair and have everything done occasionally. It's not something I ever experienced on Earth."

"It's nice to let someone else do all the hard work, Mistress. Not that I don't mind doing it for you myself, of course."

"Ah, I'm sorry, I've worked you hard the last few days, haven't I? And there's nothing at all I could have done about any of it."

"You're a woman, Mistress. It's what our bodies do. Now you know what to expect and when to expect it, the whole thing should be much easier in the future."

"As you say, Jenet. Do you think I should be able to train tomorrow? I'd like to, now I have the tunic."

"I don't see why not, Mistress. I'm not sure you should be attempting that thing with your legs, but if you take it carefully there should be no surprises. You might find that some parts of your body are still sensitive, though."

"I'll bear that in mind, Jenet. Now, let's go to bed."

Garia tries out her new training gear with mixed results. A visit to Parrel's workshop in the afternoon includes mention of toilet paper, blast furnaces, glue and canals!

Somewhere Else Entirely

by Penny Lane

24 - Back to Business

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

---

By chance Garia and Jenet were among the first to arrive for breakfast the next morning. They stood around watching the servants lay the table, Garia noting that almost everyone now had a fork laid beside their plate. Captain Bleskin came into the dining room from another door and stopped suddenly when he saw Garia before walking slowly towards her.

"Mistress Garia, good morning," he greeted her. His expression showed more emotion than she had ever seen before. "Your attire does honor to the Guard."

This threw her completely. She was wearing her new tunic and skirt as she intended to go and exercise immediately after breakfast, and she had decided that it looked quite good. Not sure how to respond to Bleskin's comment she reddened and stammered, "Thank you, Captain."

Seeing her confusion he said, "If any woman should be entitled to wear the colors of the Guard, Mistress, it would be yourself. Even though I have not seen them yet for myself I have heard reports that you have skills which would be welcome in any of my men. Seeing you attired thus, I assume you are ready to resume your training?"

"I am, Captain," she replied, recovering her poise somewhat. "At least, I shall use today to see if I am recovered or not, or whether I should wait a little longer. I promise that I shall show you in a day or two what I am capable of."

Bleskin smiled at her. "At your own convenience, Mistress. I would not wish you to suffer unnecessarily on my account."

Keren arrived then, eyes widening as he took in her appearance. "Garia! Good morning. I like your outfit! Is that what you wanted all along?"

"More or less, Highness. I'll be giving it a try-out after breakfast." She gave him a look. "Care to join me?"

"Of course, Mistress." He gave a sidelong look at Bleskin. "I think I've had enough practice at being a porter for now."

Bleskin gave him an indulgent smile back. "As you wish, Highness. From what I am told, working with Mistress Garia is tougher than any portering would be."

"It's not so much the portering, Captain, it was all the dust. I hope it never gets that bad again."

"I'm writing up standing instructions so that it never does happen again, Highness. Once is entirely enough, I believe." Bleskin turned to Garia. "Your hall awaits you, Mistress. I think you'll find it suitable for your purposes. If there is anything else you require, you have but to ask."

She curtseyed to him. "Thank you so much, Captain."

At that point the King and Queen appeared. Robanar stopped and stared at Garia, then looked at Bleskin over her head.

"Sire, I believe she has earned the right to wear the colors," Bleskin said.

Robanar gave Garia another searching glance, then nodded his head once at her before turning to his seat. Terys came towards the group.

"You look very nice, dear. Who made you that?"

"Rosilda, Your Majesty. It isn't a gown, it's actually a separate tunic and skirt. I wanted something I could exercise in."

"I remember, dear. Will you let me inspect it sometime? It's always interesting when people have new ideas for clothes, isn't it?"

"Of course, Ma'am. Is the King... upset because I'm wearing the Guards' colors?"

"I don't know, dear, I'll ask him. It's silly, of course, no-one could possibly mistake you for a guardsman, could they? Come and sit down by me, dear, and we'll talk about it."

After breakfast Garia, Keren, Merizel and the two maids made their way through the palace to the area used by the Palace Guard for training. As usual, Garia turned many heads during her progress but she had become accustomed to that now. The large room was empty so they headed for the smaller one they had been given by Bleskin.

"Wow, that made a difference, didn't it?"

"Told you. Mind you, there was a lot of grumbling and cursing while we emptied it out and cleaned it all up." He gave her a sidelong glance. "Of course, that all stopped when Captain Bleskin told them who they were emptying it for."

Again Garia was at a loss for words. The thought that the entire body of guards had willingly cleaned out a room just for her benefit was a lot to handle. She wondered what the captain had told them. She wondered what they all thought of her, and she was afraid of the answer.

The room itself, as might be expected, was shiny clean. Laths had been affixed to the side walls at head height - Keren's head height - and fitted with numerous wooden pegs, from which dangled scabbarded swords and other weapons, complete suits or parts of armor, robes, flags and bags of all shapes and sizes. From the ceiling three long poles hung, with captured standards or banners obviously won in battle. On the floor, covering the rear third of the room, were trestle tables, and both on them and under them were other items of war, most bagged to keep them clean. The whole array made Garia realize that the Palace Guard, small though it might be, had played an active part in the defense of Palarand in the past.

In front of her the floor was covered by two of the felt mats, both much cleaner and in better repair than those they had used in the other room. At either side, facing the mats, some benches had been provided for spectators.

"Those were my idea," Keren said, pointing to the benches. "Not everyone is going to be making fools of themselves on the mats, are they? Might as well have a comfortable seat to watch from."

"And you've left enough floor space for us to do the Tai Chi on," she noted. "Well, let's begin."

Moving over to the benches Jenet stripped off Garia's skirt and re-tied the sash. Keren took note of the modified tunic shape and nodded in approval before the three took position on the floor, Merizel and Bursila sitting on the bench to watch.

"How much do you remember?" she asked the Prince.

"I hope I remember all of it," he replied. "I've been doing it in my room the last few mornings before I came down to breakfast."

"I'm impressed! So, let's get started, then." She took position and began the first form.

It was obvious that Keren had been taking the whole idea seriously. As far as Garia could determine as she moved through the exercise his positioning was faultless. Jenet was less accurate but Garia expected that, the woman probably didn't have a single martial bone in her body, but even she was progressing well. Garia taught them two more forms before they broke for a drink.

Eventually they got through the preliminaries to arrive at what Garia mentally called 'the main event'. Keren faced her across the mat, ready for action. They both moved, she sidestepping and going for his tunic, he evading and lunging for an arm. She was forced to duck, twist and change her grip to a flattened hand, angling for the ribs under his right arm. He swayed back but it wasn't enough, her blow unbalanced him and he fell, but he was able to grab her arm as he went and pull her down as well.

"Ow!"

"Whoops, sorry! Did I hurt you, Garia?"

"No, not really." She hurriedly scrambled up, away from his body. "Parts of me are, uh, a little more tender than I expected. Give me a moment, please."

She stood, swaying, trying to calm her body, as he climbed to his feet facing her. Breathe. Breathe slowly. Slowly. Take your time, get it under control. You still have those damn hormones flooding your body. But part of her knew it was more than that. A woman's body wasn't meant to be as strong or as hard as a man's, and she had one of the former now. If she was to continue with the exercise regime she had chosen, she would just have to work that much harder than ever she had done before. There's no going back. I've chosen this path, I must stick to it, and if that means hard work, so be it. She looked at Keren, his face full of concern for her.

"Is it too soon, after..?" he asked. "Should you not have waited another day or two?"

"Jenet says not, she says that the quicker I can get back to normal routine the better. There will always be four days or so every month where I just can't, but the other days I should be fine." Business, not pleasure. God, his body is hard. "So, tell me, what did you just try to do?"

Analyzing their moves proved to both that the other was taking the lessons seriously. Garia was dismayed to discover that her reflexes were not as sharp as she expected and her strength appeared weaker than the last time the two had trained. Nevertheless they persisted and managed to make some progress before she reluctantly called a temporary halt for a drink.

"I'm sorry, Keren," she told him, "I'm not operating at the level I was... before. Perhaps it is too soon to be doing this."

He looked at her, his gaze one of concern. "I'm not surprised, really. Obviously I don't know what a woman's body goes through when Kalikan calls, but I do have two older sisters and I remember how it affected them at times. Personally, I'm surprised you've managed this much this soon. I do know that as well as affecting you emotionally it can affect you physically, and so perhaps you need to build your strength up again before you exercise to your previous levels. Remember, this is the first time it's happened to you, and you'll probably need two or three months to completely adjust to what happens each time."

"Yes," she admitted, disappointment evident in her voice, "Perhaps I am being a little too enthusiastic. Oh, I had so hoped..." Her voice trailed off and she took another drink before continuing, "It seems I have yet to learn to accept the limitations of my new body."

He gave her an encouraging smile. "I wouldn't worry, if I were you. There's still a huge amount you can achieve even if you just sit there and don't lift a finger. There's nothing at all wrong with that fine mind of yours, as you have demonstrated many times so far. There must be other things you can teach me, things that don't involve us throwing ourselves at each other on the mat."

Garia was startled. She had been so wrapped up in her own unsettled feelings and the disappointment over the session so far that she hadn't considered what else she might do. Her eyes narrowed as she considered the possibilities, and then she smiled.

"You are so right, Keren. There is indeed much that we can do, that we can all do, in fact. Let's go back to the beginning, then, and I shall start with the basics, how you might deal with a confrontation, for example. You three," she pointed at Merizel and the two maids, "I'm including you in this, as well. There's no reason why I shouldn't improve your chances when things get ugly."

"Us, Garia?" Merizel asked.

"Yes. Haven't you ever been in a situation where someone - a man, usually - comes towards you and you don't quite know whether they are going to attack you, or take advantage of you, or something like that? It's more likely to be a man, and it's less likely to be the Prince on the wrong end of it, but that kind of situation could happen to any of us, any time."

They nodded, and Garia continued.

"The important thing is not to freeze, and not to look upset, or anything like that. Carry on, look as if you know what you're doing, and that you know what you're about to do. That way, you won't allow the other person to take charge of the situation. This should make them uncertain what they're dealing with. Now, if they start to get physical, you should know the most vulnerable points to hit, to discourage them from continuing whatever they intend. Keren, if I could use your body as a token attackers body? Just stand there."

Keren stood and Garia pointed to his groin.

"Obviously, every man and woman knows that is where a man is most vulnerable. However, with the skirts most of us wear it's not easy for us to kick a man that high. You can use your knee," she demonstrated, "if you can get close enough, or your fist. Don't be afraid to hit as hard as you possibly can. If he's that close that you can reach him that way, then you need to make sure he has something else to worry about for a while. Of course, that's not the only place to cause an attacker grief."

Garia went on to describe other vulnerable points for both men and women, getting Keren to act as the attacker as she demonstrated, carefully, how to incapacitate anyone without needing to use excessive amounts of strength. The three women were aware of some of what she had told them, but putting it all in a concentrated lesson made them think properly about a subject they had all only casually considered before in their lives.

"M-Mistress Garia?"

Bursila spoke, Bursila who usually remained quiet and unobtrusive. Garia had already noticed that she was much quieter than Jenet and decided that in the environment in which she had served servants had much less freedom than she had observed in the palace. Of course, Garia's position was unique and so people reacted towards her differently than they might have the others in charge, but even so Bursila was usually somewhat more reserved than the average. Garia noticed that even though she addressed her, her eyes flickered towards Merizel as if wishing her permission before speaking.

"Bursila," she acknowledged the maid with a nod. "Please, speak freely."

"Mistress, why do you bother with us servants? I would not think that we are deserving of your instruction, surely? Are the servants treated this way where you come from, this other world?"

"On my world, Earth, Bursila, we don't have servants the way that people here do," she replied, and then thought. That's not quite true, is it. Hotel and restaurant staff, shop assistants, cleaners. "Um, we do have staff, but they aren't like those here, I guess." What about the White House? That's full of people supporting the President. "And we would expect someone like a King or Merizel's father to have servants, simply because they have a heavy job to do and they need help to do it.

"But the main point is that whoever you are and whatever job you do, you're still a person and there are still people out there who might want to do you harm. There are always some who will try and pick on those they think are weak and vulnerable in one way or another, so I see no problem in teaching anyone how to defend themselves against such people."

Both Merizel and Bursila have attitudes that are so ingrained that it might be difficult to get them to adapt. The question is, should I be trying to change them? I've been dropped into an alien society with different rules than my own. What right do I have to try and make them behave a different way?

Ah, well. I've started the Industrial Revolution snowball rolling, it's quite likely some people are going to get knocked over before it reaches the bottom of the hill. There's no way I can predict all the changes that are bound to happen.

"As you say, Mistress. But, for a servant such as myself, how are we to know how to deal with a Master or Mistress who intends something bad for us? I agree with all you've said so far but resisting the advances of our superiors would be dangerous."

"This is true, Mistress," Jenet added. "With another servant who tried to take advantage, then it would not be difficult to discourage him as you have suggested. But, someone of a higher status, what are we to do?"

This had Garia stumped. She shrugged.

"I can't say, Jenet. The situation you describe wouldn't arise on Earth. Anyone would have a go at anyone else who tried anything, assuming they could, of course. Hmm. I need to think about that one. Keren? Any ideas?"

"You're fishing deep waters here, Garia," he replied. "The injustices of a master or mistress taking advantage of a servant are as old as time. It's always been that way, but I don't see that makes it right." His eyes pierced her. "I think you and I need to have a long quiet talk sometime soon. Perhaps there are ideas from Earth which can change this situation."

Her skin prickled at the invitation of a long quiet talk with Keren but she knew that this matter could become potentially serious. "There are, Highness, and some of them could destroy Palarand."

He picked up on the mode of address and knew she hinted at something dangerous.

"Very well, we'll talk soon. Do you object to Merizel's presence?"

"Of course not, Keren. Nor our two maids. But, we won't talk of this to anyone else yet. Agreed?"

"Agreed. And, before we get diverted by other serious matters, the three-quarter bell has gone and the men will soon be returning inside. Perhaps it is time we returned to our suites to change before lunch."

Jenet reattached Garia's skirt and the five walked out of the Training Room... to find it full of guardsmen. There was a jostling and clattering among the men which soon died away as they spotted Garia and the others emerging. The silence spread as the men turned to face the group, and then, as one, they stood to attention and bowed. Flustered, Garia made a gracious curtsey towards them before the five made their way into the palace corridors.

"What just happened then, Keren?" she whispered to him.

"Your attire, Garia. Compared to almost every other woman in the palace, it is quite martial in appearance, very like a guard uniform. I can't be sure but I think the men approve of your choice of color and style. They already know, of course, of your familiarity with weapons, so I think they are showing you respect."

"My familiarity with - Keren, I can't do half what those men can do. I'm just a young girl."

He grinned. "And that makes them respect you even more. They expect their own sons - when they know who they are - to take up fighting, as that's a man's occupation, but for a woman to do so is extremely unusual."

"That means they are going to expect... Keren, I just don't need this extra responsibility, I have too much going on already."

"You describe my own life, Garia. Sometimes, we just have to take a deep breath and accept whatever comes our way."

"As you say, Keren."

I should have figured it out when I met Bleskin this morning. Now I have to make good on everything I might have hinted at to the Guard. I suppose that gives me an incentive to train harder, if nothing else.

~o~O~o~

The carriage clattered to a halt in the courtyard and someone outside opened the doors to allow them to exit. The heat of middle afternoon hit them like a blow, the cobbles of the yard and the enclosed space trapping the energy of the sun but preventing the breeze from cooling anything. Two young men, apparently apprentices, ushered them into the large workshop where it was darker and a little cooler. Waiting for them were Parrel, Tarvan and Tanon as well as some others she recognized but didn't know the names of.

"Welcome, Mistress Garia, Your Highness, Lady Merizel." Garia noticed that she had been named first, disrupting the order of precedence, but then this whole show was for her benefit after all so perhaps that's how the local custom worked. "If you would come this way, we will show you the results we have had so far."

Guildmaster Parrel led the way but stopped before he reached the closest of the benches.

"Mistress, since we anticipate your presence in our workshops on future occasions along with that of your staff we decided to present you with protective coverings of your very own, cut to suit your, um, different sizes. Behold."

Tarvan came forward and presented each of them, including Jenet and Bursila, with a leather apron sized to suit their very different figures. Each was new and therefore clean and undamaged but they were utilitarian garments designed for practical use, not decorated ceremonial items as Garia had first assumed. The five slipped the straps over their heads and then secured each other's ties.

"We anticipated that you would soon be visiting the Glass-maker's Guild workshops where some protection will be essential," Parrel continued. "It is possible that you would visit our new experimental iron-making facility as well, so providing these aprons is a practical gift as well as a small token of gratitude for what you have given us so far."

"Thank you, Guildmaster Parrel," she replied. "We did not expect these but the thought is appreciated."

At the bench, he gestured to an array of paper sheets displayed on the surface.

"As you can see, Mistress, we have tried many experiments to see what different papers we could come up with. Some of these are suitable for writing on, as you can see, but we are not sure of the value of some that we have produced."

Garia walked along the bench looking at the various samples. It was only as she examined and felt each of the sheets that she realized just how pervasive paper was to Earth society. Paper didn't just mean reading and writing, it entered every corner of life. She fingered a sheet of thin, cream paper.

"Shiny."

"Aye, Mistress. Even using the most closely-woven silk Master Tanon could find, the surface has a kind of roughness which can sometimes make the use of a pen awkward. I know, it may mean that we have to change the design of the pens perhaps or the composition of the inks but Master Braydor had a different thought and that is what has led to the sheet you hold now. Instead of using a press to extract all the water, just enough was removed to allow it to retain a shape and then it was fed through two closely-spaced rollers. We discovered that this would give a shinier surface than the original method, and in fact extracts more water, but handling the paper is more difficult."

"Rollers is a good idea, Master Parrel. If I may, I'll show you in a minute how to best use rollers, and at the same time it will speed up production immensely. But first, I'd like to talk about the different samples you've shown me."

"Mistress."

"This one, if you can make it a little thicker still, we would call cardboard. It will be sufficiently strong to make boxes out of, up to about half a stride in each direction. Make the sheets much bigger and they can be folded. You will need glue or other methods to keep the shape." She briefly described staples, which the metalsmiths grasped straight away. "Moving on, this paper is thin enough that you can make bags out of, like this." She gently bent the sheet into a cylinder. "Glue this, a simple paste of flour and water should work, shape into a box and then fold one end under. This kind of bag or small sack can hold seeds, powders like flour or other small items. On Earth we sell foodstuffs in bags made from paper like this." Or we did, until plastic came along. We can't go there yet.

"Master Tanon, you can use sturdy tubes of cardboard or thick paper to provide centers for your rolls of material, that will prevent it creasing during transport or storage. This very thin stuff on the end, we would call tissue paper, it can be used to protect clothing and other delicate objects. This one, which I can see cloth fibers in, we would use to print money on as it is so hard-wearing. I don't suggest you start making paper money yet, because that would introduce all kinds of other problems, but it could be used for important documents like Royal Decrees, for example."

She turned to address the whole group.

"On Earth, I have realized we use paper for a great many things other than just putting words on. We cover the inside walls of our houses in it, for decoration. In one part of the world, the walls are made of paper. We make lamp coverings in it, boxes, bags, packages which can be sent round the world. We wrap our lunches in it if we are going out, if waxed we can even drink out of paper cups. So many things I can't think of them all. We blow our noses on it. We even," she lowered her voice, "wipe our backsides with it."

This provoked a variety of responses from puzzlement to disbelief to sniggers and she was quick to explain what she meant.

"We use a special variety of thin paper, not unlike this," she held up a flimsy sample, "which holds together well enough when dry but disintegrates once in water, which means it won't clog up the sewers. I will remind you that as you experiment with what you have managed to make you'll find your own uses for different kinds of paper. I've just given you a few ideas to start you off."

"As you say, Mistress," Parrel said, looking fiercely at the sniggerers. "I'm sure we will."

"Ah! I see a blackboard over there," she said. "Do you mind if I use it?"

"Of course," Parrel said. "It was put there in case you wished to explain anything to us."

Garia gave Parrel a careful look but it seemed the gesture was genuine. She crossed to the board and picked up some chalk.

"Now, I was thinking about the rollers you mentioned, and about something you said at our last meeting. Suppose you do this." She started drawing on the blackboard. "Instead of mounting the silk or other cloth in frames, instead you use a very long strip of it, as wide as you wish your paper to be, and you make it into a continuous loop with the ends sewn together. One end of this loop -"

Garia sketched out a cross-section of a production-line version of the paper-making process, leaving most of Parrel's associates with their mouths open. Some of them had encountered Garia before but most hadn't realized just how much she understood of the world they moved in. Soon all were gathered round the diagram as she explained the workings of the paper plant she had drawn.

"Of course, this will require you to make metal rollers with enough precision to allow the paper to be uniform in thickness," she concluded. "Do you think you can do that yet, Master Parrel?"

"Aye, Mistress, probably," he replied. "So many, though! And, it seems to me, that you'll need one of those engines you described to turn these rollers?"

"That's right, Master, but you can start off with a watermill, as we discussed before. Steam engines will come later."

Several of the others perked up at the mention of steam engines but they knew that their curiosity would doubtless be satisfied in time.

"Oh! While I'm at the blackboard, here's a way of making a strong, lightweight material out of paper." Garia went on to describe corrugated cardboard.

"Hmm," said Parrel. "Looks like I have to find some people to start a workshop investigating different glues, doesn't it? Thank you, Mistress, you have given us all much to think about."

~o~O~o~

They had stopped to take drinks, because it was still hot in the workshop even though the open doors allowed a breeze to flow through. At this time of afternoon in what was apparently late summer the air was still very warm. Garia wondered how long it would be before they could produce air-conditioning and refrigeration.

Copper piping, check. Alcohol for a working fluid, check. Compressor or pump, hmm. To start with, wind or water as available. Then steam power. Finally, electricity, but that introduces its own problems and opportunities. I could spend a year just talking about electricity and all the attendant uses, and really we have to concentrate on the basics to start with. So, coke, steel, steam. Possibly piped gas, as that's a bonus by-product.

"Master Parrel, I am impressed by what you have shown me so far."

"Thank you, Mistress. Once the principles have been grasped, it is a simple process after all. I am already establishing a small... factory, did you call it? which I hope will begin producing small quantities of paper within two to three weeks."

"Mistress," Tanon added, "The provision of raw materials is what will determine how much paper we can produce, at least to begin with. Although most of what we require is already available, obtaining and transporting straw, wood, saw-mill waste and other stuffs to our factory is a new activity which requires planning, and of course some of the items are seasonal. I own only so many wagons, after all, and most are already in use for other purposes, especially at this time of year when the harvest is being brought in."

"Of course, Master Tanon," Garia nodded. "Until paper-making becomes an established industry, I do not think that anyone will object to the slow rate of progress. I had, of course, forgotten about the harvest."

"Is there anything else you would like to talk about, Mistress?" Parrel asked.

"Me? I could probably talk all afternoon, Master Parrel." She smiled at him. "Why don't you bring me up to date on what you have done so far with the other projects?"

They talked amongst themselves about telescopes, microscopes, semaphores, typewriters and printing presses. Naturally, Parrel's time had been filled with trying to set up projects to progress all of these, which meant that he was rather busy. Garia was able to solve one or two problems that had come up so far.

"You mentioned an experimental iron works earlier," she said to him. "I'm surprised you have enough detail from me to do that yet."

"I don't have enough, Mistress," he readily confessed. "But I know roughly what is needed in terms of land, water and roads, and I have asked the palace to give us a small grant of land near Crescent Lake, to the west of the city, to build the works on. Aye, I know you suggested the side of a hill, but for the first experiments a small-scale works nearby may be as much as we can manage at first."

"You're probably right, Master Parrel, and you are the expert in such matters. Perhaps I should take the time now to talk to you about coke production, and how a full-scale blast furnace would look?"

She led them to the blackboard and, wiping away the previous drawings of a paper plant, proceeded to show them how to make coke in enclosed metal containers, drawing off the gas as a by-product. She didn't know how gas was stored, but she vaguely knew it was held in great bellows-like tanks until needed. Next to it she drew a cross-section of a blast-furnace, this one exciting many comments from the metalsmiths surrounding the group.

"This pipe at the back, Mistress," someone commented, "which you say provides air to burn the impurities out of the iron. For a furnace of such a huge size, you would need enormous bellows!"

"We used bellows at first, but there are better ways, one of which might be a fan. A simple rotary fan," she drew one in the corner of the board, "can be driven by a watermill, or by any other means, since it is just a turning shaft, like so. Much easier to arrange than having bellows go up and down, and probably less wear."

"As you say, Mistress."

"I like it," Parrel mused. "And, by a strange coincidence, these fans might later be driven by these mysterious engines you talked about? Which means, we wouldn't have to build the furnace near a river?"

She smiled at him. "Exactly, Master Parrel. But, you'd probably need some kind of access to water in any case, wherever you built the furnace. Canals to bring raw materials from the mines and to take the finished products away." She considered. "For your experimental furnace, you could probably build one of these about three or four strides high, that should be big enough as a proof of concept. A full size one could be ten, fifteen, twenty strides high."

Parrel looked at the board. "Indeed, Mistress. I have my design. You have told us how to provide the materials needed to fill the furnace. I shall instruct my guild in these matters, and we shall start work immediately." He gave her a warm smile. "All Alaesia cannot thank you enough for what you have told us, Mistress."

Tanon looked glum. "I'd better order some more wagons, then. And," he hesitated. "I think you'd better tell me more about these canals of yours."

"There are canals all over Palarand, Tanon," Parrel told him.

"Not, I think, used the way the mistress implies they are used on her own world," Tanon replied. "Our canals are mostly drainage channels, after all."

"You're right, Master Tanon," she said. "You see, it's like this..."

By the time she had finished describing the barges used to transport goods during the early days of the Industrial Revolution, Tanon looked even more glum.

"I understand, now. Mistress, we customarily use barges on the rivers of North Palarand, especially the Palar of course. Using them on the kind of canals you describe is unknown to us. I shall need to employ someone proficient in boat-building as well, I see," he said. "I do not know sufficient about boats!"

"Master Tanon," Garia told him, "Don't forget, once a barge is built it can also be used for carrying heavy produce as well, or any of the other things you use wagons for. All you need is a large enough canal to get it close to the delivery point."

Tanon brightened up at that.

After steam engines naturally comes railroads, she thought. How is Tanon going to adapt to those? Is he going to become Anmar's first railroad baron? Hmm. Let's get steel production started first.