Chapter 22

So, the next day they all went round to the castle for lunch. They were greet- what? What is that you are clamoring? Hardcase? You want to know how she did in her trials? She lost. So, they were greeted at the door of the castle by the factotum, who instruct- what? Details? Very well. I will tell you exactly what happened to Hardcase.

Hardcase was out of her league. They quickly retired the middle range of scholars, and sent in children, children of nine and ten years of age, to match learning against her. She was shot down even when they lobbed easy multiple choice questions at her. You see, she hadn't read the books. At home she was breaking tests, but here, she hadn't read any of the books that passed for knowledge and wisdom. She knew no trivia, and even the simplest history, geography, literature, was beyond her. She didn't know the equivelant of see spot run. It was very embarassing. Even if she knew more and better science than they, they knew the author and title and page number their rediculous falacies were printed on, where she could only make assertions which had no backing, as true and outragious sounding to the Treyburrians though they were. A Madwoman is how she came across. Oh, they were polite about it, but they still gave her a ranking of utter novice. She was humiliated.

So, the factotum instructed them in the informal protocol of a luncheon with Their Majesties, including that Hardcase had to dine in the kitchen with the chambermaids. Too low caste to mix with her betters, you see. And there was no changing category, for her, She had to challange within her own catagory. It wasn't as bad as all that, there were only three thousand books or so in all. She probably could have been top scholar in a month or so. But in the meantime ... She didn't know weather to be depressed, or pissed. Axorie insisted on 'eating' lunch with Hardcase and the maids- it being the perogotive of imaginary beings and goddesses to do whatever they wanted. That is just another way of saying, you couldn't stop them anyway. Like the royal decree that "A cat may stare at a king" being an acknowledgement that the cat would do just as it pleased with or without permission. A good leader knows how to lead by commanding people to do what they were just about to do anyway. What really galled, was that Patches and Mr. Bigfoot were invited to dine with Their Majesties- after all, they were Top Caste. If Their Majesties had wanted to invite a person of middle caste, they could have, but it was unheard of to invite an utter novice into the Royal Presence. Poor Hardcase, such an Ego Blow. Her very self-identity was brought to question. She came across as a very tough and dangerous individual to the maids.

The others 'enjoyed' a very stuffy informal luncheon, with special utensils and several courses. They were very glad it hadn't been a formal dinner! (actualy, a formal dinner would have involved much drinking, boasting, and throwing of bones onto straw-covered floors to induce hounds to fight. There would have been entertainment and canoodling.) The small band of adventurers did find out about a small Quest, the sommelier had eloped with the Queen's favorite mare, and as long as the mare was happy, it was all well and good, but the mare had been wearing a magical golden bridle, could they fetch it back, and the mare if she was regretting her impetuous romance and wanted to come home. That seemed like a small and worthy quest, well within their abilitys, so they agreed to try. The couple was thought to be on their honeymoon in the next kingom to the north, in a village called Quantis. Steetch asked if they were upset that the mare had run off, and the Queen laughed and said she wouldn't stand in the way of true love. The apprentice drover had stepped in, and things were running smoothly. Just the bridle, not the bride, unless she was unhappy.