W hile Peredur pondered the politics of Prydain, and Beli Mawr plotted the destruction of the Beast, Etlym entertained Aldris's lovely leonine daughters. The girls were clearly impressed with the slim faced “lad” who was as comfortable around horses as they were. They had cornered the object of their affections, and were furtively inching closer and closer, like a pair of felines advancing on a choice morsel. Arianwen did not mind playing the role of big brother for she truly was fond of the girls. She tried to ignore the fact that she could tell the glances she was getting from the maidens were anything but sisterly! I must be careful of their feelings, she thought, but she didn't think there was any harm in flattering them with courtly words. I remember both of you very well, she thought with an inward smile. Chelinde, you used to help me sneak back and forth between here and the Women's Hall, when I was younger. I wasn't supposed to be learning how to do anything more complicated than make a palfrey prance in a procession, but you and I managed to convince your father to show me the same things my brothers were learning. Sangive, you weren't old enough at the time to do much more than drool and giggle. Aldris would put you in a baby sack and carry you on his back. You used to pull his hair and shriek with glee when he would jump his horse over the hurdles. And your mother used to shriek too…albeit for different reasons! "Are all men in the South clean-shaven as you are?" Chelinde asked, gazing up with adoring eyes at what she believed to be a handsome young man. "Many are, yes, but some do still wear a beard. Many lords also keep their hair cut short, in the fashion of the Romans," Arianwen replied, in her best boy's tenor. She puffed her chest out like a bullfrog, imitating how she'd seen a younger Gawain behave when he was trying to impress the fairer sex. "I don't think I'd like to kiss a man with a beard," Sangive said, with a dismissive sniff. "I think I should scratch myself raw on all those bristles. I would prefer a man with smooth skin." She was bolder than her sister, so she reached out to touch Etlym's cheek. With a start, the disguised princess drew away, giving the impression of a flustered lad. Perhaps I've flattered them a bit too much!, she thought. Best I start acting cooler before one of them gets the notion to run her fingers through Etlym's hair! "You're shy!" the girls crowed, and dissolved into another fit of giggles. "I expect," Arianwen said, once she had recovered, "that your noble mother thinks that you are not old enough to kiss any man, bearded or not!" "I am perfectly old enough, no matter what my mother may say!" Sangive retorted with a toss of her golden hair. "What do you say, Etlym? Do you think I'm old enough for a proper kiss?" She eyed "him" speculatively, as if she intended to start experimenting right that very minute. Arianwen edged away. She could feel drops of sweat pricking on the back of her neck. "I think that your father would make a tent out of the hide of any man who thought about kissing either one of you. So, please be merciful to me, for I do not wish to spend the rest of my days as a tent!" The girls laughed at that, and Chelinde gave her forward sibling a repressive glower. "Will you come riding with us later on today, Etlym?" she continued, looking hopeful. "I doubt it, Lady," Arianwen replied. "Though it would not be for dislike of your company. I am sworn to always be at my lord's side, and I am sure he has business to attend to." And besides, I ride much as you all do, and I fear I would have a difficult time trying to explain how a traveling page handles a horse like a Sarmatian! Two faces full of tragic disappointment looked back at her. "Surely your lord can take care of himself for at least an hour!" Chelinde said with a huff. "Unless he is clumsy or slow-witted?" "My lord is not clumsy nor slow-witted and indeed he can see to his own needs if the situation calls for it. But it is for my benefit as much as his," Arianwen replied, giving the standard servant's answer. "In addition to serving him, I am to pay attention to how he behaves, so I will learn how a proper nobleman is to act." "Does your lord train you in the use of arms as well?" asked Sangive, with interest. "I see that you are carrying a sword. Please demonstrate for us how you would slay a fearsome foe!" "Oh, yes, please do!" Chelinde chimed in. Their young "squire" protested, with upraised hands. "I think your mother would disapprove of such, and your father would likely evict me from your home if he caught me waving a blade about in the presence of his precious daughters." There was more than modesty behind her reluctance. She felt that she was not good with a sword at all. Because of her slender build, she preferred a bow and arrow for combat. "Mother has gone back to the stables with Father, so she isn't here to disapprove," said Sangive, glad to be rid of parental supervision. "And besides, wouldn't your lord be cross with you, for not honoring a lady's request?" Chelinde added, with a sly grin, ignoring her sister's mutterings about her lack of ladylike qualities. "I did think all men who aspired to be called gentle would always be kind and never refuse a lady anything." "I would never refuse the request of a lady, so long as it was a reasonable one," Arianwen answered, looking at the girls from beneath a sober brow. "If I was asked to jump off a cliff, well, then one would just have to call me ungentle." Instead of quelling the girls' enthusiasm, her comment only made them giggle more, and gradually, they wore down Arianwen's resistance, until she finally agreed. She withdrew the gladius from its sheath and squared off against a nearby fence post. She moved through the basic motions of attack and defense that she learned from Peredur. Chelinde and Sangive applauded and looked suitably impressed, so she decided to add in some flourishes and feints. She ended with a final thrust to the imaginary foe's heart, which she was pleased that she accomplished without her arm trembling. "Well done, Etlym!" said the adoring coterie, and the disguised princess hastily put the blade away, before the girls could demand another demonstration. "Tell us more about the Pictish princess!" Aldris's daughters were determined to get as much amusement as possible out of their new toy before Sir Percival came along to snatch it away. Arianwen gave a colorful account of her encounter with Derelei in the forest, finishing with, "The Pretani would have had an easier time dressing one of their shaggy, red cows in royal finery and calling her Princess," she said, speaking of the painted girl as she thought a man might. The girls howled with mirth at that, and Sangive shyly continued, "So...this Derelei didn't turn your head, then, fair Etlym?" "My head, no! My stomach? Yes." She gave me a bloody nose when I was just trying to save her life!, Arianwen's mind snorted, still reluctant to forgive the Pictish girl for that. A screech heralded the arrival of the merlin Symril, with Peredur following close behind. Arianwen held up her arm, and the falcon lightly landed upon it. "I expect you want your breakfast, my lady?" She reached into the wallet that she carried with her and took out a piece of meat. She gave it to the little falcon, and she gulped it down. The girls admired the merlin. Sangive drew closer; she reached out to stroke Symril's neck. Her huge golden eyes shimmered as she dared to ask, "Then...is there any particular girl that does turn good Etlym's head?" Now, how am I to answer that? Arianwen thought, feeling a bit queasy. No matter what I tell them, it is sure to get me in some sort of trouble! And they are at the age where words can hurt more than the thrust of a blade! "That is a bold question," she said, taking refuge in small talk, while she thought of a suitable reply. "But I think a fair one, and it deserves a fair answer. Listen and I'll tell you." The girls drew close, and Arianwen spoke softly to them. "It is important for a woman to learn to think for herself, so that she does not have to place her fate in the hands of others. No matter if she be of royal birth or not, she should always think of others before herself and do her best to better the lives of those around her." As she spoke, her voice grew in confidence as she slipped into the familiar role of teacher. "That is one thing that I must say about Derelei…despite all of her snapping, she was very brave in the forest. She did the best that she could in a difficult situation. I could tell that she truly cared for her countryman who was wounded for her sake. Instead of losing her head and acting in a useless manner, she took the time to tend his wounds. That proves that, despite her rough exterior, that she has a good heart. And that, in my opinion, is far more important than pretty manners and a trunk full of the finest silks and jewels," Arianwen said. "So you do like her!" Savgive interrupted with an indignant huff. "No," Arianwen gently corrected her. "I like certain things about her, as I like certain things about both of you. For example, in the short time that I have been here, I can tell that both of you are kind, helpful and hard-working. I have every expectation that you will grow up to be as wise and noble as your mother. Do your best at every task given to you, be it small or great. Learn everything you can about the world beyond these timbered walls. If your father offers you a gift, ask for learning instead of shiny baubles. Knowledge will serve you well, for despite what some men may tell you, they are just as likely to make stupid mistakes, lie, scheme, gossip and bear tales, and behave in a completely idiotic manner as women are. It is best not to be too dependent on them." She waited for the snickers to subside and continued, "Though a woman may be beautiful, as both of you are, she should learn not to solely rely on her beauty to advance her position. For I assure you, a mind lasts far longer than a fair face and figure. Always remember that a brave heart and a sound mind go further in winning admiration than silly words and feminine artifice. If you are true to yourself and are always honest and forthright, you will win the respect not only of young men, but of kings and queens as well. For a woman with those qualities is worth far more than the most precious of rubies, and any man with any sense would be proud and honored to have someone like that by his side." The girls stood still and listened carefully to every word. By the time Arianwen finished speaking, their eyes were wide and shining. But neither of them said a word for a long time. "You're very strange, Etlym," Sangive finally said into the silence, thoughtfully nibbling on her bottom lip. "Was that not what you were expecting to hear?" Arianwen asked with concern. Perhaps I should have stuck with a silly answer about the kind of girls that Elidyr is always making up songs about...the ones with bright eyes and red lips. I do hope I didn't give myself away, for I don't expect a man would admit that his kind can act like fools! she silently fretted. "No, it's not that. You speak wisely, and I would like to be a brave girl who thinks for herself, as you described. Mother also speaks of some of the same things as you," said Sangive. "Although she would never admit that men are idiots at times, though we womenfolk all know it! You're strange because sometimes you don't talk like a servant at all." "Well, I have heard it told that I am forward for a servant, and that my master should box my ears more often," Arianwen replied, with an inward sigh of relief. She looked over to see Peredur leaning against a fence post and watching them with a funny little smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He was looking upon Etlym with a far different pair of eyes than those of Aldris’s daughters. "No, my lord!" cried Sangive, once she caught sight of Peredur. She shook her finger at him as if he were a naughty colt. "You cannot have your Etlym back! My sister and I are resolved to keep him." And with that, she launched herself at Arianwen. Before the disguised girl could escape, Sangive playfully threw her arms around her waist and hugged her fiercely. Arianwen flushed as scarlet as the livery she wore and frantically hoped the girl would not notice that she was a bit softer in places than a boy should be! “Now ladies, I am sure your father wishes a better man that the likes of scrawny Etlym for you,” Arianwen protested, holding Symril aloft with one arm, and frantically trying to extricate herself, before one of the clever maidens saw through her disguise. “Why you saw how I got pushed around by Cryf earlier! Who could let his daughter marry someone who cannot manage a vain and self-centered stallion!” Peredur could not help himself and he started laughing at the sight of the Sarmatian maids clinging to a flustered Etlym. She was bobbing up and down like a coracle in a stormy sea as she tried to escape from the girls, without hurting their feelings. Symril was happily screeching and energetically flapping her wings. He pretended to ignore his page’s pointed look, which clearly said: You could HELP you know!