“Someone shot at Her Royal Highness,” the captain said, his mouth set in a grim line.
“It has been more than that.” J.T. knew that he could trust this man. Perhaps because they were descended from the same warrior stock, but J.T. knew he could trust this man with his life. He told him that someone had tried to kill Aria in America. He told of the other attempts on her life and J.T. could feel the captain’s growing anger.
“We have been told nothing of this,” the older man seethed. “In the past hundred years we have been relegated to doing nothing but opening and closing doors. Our king may have forgotten our true use, but we have not. We are ready to lay down our lives for our king and his two granddaughters.”
“And the rest of them be hanged,” J.T. said. “I agree with you. I want her watched every minute of every day. I wish there were women who could stay with her in her bedroom. I don’t trust any of those women with her now.”
“Perhaps there is someone. Come with me.”
J.T. was reluctant to leave Aria alone with those half-naked men but he followed the captain.
“There was a time,” the captain said as they walked, “when Lanconian warriors were the finest in the world. Over the centuries most of the people have turned to farming but a few of us have kept the tradition of training. We are not as much in favor now since Lanconia has been declared a neutral country.”
They turned a curve in the path and rounded a grove of trees. Opening before them was a small clearing and here ten women wearing white, draped garments that reached only to the tops of their magnificent legs were participating in games like the men’s.
“My God,” J.T. said with sharp intake of breath.
The captain smiled. “Centuries ago, the women were trained beside the men. Beautiful, aren’t they?”
J.T. couldn’t close his mouth as he looked at the six-foot-tall, bronzed goddesses wrestling and fighting. A whistle blew and the women lined up, and a dark-haired woman wearing a longer red garment started walking toward them.
The captain turned his back to her for a moment. “Jarnel trains the women. She is also my wife.”
J.T.’s eyes were on the woman. “No wonder you stay so fit.”
J.T. and the captain talked to Jarnel and it was agreed that, somehow, one of the guardswomen would be substituted for one of Aria’s ladies-in-waiting.
Later, as he and the captain were walking back to the men’s training ground, J.T. said, “Tell me, do the guardswomen welcome men like your men welcome the princess?”
“No,” the captain answered. “Lanconian women are pursued. They do nothing to win a man; he must go to them. Of course there have been exceptions. In Rowan’s day sometimes the women fought each other for a man. In fact, that was the case with Rowan himself.”
“You mean this Rowan I keep hearing about was the prize in a contest? Some muscular broad won him?” J.T. laughed.
“I imagine the warriors looked somewhat like our guardswomen,” the captain said mildly.
J.T. remembered the ten tall, beautiful women in the field behind him, their skin gleaming with sweat, and he stopped laughing.
It was nearly noon by the time Aria and J.T. drove off in the Cord, three carloads of guardsmen behind them in old but perfectly kept black Fords. J.T. wanted to see a vineyard. He followed the directions the captain had given him and arrived just as the workers were sitting down to their midday meal.
Aria often saw the city dwellers but these country people had too much work to do to stand in line to gawk at a pretty princess. They were stunned into speechlessness at the sight of her looking a great deal like their own daughters and sweethearts.
“Your…Your Highness,” one woman stuttered while the others stood quietly, their lunches forgotten at their feet.
“May we join you?” J.T. asked. “We brought
our own food.”
The people nodded hesitantly.
Aria followed J.T. to the trunk of the car. “We did bring food? Are you sure this is all right? They don’t seem very friendly.”
“They’re scared to death of Her Royal Highness but I bet they’ll like Mrs. Montgomery.”
He was right. It took Aria awhile to forget that she was a princess and the people a little longer to lose their awe of her, but it did happen. They ate and talked, Aria telling them about the wonders of America and the people answering J.T.’s questions about the drought and the state of the grapes.
The Lanconians were a tall, good-looking people, both men and women slim and muscular from years of going up and down steep hills carrying big baskets of produce. They planted on top of the hills and lived below in tiny villages.
Everyone worked, from toddler to ancient. Young women strapped babies to their backs and went up the hills. Quite often the men took care of the younger children and it wasn’t unusual to see a fifty-year-old man trailed by three four-year-olds.