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The racer’s legs were positioned in front of and behind her belly—perhaps that was the right way to put it—and were folded on the floor.
They should have chairs for the different kinds of people who come here.
“Aren’t you uncomfortable, sitting like that?” Cow Girl asked.
“Hmm? Ah…,” the lightning-eyed woman replied, shifting ever so slightly. “Just a little, I suppose.”
“I’m sure they used to have seats for centaurs…,” Guild Girl said hesitantly, her eyes darting around the restaurant. They could see birdfolk who found the backs of the chairs a challenge for their wings and other padfoots who struggled with where to put their tails.
“Supposedly, having padfoots use special chairs would constitute discrimination,” Female Merchant broke in. “Of course, everyone has their differences. It seems there’s much hand-wringing these days.”
“I’m sure sooner or later, people are going to claim it’s inhumane to make centaurs race,” said the racer. “Even though we enjoy it.” She snorted. Horses could be moody creatures. Were centaurs the same? Obviously still angry, the racer rested her chin in her hands (not very good manners) and complained, “‘Don’t do this! Do that! Be considerate of this!’ It’s gotten suffocating in the capital lately.”
“Things are a bit smoother in the water town. They have the archbishop overseeing things,” Guild Girl said, trying to bring some levity back to the conversation by bringing up her colleague.
“She understands that human laws are imperfect,” added Female Merchant. “Or at least, that’s my colleague’s interpretation.”
They talked of adventures; they talked of the world; they talked of veritably everything. Cow Girl often found she didn’t follow.
But maybe this would be a good idea?
Chairs for centaurs. Not so much chairs but cushions? They could make them at home, sell them themselves. All right, it wouldn’t be easy, but… Hmm.
She was thinking it over when her gaze met the racer’s.
“Incidentally,” the centaur said, her eyes shining, “aren’t you going to buy a dress or something?”
“Er… Maybe not…” Cow Girl scratched her cheek so as not to show she was a bit embarrassed and shook her head. “I’m not really… I mean, I don’t know much about fashion.”
“Let me come and direct you!”
“…Are you sure?”
“Sure as sure can be!” The racer nodded firmly. Then she took the hesitant young lady’s hand and gave her a winning smile. “Nothing in the Four-Cornered World is more important than having fun together!”
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“Kinda…suffocating, huh?”
“Definitely…”
High Elf Archer and Priestess made their way through the throngs, glancing at each other and nodding their agreement.
It wasn’t that there had been any specific trouble. Priestess didn’t even have her chain mail to worry about like she had last time. Indeed, the two young ladies were enjoying themselves immensely, taking in the sight of the capital in the grip of tournament fever.
Technically, their most important objective was to find flowers or candy to use as an offering, but be that as it may, for all intents and purposes, they were right in the middle of a festival. You didn’t have to be a wonder-struck high elf to enjoy that—just a young woman with an open heart.
There was food of every kind, from grilled apples to the cooked meat of creatures from foreign lands. This being a tournament, there were books featuring compilations of the stories of famous and capable knights.
“I think we’d better buy one,” High Elf Archer said. “Since we’re going to see them fight and all!”
“Yes… Since we’ve come all this way!”
Since we’ve come all this way: a phrase as potent as any wizard’s words of true power. They purchased one of the crudely printed volumes and started flipping through it, making sounds of amazement at the crests and the histories of the knights.
There were a great many traveling knights these days; the capital had attracted quite a few who had gone from place to place, plying their trade. They weren’t the knights-errant of the days of old, but those lordless warriors were one of the templates for today’s adventurers.
Still…
Knights… Wow…
It seemed that the female knight whom Priestess so respected wasn’t going to be part of this tournament. Maybe because finding armor, getting a horse, and caring for the same was a great deal of trouble. Supporting all that on an adventurer’s income, even one who earned well, would not be easy.
Priestess pictured herself on horseback as she rode to her next goblin hunt and giggled. It was fun adventuring with that centaur, but I don’t know…
They went along, gawking and chatting, and nothing remarkable happened. Eventually, among the other attractions, High Elf Archer spotted one particular stall.
“Oh my gosh! Look at that! Do you see that?”
Her eyes had alighted on a hat made of wool. She beckoned Priestess over, and the young cleric trotted up and looked at the item. “Wow! Is this…a helmet?”
Indeed: Packed into the shop were hats of every description, from every place and era. There were bowl-shaped helmets, exotic pieces with huge crests, and even some with protruding visors. There were horned helmets from the north—that put a smile on Priestess’s face. Yes, that was what their headwear looked like up there. As an adventurer, she’d seen her fair share of armor shops, and this place had made some impressive replicas.
“Why not cheer on your favorite knight at the tournament wearing one of these?” said the stall owner, picking up one of the hats and showing how its visor could be moved up and down. “To be fair, there are no eyeholes, so you won’t see much. Pull it down to your mouth and your whole head might stay warm, though.”
“Wow!” said Priestess. She’d resolved not to spend frivolously, but she couldn’t suppress a thrill just seeing it. Maybe it was the effect of the festival, of the joyous day.
The Earth Mother says to be frugal, but she doesn’t say to not have fun.
Maybe she could buy just one hat…
“Oh!”
As she was looking, one helmet in particular caught her eye. Not because there was anything special about it. In fact, it looked like a helmet you might find anywhere…
“Looks a bit like Orcbolg’s, doesn’t it?”
“It sure does!”
High Elf Archer giggled, the sound like a bell jingling somewhere in her throat.
Well—as the expression went—since they’d come all this way. Maybe they should pick up a couple of these, too. The two of them laughed and nodded at each other.
“Pleasure doing business!” the shopkeeper said.
The hats cost several silver pieces each. During her days at the temple, Priestess could never have afforded it, but now she could.
And I even got a matching pair with my friend!
That thought alone was enough to make her heart dance.
“C’mon, let’s wear ’em!”
“Er… Sure…”
She couldn’t help feeling a touch of embarrassment at that suggestion. She was, after all, currently wearing her cleric’s vestments. To trade her cap for a weird hat…
I feel like that might be enjoying myself a little too much.
She couldn’t shake the sense—although she did want to put on her new hat.
“I think maybe…I’ll wait and enjoy it during the big show.”
“Aw, you don’t have to be embarrassed!” High Elf Archer winked. She’d seen straight through Priestess.
The cleric looked at the headwear in her hands.
Well… I did come all this way…
To wear or not to wear? While the human was still deliberating, the elf was already moving. She somehow managed to squeeze her long ears into the woven hat.
“How do I look?!” she asked, her eyes sparkling.
“Like a very wonderful elf knight…at least from the neck up.”
“Yeah, well, armor’s so heavy. Ha! I’m no Orcbolg, you know!”
She did admit, however, that it pinched her ears a little bit. Then she set off in high spirits.