Just before noon the door to their cell was unlocked. Guards bound their hands again, and marched them out of the prison through an internal door into the palace. They walked through several long, deserted corridors before reaching the audience chamber. There was a short line of people waiting for their chance to put a plea to the king, as well as two other groups under guard – a boy not long into adolescence, and two men and a woman.    
The two officers from the recruitment tent were already there waiting; the older sergeant glared daggers at the women as they stopped beside them at the end of the line. His young associate, as far as it could be ascertained through the swelling of his nose, just looked scared of what would happen if his partner’s lie was revealed to the King. The people filed forwards slowly as the king heard each case and petition and, after some time spent staring at the corridor’s thick blue carpet, they were called in.
‘A case brought by Sergeant Smithe and Sergeant Thomas of His Majesty’s army against twelve women of Olat town. The allegations are; assault, threatening behaviour, and disturbance of the peace.’ A herald in green and gold livery announced as the group entered. ‘The last case today.’ The herald bowed and left.
They all bowed deeply and stayed bent until a deep voice commanded them to rise.
    
King Alan the third was a young and vibrant man with only twenty-five winters to his name. He was, in general, fair and level headed; though sometimes the spark of youth overcame his better judgement. His people respected him, even though most would not have recognised his handsome, tanned face on the streets.
   At his request, the soldiers explained their version of the previous night’s events, which omitted their remarks about the brothel and made it seem that Gwendoline’s arrow had presented a real danger to their safety, while Pelana’s attack had been unprovoked and had stemmed from anger at not being allowed to enlist. However, they could not deny that they had denied the women places in the army based on their gender and appearance.
  King Alan listened carefully, and then spoke.
'I cannot deny that these women would attract interest, yet surely the men in my service have more self-control than to cause a riot fighting over their affections. Do you think otherwise?'
‘No, no sire.’ Thomas said nervously.
The King turned his attention to the twelve friends. ‘Explain your actions. If you have anything to say in your defence, say it now.’
Pelana spoke up. ‘Your majesty, I must protest at the account you’ve just heard. Firstly, Gwendoline’s little stunt, unwise as it may have been, presented no danger. She is one of the finest archers I know, and would not have missed her mark.
‘My own actions were provoked by remarks which these men made, suggesting that my friends and I were whores, and that the best way we could aid the army would be by working in one of the brothels. I warned Sergeant Smithe after his first such comments that I would not tolerate further insults. When he smeared our character again I confess that I hit him, just as I had warned him I would. Sergeant Thomas attempted to arrest me for assault, but my friends would not allow it. He then called the guard and had all of us arrested.
‘In addition, we were told that, not only could we not join the army, but that this was due to your own orders, given to prevent trouble in the ranks over personal relationships. Please, sire, did you give such an order?’
‘Indeed I did not.’ The king fixed the men with a steely glare. ‘Did you make such remarks against the good character of these women? Did you claim to be acting on my orders?’
Smithe spoke up; ‘I did insult their character, sire, and I apologise. And Sergeant Thomas did say he was acting on your orders, sire.’ Thomas suddenly looked both furious and worried. This was not going as planned.
‘You were wrong to speak slanderously, and that reflects poorly on your own character.’ The young king said to Smithe. The pimply sergeant hung his head. King Alan turned to Thomas.
‘In addition, I do not appreciate having words put into my mouth. We need every willing recruit we can find. I dread to think how many others you may have discouraged and turned away.’ King Alan’s voice was suddenly cold and his eyes were hard as flint. The army men shifted uncomfortably; the younger of them looking paler than ever, except for his swollen nose, in the face of the King’s wrath.
'Err… well, um, sorry...' Thomas faltered. His red face bore an expression of extreme embarrassment and worry, and he was almost willing to recruit the women and be done with it, if only he could get away from that stare. Then a vindictive thought popped into his head.
'Begging your pardon Majesty, for saying you’d said something you hadn’t, but we don't know that any of them can shoot, sire, and I only said it to try to stop dead weight getting into your army.'
‘Is that not why soldiers are trained? To teach them how to fight?’ King Alan asked pointedly.
‘Ahh….’ Thomas squirmed under the icy grip of the stare.
The king thought for a moment and then rose from his seat.
'Untie their hands; they are guilty of no crime.’ The guards quickly did as he ordered, much to the women’s relief.
‘As to places in the army; it is unfair to test some and not others, and I would prefer this to be fair. However, if you ladies have no objections, and you still wish to volunteer, then your archery skills will be tested, in order for me to remove the last of this man’s excuses.'
The women gave their assent and several guards were sent to find their bows. King Alan left the audience chamber while their belongings were brought, and they waited in the audience chamber, pointedly ignoring the two sergeants. Relieved of the threat of the charges, they talked quietly amongst themselves.  
'This test is exactly what we need. We know we can pass pretty much any archery test they throw at us; all we have to do is prove it.’ Liana said.
‘How I’d love to prove those two wrong!' Sarah laughed.
‘Just imagine the targets are Smithe's face, then you'll hit for sure!' Morgana teased.
'Why, thank you Morgana!' Pelana grinned, ‘I’m sure that’s advice that we can all aspire to!’

   In the wide training field behind the palace, various targets were set out in patterns and lines. With their quivers strapped on, bows in hand, the women walked confidently onto the field, escorted by half a dozen guards.
   King Alan was seated on a carved oak chair on a raised platform so that he could easily look out over the grass. Smithe and Thomas stood at his feet, looking hopeful that the friends would fail.
Quickly they strung their bows, stretched their muscles and waited for their instructions.
'The challenge you have been set is to prove yourselves worthy of a place in Jarda's army, and thereby prove that Sergeant Thomas treated you unjustly. If you have any skill at arms, you should not find it an unreasonable test.' the king said sonorously, his deep voice rolling out to them. 'There are two stages to this test. Firstly; you must each in turn shoot ten arrows into a target from a distance of 60 yards.' he indicated the line of targets immediately to his right. 'Then you must repeat this feat at 100 yards.’ He gestured to a second row of targets further down the field. ‘Good luck to all of you.'
      They lined up in front of the first row of round targets and took their shots. Straight and true they struck deep into the centres of the targets. Rowena scowled at her target before launching her arrows viciously hard towards it. Evidently she had taken Morgana’s joke to heart.
‘Well, I believe you all passed that test without a single fault. Quite astounding! Are there any arrows not within the inner circle?’ asked King Alan. A guard examined the targets closely and shook his head. ‘Very good, very good. On to the next test.’
The women retrieved their arrows from the closer set of targets and walked to face the furthest row of bosses. At this distance, they all knew, the wind would be an important factor in their shooting. Luckily, there was little wind on the field, and they took up their stances with confidence. Arrow after arrow made its hissing, curving flight through the air and struck accurately into the distant targets.
King Alan waited for a guard to walk out to the targets and check their true accuracy, but he could see from his seat that their aim was good, and he was already smiling.
‘Every shaft is within the inner two rings, sire!’ the guard yelled from the other end of the field. The two sergeants looked sick, and the king smiled even more broadly.       
    There was a brief pause while the friends’ arrows were brought back to them, then:
‘I have made my decision.’ declared the King of Jarda. ‘Based on your performances here today I will say this: your archery is faultless; I wish that I had a whole army who were so good. My decision is this; you may join the army as archers. You should have been allowed to sign up immediately, but you were unlucky that the officers on duty were bigots.’ he said.
The women looked at each other and silently celebrated. The king watched them with amusement.
‘I haven’t finished yet. You will need close combat skills. I want you to train with swords at the camp. Join in with the new recruits training, or find someone willing to teach you.’ He paused for a moment longer, partly to reassure himself that he was not about to make a mistake. His next decision was highly unorthodox.
‘However, if you are willing to go through further trials to do so, you could also apply for a commission of sorts.’
‘What do you mean by “of sorts”, sire?’ asked Rowena, a little suspiciously. ‘Forgive my impertinence, but surely one is either an officer or one is not?’
‘Indeed, but this is a commission beyond all others, not merely a rank of the army. In these dangerous times, I have been considering reviving an old tradition. I intend to name a small group of my best troops as my personal unit, my King’s Guard, to undertake special errands and secret, subtle work.’
At the name of the King’s Guard, Aradia looked shocked. The forming of the Guard was an ancient custom, but such a group had not been named in living memory.
‘Ah, I see that at least one among you knows of this tradition.’ The King continued, looking pleased. ‘I meant to choose these men and women as they distinguished themselves from the ranks, and join them together myself, but you are already a group bound by friendship and I believe this will make you stronger. This is not a common rank, but nor is it an easy one. You will need to undergo further, far more difficult trials, but I offer you the chance to prove worthy of being named as my Guard.’ The forest women looked at their king, thunderstruck.

King Alan looked away from their amazed faces, giving them a few moments to consider, and turned to Smithe and Thomas, who were looking both horrified by this turn of events and jealous of the twelve friends.
‘Sergeant Thomas, your excuses have been proved false, and I have not forgotten how you lied in my name. For this I declare you demoted to the rank of ordinary soldier and a fine of three gold marks will be deducted from your pay.’ He had named a moderate sum, but on an ordinary soldier’s pay of four silver pennies a month it would put him back six months wages. ‘Sergeant Smithe, your father is a well respected Captain, and your actions here were not worthy of his blood line. You may keep your rank, but you will also pay the fine, to remind you to keep a civil tongue in your head, and not to allow unjust decisions to go unchallenged.’
   Knowing they were beaten, the two soldiers bowed and allowed themselves to be escorted away by four guards.

  The king turned back to the group of women. ‘Now, there are no set trials for the appointment of the Guard, but I have a few things in mind. If you are ready and willing, the tests will begin tomorrow. Time is precious.’
Pelana answered on behalf of them all; eager for the chance they were being given. ‘Sire, we will be ready whenever we have to be.’
‘Excellent, return at the third hour tomorrow and you will be told the details of your trials. For now, rest. A night in jail under an uncertain fate cannot be favourable to sleep.’
The friends bowed low to their king and followed a guard who guided them away.