Chicks in Chainmail Read Online Free PDF

noticed the size of the rings necessary to fit over her massive knuckles.
    "We only want to do our duty, Sire," she said.
    "Both for the protection of the realm, and in the gentler duties of maternity. And in fact, had it not been for the tax, we might never have discovered the clear superiority of this method. Even with armor, we had all suffered painful and sometimes dangerous injuries, not to mention the inevitable embarrassment of disrobing in front of male soldiers while on campaign. Now—our precious nurturing ability stays safely hidden away, and we are free to devote our skills to your service, while, when off-duty, we can enjoy our protected attributes without concern for their safety."
    "But—how many times do you intend to switch back and forth?"
    "Only when necessary." Sophora Segundiflora smiled placidly. "I assure you, we all take our responsibilities seriously, Sire. All of them."
    "It was the tax, you say?" the king said. He glanced at the queen. He was remembering her relationship to the chancellor.
    "We'd never have thought of it, if you hadn't imposed that tax," Sophora said. "We owe you thanks for that, Sire. Of course, it wouldn't be practical without the military's medical assistance program, but—"
    "But it can't go on," the king said. "Didn't you hear me? You're not paying the tax. You're spending all my money on this unnecessary wizardry. You're bankrupting the system. We can't spend it all on you. We have the prince's own plastic wizardry needs, and the expenses of state visits .…"
    "Well." Sophora looked at Mirabel as if she were uncertain. "I suppose… it's not in the contract or anything, but of course we're very sorry about the prince—"
    "Get to the point, woman," said the queen. Sophora gave the queen the benefit of her smile, and Mirabel was glad to see the queen turn pale.
    "As long as the tax remains in effect, there's simply nothing else we can do," Sophora said, looking past the king's left ear. She took a deep bread) that strained the shoulders of her professional robe. "On the other hand, if the tax were rescinded, it's just possible the ladies would agree to return to the less efficient and fundamentally unsafe practice of wearing armor over their… er… original equipment, as a service to the realm." She smiled even more sweetly, if possible. "But of course, Sire, it's up to you."
    "You mean, if I rescind the tax, you'll go back to wearing armor over your own… er…"
    "Bosoms," offered the chancellor. The king glared at him, happy to find someone else to glare at.
    "I am quite capable of calling a bosom a breast," he said. "And it was on advice from your accounting division that I got into this mess." He turned back to Sophora. "If I rescind the tax, you'll quit having these expensive wizardry reversals?"
    "Well, we'll have to put it to a vote, but I expect that our proven loyalty to your majesty will prevail."
    "Fine, then," the king said. The queen stirred on her throne, and he glared at her. "Don't say a word," he warned. "I'm not about to lose more money because of any parchment-rolling accountants or Milquetoast chaplains. No more tax on women's armor."
    "I shall poll the ladies at once, Sire," said Sophora. "But you need not worry."
    "About that" growled the king. "But there's still an enormous shortfall. We'll have to find the money somewhere. And soon. The prince must have his spells renewed—"
    "Ahem." Sophora glanced over her shoulder, and the wizard stepped forward. "As earnest of our loyalty, Sire, the Ladies' Aid & Armor Society would like to assist with that project." She waved the wizard to the fore.
    "Well?" the long asked.
    "Sire, my latest researchers have revealed new powers which might be of service. It seems that the later-ally-reposed interface of the multidimensional—"
    "His new black box came with some free spell-ware," Sophora interrupted before the king's patience shattered.
    "Not exactly free ," said the wizard. "But in essence, yes, new spells.