The Frugal Wizard's Handbook for Surviving Medieval England

by Brandon Sanderson

“You’re a good tree. Tall, thick—and most importantly—wooden. Four and a half stars. Would hide behind you again. Half a point off for lack of refreshments.”

It was time to make my move. Like the old saying goes. Carp diem. Seize the fish.

Yes, this knowledge is often attached to the arcane or unseen in the stories—but what is magic but a science not yet discovered?

“I do not have feminine hands,” I said to her. “You say that like it’s an insult,” she said. “Some of us think women are more than just men who didn’t quite grow big enough.” Damn. “I respect women,” I said. “I regularly wear a pink ribbon in October to advance breast cancer awareness.”

“I’ve ridden on the Wild Hunt,” I responded, “and once crossed the sky on a rainbow made solid. But those both involved aelef mounts—which handle like the wind. This beast does not seem to…respect me.”

Horses were less the thundering creatures of pounding hoofbeats and unparalleled speed found in movies and more like golf carts that ran on a tank of grass and occasionally bit you.

“Wyrd,” she said. “Fate or luck or… It’s not really either, but…how do you not know any of this? Where are you from?” “Seattle.” I glanced at her. “We don’t have many Anglo-Saxons there. Good coffee, though. And great bookstores.