The rules of combat 7/10

"Well blow me down," said Jennifer Jane's Dad, looking out of the kitchen window where he was washing up the breakfast dishes. Riding along the back garden towards the house was a man on horseback.

"It's Sir George," said Jennifer Jane, "I wonder what he wants and however did he get here?"

"A right mess he's made of things," the horse said, as Jennifer Jane and her Dad went out to meet them.

George dismounted, unhitched a nosebag from his saddle and slipped it over the horses' head.

"Mmff" said the horse, as his nose was buried in oats.

"Right that shuts him up," said George, "may I come in please, I've got a problem and the witches sent me here because they reckon you're the best problem solver around these parts."

"Can I help as well?" asked Dave.

"Of course, two heads are better than one."

"Would you men like a can of beer each to help with your discussion?" asked Mary.

"Not for me thanks," replied George, "I don't like this world's beer, too gassy. No offence," he added "but I'd prefer a cup of tea."

"Tea all round then," said Mary and she went off into the kitchen.

Jennifer Jane and her Father listened while George explained what had happened during his fight with the witch. Jennifer Jane spoke first.

"If you didn't have to wear your armour, wouldn't you be able to turn more quickly," she suggested.

"I think the witch would be quicker even so," said Dave "and she'd always be just out of reach. Could you show me exactly what you do when you strike?"

George stood up and demonstrated.

"I see," said Dave thoughtfully, "you can only turn half a circle because your feet have to be firmly planted on the ground to add power to the blow."

George looked thoughtful in his turn as Dave stood up.

"Now," said Dave, "if you face the witch with your left foot already turned to the left, you should be able to strike through much more than half a circle.

He demonstrated with an imaginary sword. George tried for himself. Sure enough the arc of the blow was much greater than before.

"Still no good I'm afraid, "he said, "she'd always be six inches or so beyond my reach."

Dave grinned broadly, "not if your sword became two feet longer as you turned!"

"How is that possible? the witches say the rules of engagement prevent the use of magic."

"Not magic; engineering! I'll sit down and work out something practical and give you a drawing so that your local blacksmith can make you a new sword."