It was in the year of our Lord 803 that these voyages of mine took place. I am Bradamante, a knight in the service of the Holy Roman Emperor Charlemagne. Like most knights in that age, I was very young, being no older than twenty-two years when I was sent off on that voyage. Unlike all other knights in the Frankish army, however, I am a woman.

Growing up with four brothers, and an absent mother, perhaps it is not surprising that I eventually decided to pursue such a, shall we say, masculine path of life. I enjoyed the thrill of combat, of course, as well as the great rewards and honour that victory brings, but mostly I just enjoy showing the ignorant men around me that I could beat them at their own game. In fact, I had become so good at what I did, that more than one military commander had in all earnestness asked me to leave the army, on the grounds that I was making the ‘courageous, noble, God-fearing knights of France’ look poor by comparison!

So it happened that I was – but first, I suppose I had better describe myself first? I stood almost a full six feet in height, which was taller than most of the men of that time, and I quite understood why so many of them felt intimidated by me. Despite this, I still possessed what most men would consider attractive features in a woman: long, straight, auburn hair; a well-proportioned figure; turquoise eyes – I certainly wasn’t lacking in beauty, and I was sometimes forced to use it to get what I desired.

However, neither good looks nor great competence in battle would persuade the stubborn general Lothair to keep his most skilled warrioress by his side in the Avar campaign. Instead, I, along with a company of ill-mannered, unpatriotic ‘knights’, was sent off to Portugal, to assist in the fight against the Saracen invaders. For this purpose, we were given a small galley, whose captain I at once saw to be quite inexperienced when it came to sailing the open seas, out of sight of land. Nevertheless, he was determined to take the shorter route, and we sailed from Sanctus Nazarius across the Cantabrian Sea.

Feeling quite depressed, and having no desire to socialize with the ruffians I shared this voyage with, I remained in my bunk. Once or twice I had to fend off the unwelcome advances of these louts – God only knows what the general hopes they’ll accomplish in battle - but, apart from that, the voyage remained dull and uneventful. That is, until we were hit by the storm.

To this day I believe it must have been a tempest from the gates of Hell, such was its supernatural ferocity. It struck our puny vessel with the force of a battering ram smashing down a rotten door. Half the crew were washed overboard by the first few waves, and the rest seemed content to wait it out in the cabins below deck. The captain, believing me responsible for the storm, came at me with a sword, but I was prepared and managed to disarm him. He then fell into a state of despair, sinking to his knees and calling out to God for mercy. I tried to remain calm, but my feelings grew increasingly in line with those of the captain.

The end came when the ship was caught between two waves, rushing in opposing directions, seemingly against the laws of nature. They crushed its wooden frame like an eggshell, and I managed to escape with my life, and nothing else. I was now lost in the midst of the angry waters and all my past great deeds flashed before my fading vision. At last, I could tread water no longer: my strength failed, and I went under, praying for deliverance until the last moment.

But my last moment it did not turn out to be. When my senses returned to my battered body, I felt myself to be alive, though not in any great condition. Daylight washed across my tired eyes, and I felt solid ground beneath my body. I had escaped death, no doubt through the intervention of Providence, and was most likely lying upon some beach, hopefully not too far from help.

Only a portion of my tunic remained, clinging wetly around my torso and upper legs. My shoes were gone, and so were my cloak and my weapons, which I had worn when I was swept overboard. Still, this was not a great loss, and I resolved to get up and head for the nearest town, in the hopes of finding food, and directions. But, when I tried to sit upright, I found myself tied down.

Yes, I was tied from head to toe by innumerable hairlike threads. Stranger still, I also grew aware of a myriad of voices chattering around me, though I could not turn my head to see where they came from. Taking a deep breath, I used all my strength and pushed myself up again. This time, the binding threads snapped, and I hastily pulled them off me with my freed arms. And then I saw the most startling sight I had ever beheld.

On the sands of the beach all around me, I saw an army of soldiers. They completely surrounded me, and hundreds of bows were aimed at me. But the only thing I found possible to do, was burst out into laughter. For the soldiers were each only an inch or so in height.

“Oh, dear God!” I exclaimed, as the tiny men manoeuvred around me in formation. “I must be dreaming! Come on, Bradamante, wake yourself up, and get moving!”

I slapped myself once or twice in the face, pinched myself, and bit my lower lip as hard as I could, and still the vision remained before me. By now I was beginning to fear that I may have somehow lost my sanity, or that, failing that, I had somehow wound up in Hell, and my punishment was to be besieged by an army of warriors half the size of my little finger.

I caught a glimpse of one man who was differently attired than the majority – wearing a robe and cloak instead of plate armour. He was riding upon an inch-and-a-half long horse, in the midst of the formation, and was calling out orders, mostly variations on: “Stay calm! Hold your ground!”

As soon as I reached for him, however, he quickly disobeyed his own commands, and spurred his horse on with all possible enthusiasm. Still, it was the easiest thing for me to stretch my arm out over the ranks of frightened soldiers, and pluck the little pipsqueak of a commander from his mount. This seemed to be the catalyst that drove the men to action. All of a sudden, arrows by the hundreds flew through the air, hitting the exposed skin of my arms and legs. But the minute missiles were only half an inch long at most, and I remained unscathed, though they did give me a little itch after a while.

“That’s it!” I shouted, so loudly that many of the attackers fainted. “If you don’t stop annoying me with your futile attacks, I’ll…I’ll crush your little leader here like a grape!”

This seemed to have the desired effect, and the assault stopped. The mass of soldiers retreated to a safer distance, leaving me, for the moment, alone with my petrified captive. I say petrified, for the tiny man was lying quite motionless in the centre of my hand, his insignificant weight barely noticeable. I gave him a few prods with my fingertip, to convince myself of his reality, and decided it would be wise to question him.

“All right, mon petit, here’s how this’ll work,” I spoke in a friendly manner, while still letting him know that it’s my rules we’ll be playing by. “You answer all of my questions, honestly and promptly, and I’ll leave you and your army alone, and be off. Does that sound fair to you?”

The little man, now sitting upright in my palm, nodded silently. I now had the opportunity of studying him more closely, and saw that he had long, black hair, pale skin, and the unmistakeable air of a nobleman.

“First of all,” I began, “where, in the name of God, am I?”

“On…on the island of Lilliput,” he said, in a tiny, timid voice.

“Lilliput? I’ve never heard of that. Are all of its inhabitants of your meagre size?”

He nodded again, clearly out of his depth when it came to talking to a woman seventy times his height.

“Ah, I see,” I continued. “Now, two questions. Firstly, why were you and your soldiers attacking me; and secondly, do you know the way back to France?”

“I don’t know any ‘France’, I swear! And we tried to subdue you because…because we thought you were a fiend, some manner of monster sent by the Blefuscudians to invade us!”

“Well, you were wrong there! Invasion is the last thing on my mind today, believe me! Now, since you cannot direct me to my desired destination, I guess it’s up to me to find someone who can.”

“Oh. In that case, perhaps…perhaps the Emperor can help you, Miss…”

“Bradamante. Very well, my miniature friend, let’s go and visit this emperor you speak of.”

I got to my feet, feeling a little unstable after the traumatic events of last night, but eager to get off this ridiculous little island. My tiny captive, still nestled in the palm of my hand, protested greatly when he learned that he was to be carried by me. I held my hand snugly against my chest, and ordered him to be quiet.

“Now, are these soldiers of yours going to make way for me, or shall I have to step on them?”

A few seconds later my way was unobstructed, and I set off down the little paved road that ran next to the beach. This road, however, was so absurdly narrow that I soon left it and cut across the countryside. I naturally kept my eyes open, and avoided stepping on any little houses or their even littler inhabitants. My captive, whose name, I learned, was Prince Nokto, acted as my rather unenthusiastic guide. It turned out that he was an important person, nothing less than the emperor’s cousin, in fact, and as such commanded the entire northern division of the army. Right now, however, he was my little prisoner, and I would see to it that all my demands were met promptly.