Behind the main guard, the pole was straight and thin, as would be expected of a jousting lance, but that regularity lasted for scarcely a single hoof-length before another confusing appendage stuck out. This time, it was a somewhat long, leather strap with, of all things, an arched brass stirrup at the end. Not that Artemis was going to say that word out loud! She’d been embarrassed enough when she’d half-drunkenly blurted out one detail of her actual private life. She wasn’t about to let out a fictional detail, now of all times.