Noble Beginnings (17 page)

"Well..." Thea leaned forward. "That depends
on whether we win."

"Win?"

"The King won't agree with my decision," Thea
said mildly. "His Majesty has always had difficulty separating his
passions from his sense, and when I declare my intention to cease
my support, I suspect he won't take my decision lightly."

Dorran's heart sank. Fight for Farlan... "You
think he will attack us," he guessed.

"I suspect it. He was probably at least
partly behind the attempt on my life today, and I've covered my
tracks as best I could. I doubt he has heard more than whispers of
discontent. If he's willing to go so far to combat rumors...he may
well come after us despite all sense. We should prepare to fight as
mighty a force as we are able...which leads me to the second part
of my question. Dorran, I want you to be my right hand in combat.
Will you lead the men in the defense of Farlan?"

“I will do whatever I must to protect the
people of Farlan. It doesn’t matter if it be as a soldier or a
simple farmer. You wish is my command mother.” Dorran said bowing
deeply.

CHAPTER XV

Thea's formal announcement of the previous
day's events occurred in the first hour after dawn; by mid-morning,
the capital was in such an uproar that hints of it could be heard
outside the castle windows. Even within the patient silence of the
council chamber, it was impossible to forget that outside there was
a castle and, beyond that a city, and beyond that a whole land
falling into chaos.

It felt strange to be at the center of the
turmoil, but even within the quiet restraint of the court there
were too many raging emotions; fear, anticipation, pride, loss, and
more, all whirling around too fiercely to be hidden by the composed
demeanor of the council's members. She smoothly steered the topic
in the meeting that morning from that to her surety of the King's
involvement to her intentions to establish Farlan's independence so
quickly that Dorran wondered whether the other council members
would even notice in the uproar. Until one of them stood quietly,
bringing the rest of the mad whispering around the table to a
halt.

"My lady." The speaker was an old man whom
Dorran recognized as Lord Goldwood. One of the few men present, he
had been a part of the council for as long as Dorran could
remember. A weakness of the blood kept him from fighting in the
war, but his mental faculties were acute as any. "I cannot abide
this," the man continued.

"What do you mean, my lord?" Thea asked
coolly. "I believe I have given you the reasoning behind my
decision."

"You have, my lady," he said stiffly, "and I
cannot agree. The King fights for the rights of Farlan and beyond.
What of the duty we have to our far-off fellow states, to protect
them from the oppression of the would-be Emperors? And do you
believe that our King, who above all else expects honor and loyalty
to his subjects, would take kindly to such a betrayal?"

"I suspect he will not," Thea said calmly,
"but it seems clear to me now that he already sees me as a threat,
and that Farlan has far more to lose than she has to gain by
maintaining her connection with the Kingdom."

"If that is truly your intention, my lady..."
Goldwood said, hesitant.

"It is," Thea confirmed.

"Then I must give up my seat on this council
in protest. I am a loyal subject of the King, and while I am
grateful for the years Farlan has sheltered me and mine, I will not
remain now that you and she have become traitors to him." With
that, the old man gathered up his things and swept away. Before
leaving, however, he turned at the doors to survey the rest of the
council. "As for the rest of you, I hope you know what you are
doing. Any who decide to accompany me to the King's side would
likely be wise indeed."

There was a stony silence as the rest of the
table stared him down. Not a single member of the council
moved.

Goldwood eyed them all carefully, and then,
with a small sigh, turned and left the room. The door creaked shut
behind him, and in the same moment, Thea returned her attention to
council. "Now, then," she said, as though nothing had happened, "I
happen to have drafted a declaration of Farlan's intent to become
an independent nation, as well as a basic outline of the rules of
succession in our new nation and the rudimentary beginnings of
standards for trade agreements with the rest of the Kingdoms."

They spent several hours reading out and
arguing the finer points of each of these documents, during which
Dorran tried his best to be interested; but it was harder than
ever, now that he knew that the King's army would soon be bearing
down on them. Finally, he gave up on understanding their debates
and focused on his soldiers how he would tell them what was going
on, and what challenges might arise in convincing them to prepare
to fight for Farlan rather than the King. He wondered what he would
do if some soldiers wished to go home, and decided he would simply
take a leaf out of Thea's book if it came to that. Farlan wasn't
going to need those who were not devoted to her, he thought. After
all, wasn't that what this entire separation from the Kingdoms was
all about?

As he watched, working drafts of each
document were decided upon, and the relevant personages signed the
bottom of several long sheets of paper, some of which were
surprisingly large. Thea rolled up the documents herself, stashing
them in the sleeve of her simple gown. "Excellent, everyone!" she
said, "It would seem now that all that remains to be discussed is a
crest, a symbol, not of the Kingdom, but one that Farlan can claim
alone."

There was a low humming from the tables as
the council members murmured ideas to one another.

"However, such an item, while important, is
the sort of topic that can take hours to discuss, especially if the
members are unprepared," said Thea dryly. "As such, unless any of
you already has some symbol in mind..."

"I do." Dorran said loudly.

Everyone at the table, including Thea,
Adhara, and Nora, stared in astonishment at Dorran, whose legs had
pushed him out of his chair almost without his own volition. It
was, he realized, the first time he had ever spoken to all of the
council directly. He swallowed quickly, and then described the idea
that had come to him.

"I was imagining the two moons of the
southern mountains," he said, raising his voice so that all of them
could hear him. "The two moons in the southern lands of Farlan are
legendary in their beauty, and unique in all the lands. I believe
they could be a suitable symbol of the hope and beauty we find in
the country of Farlan...and of the good faith we have in the Queen
and her daughters to lead us to a bright future."

There was a long silence, during which Dorran
took a long look at the faces turned towards him and then sat down
once again at his place.

Thea's voice sounded slightly strained when
she next spoke. "Very well. Keeping in mind that it is the first
option we have heard for Farlan's crest, all in favor?"

A chorus of ayes and raised hands rippled
around the table. Dorran couldn't believe his eyes. The vote was
unanimous.

"Very well, then," Thea said. "I will ensure
that this crest becomes a banner to fly high in the face of the
King, to show him Farlan's pride. You are dismissed, we all have
plenty to do to prepare and little time to do it I would
believe."

Even though the meeting had been dismissed,
there were still hundreds of tasks to complete in and around the
castle, and many of them could do with some supervision of the
soon-to-be-royal variety. Dorran, however, dodged every attempt to
ask him a question about issues ranging from politics to proper
decorations for the coronation. Instead, he shamelessly relegated
any questions put to him to his mother, sisters, and Myriel and
continued to his room, where he donned the formal armor he had
received several years ago. Without his tabard, which had showed
the crest of the King and then, after pacing for almost an hour his
nerves nearly reducing him to a puddle of useless mush. He slapped
himself in the face a few times Dorran took a deep breath and
hurried downstairs to the barracks.

He had to talk to his future soldiers.

When he walked into the barracks training
hall it was only one or two hours after noon. Perhaps half of the
full membership of the muster was present, trying to practice as
ever, though Dorran heard the hum of voices far more frequently
than the clacking of practice blades. When he entered, however, the
fighters inside nodded to each other and stood straight and ready,
watching him, waiting for him to speak. He thought he saw a new
kind of fear flitting from face to face. He suspected that he
understood it, and indeed felt it himself. It was their combined
fear of the King, and of the consequences of fighting him.

"All right, men," he said calmly. "I intend
to keep this short, so I hope you will pass it along to the others.
Do you understand?"

They all nodded or some saluted, and yet
others waited at alert but still attention and Dorran continued.
"My mother, Thea Farlane, intends to declare Farlan’s independence.
It shall become its own nation, independent of the Kingdoms. Her
reason for this, among others, is the ongoing war for succession
that has drained Farlan's men and resources for so many years; in
order to rectify this, she has created a new standard of succession
so that the right to the throne can never be questioned. From this
day onward, all noble houses it shall be the daughters that shall
inherit the titles from their mothers, so that no allegations of
illegitimacy can be made in the first place. Luckily for me, this
means I have neatly dodged the line of succession." He waited for
some response, perhaps laughter or muttering disbelief, but it
would appear that his audience didn't know what to make of his
words yet, so he continued, hoping his words, small and
unimpressive as they felt, might convince them to fight at his
side. "From now on, I'll be able to focus on what I've wanted to
all along and that is to help keep my family and all of Farlan, if
indeed, they are not one and the same, safe from all who wish them
harm."

"Now." Dorran paused for effect, and also to
catch his breath; this was where the speech making got difficult.
"I know that many of you were prepared, with varying degrees of
willingness, to serve Farlan by aiding the King in his conquest. I
also know that some of you may see what we attempt as treason, or
you may simply never have wanted to come here in the first place."
He paused, looking at the small clumps of faces staring at him.
"All I can say is that if you wish to go there will be no
punishment. I hope though I will see you all stay with us, to
support us, and to fight for us if need be. Farlan is my
birthplace, my home, and my heart, just as I know it is many of
yours'. I hope you will join me in my efforts to defend it."

There was a silence that resounded in the
chamber as the men watched him carefully.

"Oh, and finally," he added, "please make a
point of giving every female fighter you come across the same
message. Queen Thea will want every able-bodied and willing adult,
male or female, to work together in protecting Farlan's future as a
newborn nation."

There was another short pause, but as Dorran
stepped back, a cheer started up, and then a wave of applause
rippled through the audience. Dorran was taking a shaky breath of
relief when he first heard a thin voice winding amid the thunder of
clapping hands.

"Sir, what about us?"

Scanning the crowd, he saw Marcus shake free
of the quiet restraining grip that had been placed on him by some
of the other fighters and walk forward. He looked distinctly
nervous, but his voice, when he spoke, was full of
determination.

"You will allow women to fight among you, but
can I fight beside you, my lord? And my friends? We...we are
children in your eyes. But Farlan as a nation is even younger, and
in need of all the swords she can get," Marcus argued.

Dorran was surprised by the boy's eloquence,
but did not expect children to be capable of much more than getting
killed on a battlefield facing full-grown men, and was about to say
so when there was a sudden, smart rap on the door.

All the fighters, remembering what had
happened the last time someone interrupted a practice, jumped and
stiffened, a reaction that didn't go away when Nora peeked around
the corner.

"Excuse me," she said politely, directing her
words to Dorran. "Would it be all right if I made a short
announcement?"

Dorran blinked at her. "Nora, what are you
doing here?"

It looked like Nora winked at the younger
fighters, though Dorran thought it might only have been a trick of
the light. "I was listening in to check on you. You give a rousing
enough speech, Brother especially given the fact it was on such
short notice."

"I try," he said flatly, trying to avoid
flushing at her teasing. "Now, what are you doing?"

"I'm here to poach some of your soldiers,"
she told him sweetly, and then called out to the crowd. "If you
fear being kicked out of Farlan's newborn army because of your
youth, please step forward!"

There was some foot-shuffling and rebellious
muttering, and Nora put on a sardonic smile. "Good, good. You have
good reason to be wary of an adult giving you such an order at this
moment, so let me explain the reason behind it: I wish to command
some fighters of my own. If you believe you can avoid being sent
home, then feel free to stay with my brother. But if you want a
chance to fight for Farlan, to win our victory at any cost...then
come with me. I promise, I will put you to good use."

Higher-pitched murmuring filled the hall as
the younger boys talked among themselves, either wary of being
tricked or Dorran suspected, already wisely leery of Nora. As he
scanned the crowd again, he saw Marcus's face meet his. Instead of
the suspicion he had expected, however, he saw an agony of
indecision on the boy's face. Marcus met his eye, expression
pleading, and Dorran realized what he missed. He coughed to dispel
the treacherous lump that was trying to form in his throat and
began to speak.