Noble Beginnings (4 page)

As the afternoon light began to wane, Dorran
made his farewells and left the training hall, sweaty and feeling
much more comfortable in his own skin now that the familiar aches
were settling in his limbs. He considered going straight back to
his rooms maybe with a detour to the servants' baths beneath the
castle but his curiosity got the better of him, and he turned in
the opposite direction, towards Edith's room.

He found her door after few minutes' walk
from the training hall. There was no sign on the door, which was
loosely shut as always, hanging slightly ajar in the frame due to
loose, old hinges. Dorran knocked and waited for a long moment.
When there was no response, he knocked once more and then took a
deep ragged breath as he slowly pushed the door open, letting it
scrape awkwardly on the uneven stones of the floor.

Edith's room had always been particularly
sparse. It looked to him like more of a personal storage space than
one a person would live in: she only kept it because it was open
and Dorran had offered it, although she told Dorran she had come to
enjoy the extra space. She had another home, away from the uncles
she had grown up with. It wasn’t much just a tiny rented space in
one of the larger inns just outside the castle walls, where she
usually ate and slept.

She also spent a great deal of her time here
as well, using it almost like a secret base for her training, and
usually it showed. Now, however, most of her personal effects were
gone. The usual piles of worn and broken clothing and weapons that
she enjoyed mending were gone. Only the oldest pieces of her
training gear, neatly stacked in the corner, was in the room.

Dorran examined the room for a long moment.
Closing his eyes the memories of when he'd offered Edith this room
flooded his mind. She had been living in a tiny space with a couple
of her uncles, who had agreed to help find veterans to instruct the
two of them in fighting. He almost missed it now the sad, indulgent
look he only vaguely remembered from his mother as she offered to
pay a small wage in addition to the veterans' pension to Vernis,
Tam, and a few of the others willing to educate Dorran and other
students interested in swordplay. Dorran wasn't sure if the men
were still paid or not, only that a few more of them moved into the
barracks with his casual permission, since his mother had given
them over to him to use as he saw fit.

He sighed, and then turned and walked back
down the hallway, trying to convince himself that Edith's absence
was nothing to worry over. She was more than capable of making her
own decisions, and since she usually kept her word to the letter,
her reason for leaving had to be a good one. Moreover, in the long
run, it wasn't as though the training sessions would stop. There
were plenty of veterans to keep the younger fighters instructed,
and both groups were more than sufficiently motivated to continue
without outside supervision. But it was still unlike her, and
Dorran couldn't help but wonder what was going on.

CHAPTER IV

The whole night was filled with worries. His
mind concocted everything imaginable happening to Edith both good
and bad. As soon as he was able to he found himself making his way
back to the barracks the next day, and the day after that, but both
days Edith was absent.

On the third day, however, she was back and
training with the others. He examined her from across the hall, but
she looked the same as ever, with no sign that she had ever been
gone.

Dorran shook his head and sidled in, his
training sword slung casually over his shoulder. When one of the
groups of younger males spotted him, he waved and walked over,
calling, "Room for one more?"

He thought he saw Edith glance at him out of
the corner of his eye, but didn't want to catch her eye to check.
Instead, he focused on not getting beaten by Marcus and his friends
due to his lack of practice. It was easier than it had been either
of the two previous days, but they got in more hits than usual
because Dorran kept taking split seconds to glance over at Edith,
making sure she was still there.

He spotted her leaving a bit earlier than
usual, and quickly excused himself as well, waving to Marcus, Iain,
Vernis, and Tam as he caught the door Edith was pulling closed.

"Hey, Edith," he called quietly. "Can I walk
you to your room?"

She looked him over and shrugged. "Why not."
She replied as she started walking. Before he was all the way past
the doorframe she looked over her shoulder. "I see you're
back."

"Took me a while to get to say the same," he
said jokingly. "Where were you?"

Edith ignored the question, looking
resolutely down the hallway. "Did you get permission from the
Duchess to come back down here?"

"Not exactly, but I've been keeping an eye on
her schedule, and I did check in with Nora...so" Dorran said
doggedly.

"Well, that's good, I think. I'd hate to
think that my activities were keeping you distracted from your
duties." She was straight-faced as ever, and he decided he needed
to be more direct.

"More like your lack of activities.
Seriously, where were you the past few days?"

"On business."

"Business?"

"Yes, I was sent to negotiate prices for
imports later in the year. With smaller harvests from last fall,
it's going to be hard for taverns to stay supplied through till the
next one."

"You've never been sent on errands before,"
Dorran pointed out. "And I thought you were supposed to keep me
informed."

They had arrived at Edith's door, but instead
of going in she finally turned to look at him, raising her eyebrow
and giving him an annoyed expression. "Am I supposed to ask you
permission to go on errands now?"

He fought the strong urge to physically step
backwards, lifting his hands in defense as he backpedaled. "Come
now, you know I didn't mean it like that. I'm just used to knowing
what you're up to. And I did entrust you with the training."

She sighed. "That is true, but the old
soldiers have it firmly in hand. They don't need either you or me
around to keep the younger ones and themselves in fighting shape.
And…. things have been...busy lately."

"Busy, how?" Dorran asked, curious, but Edith
turned away leaving the question unanswered.

"Speaking of which, I really need to get
home. And don't you…"

She was interrupted by a figure striding
purposefully up the hallway. "I thought I might find you here, my
lord," Myriel said quietly as she came into their earshot. "Your
mother's got a council at the moment, and she has requested your
presence. You'd best come along with me if you don't want to miss
it entirely. I warn you your mother will be most displeased if that
should occur."

The look Edith gave him was disapproving.
"You'd best get going, my lord. Good evening." She said harshly and
stepped into her room, shutting the door loudly without giving him
a backward glance.

Dorran felt like pulling out his hair and
yelling in frustration for everyone to hear, but he knew that
Myriel was the last person to be annoyed with. It was not as if it
was her fault, he was the one who had put her out, after all. "Lead
the way," he said, resigned to his fate. Myriel obeyed as tactful
and efficient as always quietly leading him the way back to the
castle grounds.

By the time he'd arrived at his mother's
council, he was late and his clothes were marred with dirt and in
an untidy state. He was perfectly aware that the ladies were
dissecting him with their eyes. It was his mother’s eyes he was
worried about, though unruffled, they held a hint of disapproval.
He gritted his teeth as subtly as he was able and tried to pay
attention through the haze of frustration and confusion that Edith,
usually so reliable, had left in her wake.

His day was not going as planned and to make
matters worse, his mother had to ask his opinion on an issue of
agriculture he'd only half been paying attention to. He stumbled
his way through an answer as best he could, trying to deflect the
question to a more qualified party as a survival tactic, but the
ladies saw right through his attempt, and a few took the
opportunity to make a titter at him, while the few men in the room
looked amused, if vaguely sympathetic. This brought up more brief
whispers of his future marriage, and he thought he caught a few
doubtfully muttered questions" Is he really going to succeed her
Grace?" "Surely she isn't intending..."Before Thea brought the
council's attention back to the issues at hand.

The entire rest of the council went much the
same way, with Dorran alternating between feelings of being acutely
embarrassed and utterly disinterested. The combination along with
Edith's disapproval had him inwardly seething by the end of the
gathering. By time the end was in sight he was in a fouler mood
than he could remember being in years.

So it took most of his remaining fortitude
not to groan aloud when Thea intentionally dismissed the rest of
the council before turning to his sisters, giving him no leave to
depart whatsoever. She called each of them over and talked to them
quietly for a short while, and they left separately, so that by the
time Nora had closed the door behind her, Dorran was the only
person in the room with his mother.

"Dorran, I take it you were down at the
barracks again?" The question wasn't accusing, just seeking
clarification, but he still felt the prickling beginnings of shame
building in the pit of his stomach.

"Yes, Mother," he answered, his voice barely
above a whisper.

"And Nora told me that Myriel said you've
been going there for the past few days." The little spy, Dorran
thought in an uncommon moment of anger, but then sighed internally
as Thea continued. "You know that I have asked that you spend more
time in the castle learning more about your future duties. May I
ask why you have shifted your attention back to the barracks
without my approval?"

"The adjustment wasn't meant to be
permanent," he said stiffly. "I was trying to determine why my
friend Edith wasn't running the practices anymore."

Thea gave him an inscrutable look. "And did
you?"

"No, but she appears to have the matter
firmly in hand." Dorran took a deep breath. "I apologize for my
actions, Mother. I did not intend to go against your wishes."

"I accept your apology," she said formally.
Then, after a pause, she added, "Though I don't know that you have
too much to apologize for. Dorran, it may be that your exercises in
the barracks may prove invaluable before long. I would be willing
to allow you to continue them….as long as your understanding of the
affairs of court continues to improve. Do I make myself clear?"

Dorran looked at his feet. "Yes, Mother," he
said carefully and clearly. The order wasn't helpful; he still had
no clear idea of what he was supposed to be doing or how he was
supposed to do it, but to ask for clarification now would probably
be read as impertinence. He bit his lip as he knelt again, taking
his leave, and then turned on his heel and strode out the door.

"Take care, Dorran," Thea said as he shut the
door behind him, but he didn't know whether she said it as an
endearment or a warning.

He walked and walked and kept walking, and
soon found himself halfway down to where the barracks were before
he even realized where he was going. He stopped himself and looked
around, unwilling to disobey his mother's orders, even in spirit,
any more than he already had. When he was sure there were no nobles
about to round the corner, he swung an angry, reckless fist at the
wall.

"Damn it!" he yelled, slamming the palm of
his other hand against the stone, striking it again and again. He
wanted to see the wall crack under the strength of his arms. He
wanted to break a hand or wrist with the force of his blows, but
knew it would do him no good, his anger played out he turned and
slammed his back against the wall and let himself slide to the cold
ground.

He hadn't felt this frustrated in years, but
then, for years he had been able to train constantly he had been
able to vent any frustrations or other overwhelming feelings in
physical activity. He had practiced and fought and lost and gotten
up until he had won, even if only through luck.

Now, though, not only was he partially barred
from the activity that had kept him sane for the last decade and
set up as a laughingstock in front of his mother's council, the
person he had trusted most was keeping secrets from him as though
it were nothing.

He struck the wall again, betrayed and angry,
and imagined for a split second that he was striking at Edith
herself, that the wall was her forearm blocking him as it had in
their occasional tries at hand to hand combat.

"Brother."

Dorran jumped violently and looked over his
shoulder to see Adhara standing in the corner, watching him with a
guarded look on her face.

"Addie," his mouth said by reflex. "I..." He
realized quickly that he had no idea what he wanted to say after
that, and looked down at his hands instead. He had managed to avoid
doing any real damage to them, though his knuckles were red and
angry-looking; he lowered his hands and placed them in a ready
stance behind his back, as though he were waiting to receive
orders.

There was a long moment of silence, which
Adhara was ultimately the one to break. "You should talk to
Myriel," she said firmly.

"Why?" he asked.

"She's comfortable with the affairs of the
castle, not to mention she is trustworthy those two qualities are
rare enough by themselves, and priceless together. You're feeling
out of your depth with the affairs of state, aren't you?"

It wasn't really a question, and Dorran
didn't really want to answer, but she continued for him anyway. "It
wouldn't really be right for Nora or me to teach you, Mother's got
enough on her plate already, and going to any of the other members
of court would put you in their power...so Myriel's your best
option."