Instead of the conversations at dinner, he turned his thoughts to the petitions that had been covered in the council that day Edith's in particular. The thought of her face as she had turned and marched from the council chamber kept coming back to haunt him and it was even worse because he had no idea why Thea had replied in the way she had. Sure, it would be unfortunate if Farlan lost more valuable adults to the war effort, but with the King's muster in place, what choice did they have?
Indeed, the more he thought about it, the more Thea's lack of response to the issues the muster had risen disturbed him. Her diplomacy in response to reports of Farlan's lack of resources only just made sense, but she had not yet outlined any plans to ensure that Farlan would not fall behind the King's requirements. If Dorran didn't know better, if he hadn't seen Farlan meet muster year after year, despite hardship, he would be beginning to wonder by this point whether Thea planned to meet them at all. And if he was wondering...
Dorran shook his head, and found himself wandering towards the kitchens. Dozens of servants were scrubbing plates, bowls, and silverware from the feast in large buckets of water heated over the fire, and as he'd suspected, Myriel was among them, relatively deserted in a corner. Smiling he headed over and tapped her lightly on the shoulder.
She looked surprised to see him, but remained carefully polite. "Good evening, my lord."
"Good evening, Myriel," he said. "Are you free? I was hoping to have the chance to talk to you."
She looked around the room, probably judging, as he had, that the sound of splashing was enough to cover their conversation. "Yes, I'd be happy to speak with you. What is it?"
"I just…” he trailed off, wondering how to begin. “I am wondering what Mother's thinking."
Myriel pursed her lips, but continued with her washing. "Go on?"
"Well...Edith petitioned today for her to allow women to join the muster, and Mother flat out denied her. She didn't even allow for others' input….she heard her out, and then just said no." Dorran shook his head. "I can't imagine what Edith must be feeling," he admitted. "She's wanted to fight all her life, and Mother made it sound like she may never be able to."
"I suppose to someone like Edith, fighting would be very important," Myriel admitted quietly. "You're right, I am sure it was hard on her, but she is strong. Are you going to talk to her about it?"
"I don't really know what I could say," he admitted. "I've spent years wondering when I'll head off to battle, but for her it's completely different, she has spent years training knowing that she could never head into battle.”
"Well...I think you know her better than you might think you do," she said. "You already know that her difficulty isn't one that can be brushed aside or fixed with light words, which is already more than most would bother to consider. And from what I've heard, you are quite close to her, possibly as close as family. No matter what you were to say to her, I'm sure she would appreciate that you sympathized with her and were concerned for her well-being, both as a person and as a soldier."
Dorran was taken aback at the compliment. "Thanks," he began with a crooked smile, but then he realized that this wasn't the conversation he'd intended to have at all. He frowned. "But you've changed the subject," he said accusingly.
Myriel ducked her head, and Dorran blinked in surprise. She had done that intentionally?
"Look," he said, desperation edging into his voice, "I just want to know what's going on. The Duchess Thea is my mother, and she's given me a lot of responsibility with the muster. The more I work towards the muster the more I find things do not feel right. I just want to know what she actually intends to do. Please, Myriel….you wouldn't try to avoid the topic if there weren't something you can tell me."
Myriel jerkily set another pot aside to dry and pulled out a new one, beginning to scrub at it thoroughly. "My lord, I am a servant," she said quietly. "There are some things that I am simply not allowed to hear or repeat."
"Not to the Duchess's son?" He pleaded, then added, more quietly, "Not even to a friend who has come asking advice? Myriel, I don't want to bully you…that's the last thing I'm trying to do, but..."
"I know." Myriel had stopped washing, but still refused to look at him, and there was a long and awkward silence as Dorran waited for her to continue. Finally, she resumed washing, speaking over the splashing in a surprisingly casual tone. "You should speak to the Duchess."
Dorran blinked. "What?"
"Duchess Thea. I can ask her to make a slot in her schedule tomorrow." Myriel was washing with a vengeance again, her tone conversational. "I'm sure that if you express your confusion, and the inconsistencies you have found she will be able to advise you on the current state of affairs."
"Do you think?" Dorran asked. "I am not sure…"
"My lord," Myriel interrupted him, the words unexpectedly gentle, "your mother is not intending to deceive you, and I am sure she will not be offended by an honest question. Remember, she wishes you to become a valuable leader, not simply a soldier trained to follow orders. Indeed, I think she will see your concern as a mark in your favor."
"Really?" Dorran said, unconvinced. "I would think that the last thing that Mother needs in a situation like this is her firstborn son questioning her decisions."
"She knows you're willing to follow her lead," Myriel assured him. "Believe me, if she did not, your situation would be very different."
Dorran wondered what she meant by that, but only said, "I suppose..."
"I'll talk with the Duchess and tell you when to go to her," Myriel said firmly. "It's the most we can do; you'll have to trust your mother for the rest." Finally, she cast a glance at him over her shoulder. "You can do that, can't you?"
"Of course."
"Good," Myriel said, smiling. "Don't worry, my lord, I can guarantee that she will not get angry at you for asking simple questions of her."
There was no way to respond to that but to nod and leave. Heir to the duchy or not, Dorran knew when he was being dismissed.
Chapter IX
To Dorran's dismay, his meeting with Thea ended up being scheduled in the late afternoon. This meant a day spent in useless fretting and even more useless attempts to study in Thea's library. Normally, Dorran would have spent an hour or two in the barracks training hall to release his nervous energy, but he feared coming across Edith, given the mood he suspected of her and the fact that he had no idea how he would defend the decision of his mother if questioned, he figured it was best to keep his distance for the time being.
The desire to question his mother himself, though, only grew as the hours stretched on. The more he thought about it, the more Thea's actions didn't make sense. Admittedly, he had never paid much attention to her policies in the past, but it seemed utterly unlike her to leave the demands of a challenge like the muster unaddressed. Dorran had a firm faith in his mother's planning abilities, and indeed had never heard them questioned except in occasional minute detail in the formal setting of the council. Thea's behavior in this instance simply didn't make sense.
Dorran found himself wondering what the other muster officials and the commoners thought about it. They were used to years of rule by a level headed, thorough thinking ruler; how many of them had already considered the possibility that Thea would be unable to serve Farlan under the demands of the King's muster? The occasional hysterical parent was one thing, but if the average layperson in Farlan thought his mother was woefully unprepared, or if they had reason to begin to suspect it, as he himself did, how would they react?
For the first time, he thought he began to viscerally understand the necessity of discretion in politics, but that alone was not going to answer his question. So, certain of his need for further information, he tried to prepare himself to be as confident as he could when he came face to face with his mother. He knew that if he was unsure of himself his mother would pick up on it and be less willing to discuss anything of a sensitive nature with him.
Of course, it was one thing to dec
lare such an intention to himself, and another to actually be able to carry it out in practice. Even though it was an informal meeting in one of Thea's smaller council chambers, just the act of knocking on the door and being called inside was enough to intimidate him.
"Dorran," Thea said as he entered the room bowing low in greeting. She did not look as stern as usual, though the ever present fierceness remained in her eyes.. "Myriel told me that you wished to see me. What is it you wanted to speak about?"
Dorran's mouth went dry. It was one thing to talk to himself, or even to Myriel, about his concerns, but saying them to the Duchess herself was more difficult than he would have anticipated. "What's going on, Mother?" He asked the words coming out slowly as if each one had to be forced out at sword point. "Everyone's talking about whether or not we will be able to meet muster, but nobody knows."
Thea smiled tiredly. "Knowing how the muster will turn out requires understanding. It isn’t just about number but also about knowing what a lot of other people are thinking, feeling, and planning. I don't yet have a full picture myself but the core of the picture has begun to form. All I can know for certain is what I am planning, and I have to spend my time being careful in that regard so that as few people know about it as needed."
"Well...what can I do?" Dorran asked. "I've been trying to learn as best I can, but I'm still not sure what I should focus on. If you have any ideas..."
"I think you're doing all right for yourself." Thea suddenly straightened in her chair. "But I doubt Myriel would have asked me for a meeting on your behalf if that was the only question you had for me. It is important to come to your points quickly, Dorran. Obedience is important, but that does not mean to simply follow blindly. You must become your own man and to do that you must learn to follow you r own path and a large part of that is to ask the right questions at the correct moment, even if it is uncomfortable to do so."
Dorran's stomach plummeted and began to tie itself in knots. After a few seconds to recover from his shock he was surprised to find his mouth opening on its own, not giving it anymore thought he decided to follow its lead. "Myriel told me to meet with you," he confessed. "I was asking her why you turned down Edith's petition."
Thea nodded slowly, her gaze calculating. "I see. Why do you think I made such a decision?"
"I honestly have no idea," Dorran admitted. "It's true that we can ill afford the muster, but there are many women, including Edith, who are more than willing to fight…..and frankly, without them, it would appear that we have no way to meet muster."
"I see," Thea said slowly. "Can you think of no possible explanation?"
"Well..." Dorran frowned. "When I put it together with your other responses.” Dorran’s eyes widened and pain started to swirl through his body as everything began to slide into place. “You can’t be thinking that disobeying the king's orders is the best course of action. Admittedly, I don't know much about what the consequences of such an action might be, but..." He trailed off, then concluded, "I just don't know what to think about it, to be honest."
Thea regarded him for a long moment before speaking again; when she did, her voice was distressingly final. "Dorran, you have trained in fighting so long that it would seem you have learned to think as a soldier. Soldiers are invaluable and important, of course, but one of their frequent failings is that they forget to view the world as it stands outside the orders they are given. That is not to say that disobedience is advisable in some, or even most cases but sometimes it is the only course of action that makes sense.”"
Dorran considered this, then shook his head. "I see the beginning of the meaning in your words, Mother, but I am not sure I understand fully." He took a deep breath. "You're caught between two clashing blades. I understand that, but there are ways in which you might be able to pass this muster, and you don't seem to be making a full effort to do so. I cannot see the benefits to what appears to be your current course of action."
The words were some of the most difficult he had said in his life. He adjusted the grip of his hands behind his back, looked at the floor, and waited for his mother's reaction, however reproving it might be.
"You seem to have a healthy fear of the King's opinion," Thea said pensively, startling him into looking up at her. She was looking at him appraisingly, with no hint of anger. "But what of that of the people? After all, they must comprise our soldiers, not to mention the hands that feed and provide for them."
Dorran considered this carefully before answering. "I think I'm worried about that most of all," he said. "Undoubtedly the King's muster poses great difficulty for many people, but the people keep sending their reports of their inability to meet requirements, and you have yet to address how the discrepancy will be met. Atop that, you deny women like Edith, who would be happy to volunteer to lessen the strain on the dwindling male population, the opportunity to fight. I know that I cannot make sense of it, and I fear what conclusions others might reach."
"I see," Thea sad, sitting back in her chair. Then, "what you have yet to understand is what exactly it will mean if this muster is met."
"What do you mean?" Dorran asked.
"Well, consider it for a moment. What would happen were I to do as you suggest, to send female soldiers and scrape together every last resource to outfit them? Even if we were to meet the King's every specification and beyond, where would we be?"
Dorran considered this for a moment, but Thea answered the question for him. "We would be relieved, of course. And the King would continue to be pleased with us. Indeed, he would believe us a worthy and valuable resource perhaps even, among the struggling duchies, the first to contact in the event of the need for another muster."
Dorran stood silent for a long moment, absorbing her implication. Finally, he began, "Do you really think…"
"The King is also in an impossible situation," Thea interrupted him smoothly. "And, unlike us, he has no reason to see Farlan as a prime concern. Can you see, then, why I must consider options that the King does not when he sends his orders?"
Dorran nodded.
"Good." Thea sat back in her chair. "One of the things I have attempted to teach you recently Dorran, is the way that leaders must listen to the concerns of the people below them as well as the orders of those in command. You seem to have learned the beginnings of this lesson, since you mention worry for the opinion of the people," Thea remarked casually. "You're right, of course it is important for a ruler to keep a close ear to the ground, to hear what is said of them by their subjects. You have met with the muster officials, which has informed your opinion so far. I wonder how the opinion of those who are not warriors might influence your opinion." She raised her hands and clapped three times, and one of her guards hurried into the room. "See if you can have Myriel brought here," she said to him, then sent him out again.
It was less than a minute before the servant in question appeared. Dorran thought her expression seemed faintly apprehensive, and wondered if she had been waiting in the area of the council chamber since he had entered.
"Myriel," Thea said shortly, "I want you to take Dorran with you on your errand tonight. Disguise him so that his identity will go unnoticed. This is for his benefit, not directly for mine, so if you believe he will be an undue hindrance, please feel free to refuse."
Myriel shook her head. "I am quite sure he won't be, my lady. It would be my pleasure to have him."
Thea smiled briefly. "Good. You are dismissed," she said firmly, and Myriel curtsied her understanding before leaving the room. Thea looked back at Dorran and, to his surprise, smiled softly.
"I believe you may find what you learn with Myriel to be informative," she said, "though perhaps not so much as you would wish. I can understand your frustration, my son but I cannot tell you my plans in full yet. I am aware of how unsatisfying this must be for you, but you must forgive me. I will let you know when I believe you are ready to truly listen."
"Of course, Mother," he replied automatically his voice tinged with bo
th disappointment and confusion.
She smiled at him patiently, as though she knew that he had answered without meaning the words. "Rest assured that I will tell you more in time," she said. "For now, what your sisters and Myriel tell you will have to be enough. You are dismissed."
Dorran bowed and left the room, deep in thought.
Myriel, unusually brisk and businesslike, arrived at the door to his room a few hours later with a bundle under her arm.
"First of all, my lord," Myriel said, "I'd like to ask you to wear these." She offered him a neatly-folded stack of clothing. Dorran set it down on the bed and lifted the first item from the pile, then raised an eyebrow at her.
"You'll be too noticeable where we're going, my lord," Myriel said in explanation, sounding matter-of-fact and not the least bit apologetic. "You're a young, healthy male, and those are rare enough that when people see you, they're going to look twice. Being recognized will only draw us unwanted attention."
Dorran looked at the long, beaded skirt in his hands, and then back to Myriel. It only made sense for him to be disguised, but...
Myriel gave him a slightly conciliatory smile. "There's no reason you can't wear trousers… underneath."
In that case, he supposed, there was no real reason to complain. Ten minutes later, he was dressed in the dark, straight-cut women's garb and following Myriel down the hallway with the hood of his cloak up, desperately hoping that no one would see them.
Their walk ended up being a fairly short one, but it was passed in silence. There were only a few passersby on the roads they took, but Dorran supposed that there was no reason to allow the possibility that his voice might draw attention to himself. Myriel did not tell him what they were going to do, however, and only by arriving at its front steps did Dorran learn that their destination was the Silver Crown Tavern.
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