Noble Beginnings

by D. W. Jackson

  The only words Myriel spared him were "Be sure to keep your hood up, and try not to talk if you can avoid it." She said the words softly into his ear right before opening the door and holding it for him. He tugged at his hood to pull it down further over his face, took a deep breath, and ducked inside, prepared to follow Myriel's lead for whatever was about to happen.

  What did happen was quite straightforward, at least at first. Myriel found them a table and ordered two meals, paying at the counter with a smile before walking back to the dim corner in which she had deposited him.

  "I don't know if you've eaten," she said to him quietly, "but doing so will help us avoid drawing attention to ourselves."

  He nodded his assent he hadn't eaten yet, anyway and ate quickly, keeping his head down. Due to the rationing, the meal was actually more than he was used to.

  As he ate, he was surprised to see Edith step briefly up to them on her way to retrieve empty plates and bowls. He almost didn't recognize her at first her hair, long enough to look feminine but too short to pull back efficiently, was pinned and strapped down to an inch of its life around her face by clips and ribbons she never bothered wearing in the barracks. He'd known she worked here, but he had never seen her working the few times he'd stopped by. He wondered who had forced her to tame her hair he would prefer to know anyone that intimidating ahead of time, so he could avoid them in the future.

  "Hello, Myriel," Edith said with her typical straight-faced civility.

  Myriel waved at her with a small smile.

  "You two know each other?" Dorran murmured.

  Edith shrugged. "After a fashion," she said, already walking away. "Keep your hood up," she said quietly, unknowingly echoing Myriel, right before she walked out of earshot.

  Dorran stared after her, frowning, but Myriel just gave him a shrug and a half smile. "I come here frequently, and she does live here," she explained quietly. "She's not exactly one for talking, but we do see each other on occasion."

  That made sense. He waited until he had finished eating and set his plate down at the corner of the table before speaking again. "So, why did you bring me here?"

  Myriel's face turned serious. "You'll find out soon enough, my lord." She pushed her own empty plate away from herself and stood. "Now follow me, and please keep your head down."

  Dorran nodded and followed her down a hallway and into a back room. He thought it was empty at first, but then realized that a woman was sitting in the corner not looking particularly suspicious, but just happening to be still and shrouded in low light.

  "Myriel," the woman said in greeting, standing and offering her a brief handshake. "It's a pleasure to see you. I hope you are well."

  "Alice. I am," Myriel said, following the woman back to the table and taking a seat. A discreet gesture from her encouraged Dorran to do the same. "How about you?"

  "I'm doing all right." Alice paused slightly, looking over at Dorran. "Ah, but if I may ask..."

  "She's a friend," Myriel said firmly, and Dorran was vaguely disturbed by the ease with which Myriel slipped into talking about him as female. "I'm under orders to have her with me though I can't tell you whose, of course. The fact is though, that I trust her. She won't say anything; she's just here to observe. Is that agreeable?"

  "I suppose so," Alice said easily. "If you don’t mind a third party, I certainly don't. Now, I've been wandering Farlan north to south for the last month to see the climate, and I only got word about the muster order after I'd already left, so my information isn't anywhere near complete, but what do you want to know?"

  "Reactions," Myriel said firmly. "I've got my ear to the ground here in the capital, of course, and I've heard from some of the muster leaders, but that's nothing compared to passing through the countryside as a guest. What have you heard?"

  "Plenty…Though I wasn't meant to hear all of it." Alice smiled crookedly and pushed a lock of her auburn hair out of her face. Dorran could see even in the low light that her skin was thoroughly freckled, but couldn't make out the color of her eyes it was too dark. "Not that the people are secretive, but I was a newcomer. They wanted to give me the clean, straightforward version when they could. Nice to know that there's still old-fashioned hospitality about." Her smile faded. "Even the straight-laced stuff's getting toxic this time around, though. I'll admit it, I'm worried."

  Myriel set her elbows on the table, folding her hands together and leaning forward. "Explain?"

  "Everybody's talking about how little they can afford this next muster. Some of them are hoping the Duchess will find some way to call it off, or at least lessen it. In some areas, they just don't have the men to spare anymore, so they're just talking about the burden of supplies they already know they can't meet the quota for their area, so they've just given up."

  Myriel frowned at this, but didn't look surprised. Dorran was interested to hear that the hopelessness towards the muster was stronger, not weaker, than the leaders he'd met had communicated, and wondered who had the more accurate picture of the situation.

  "And the families that do have sons...there's panic," Alice continued. "The oldest men everywhere are arguing standards for fitness to try to spare the younger ones, but people are beginning to suspect that even that is no use. There have even been rumors of mothers poisoning their sons…not lethally, but enough so that they won't be fit to leave for weeks or even months." She shook her head. "Half the time the rumors say the sons are in on it. It's getting bad, Myriel."

  Myriel pursed her lips. "Rumors like this crop up every muster, don't they? Most of them are unsubstantiated, and you know that hardly anyone actually makes any formal accusations."

  "That's not the point," Alice snapped. "People have been getting more unsettled every year, and those are the small musters. We don't even know if we have thirty thousand men left in the country, let alone thirty thousand battle-ready ones. And the Duchess's firm ban on women soldiers has left people feeling even more trapped. People are wondering whether Farlan will have any men left after the next round of soldiers leaves."

  Myriel looked troubled, but still calmer than Dorran felt listening to the news. He was almost starting to hope that he would be sent off with the troops, just so that he wouldn't have to face what might be coming to the capital after their departure. "Have there been...any threats of violence?" Myriel asked.

  "I've heard that many women have started training together in secret, but no, there's been no overt threats thrown yet…just a lot of anxiety."

  "I see. Well..." Myriel looked pensive, her eyes wandering over to the window for a long moment. "I'm...not exactly sure what to tell you, except that I know the duchess is very aware of the people's concerns. She has many reasons to care deeply about the war herself, and she knows her people to be aware of that. She is grateful for their continued patience, and..." Myriel sighed. "Truly, she wants to protect the people of Farlan as best she can. She knows where her duty truly lies."

  Alice gave her a long look and then nodded. "All right, Myriel. I don't know how things are going to continue at this rate, but Thea's too smart not to have some sort of plan. I just hope that matters don't get too drastic first."

  Myriel, Dorran thought, had an odd tone to her voice when she answered. "I'm certainly hoping that, too," she replied.

  After that, they exchanged a few more pleasantries as Dorran watched; then Alice stood to leave, shaking Myriel's hand one more time before departing. To avoid the possibility of drawing attention to themselves by leaving too soon after her, Dorran and Myriel remained seated for a while.

  "What did you think?" Myriel asked.

  That Mother's as good as you are about changing the subject, Dorran thought to himself, but knew better than to say such a thing out loud, "I am glad that Mother has a good ear to the ground with her people. Thank you for showing me this, it has been….educational."

  Myriel nodded, smiling faintly, but he had the feeling that she also knew his questions were still far from answered. The truth
was none of them had been answered the only thing that had been accomplished by his tagging along was that more questions had reared their ugly head within his mind.

  Chapter X

  Dorran had a great deal on his mind when he returned to the castle. After ducking into a room to change out of the cloak and dress, he had given them to Myriel to avoid looking strange walking down the halls with them. The two of them had parted ways shortly after and he had to admit it was a relief to be alone.

  He wasn't sure what exactly to make of what he had heard from Alice, but honestly he was just surprised at how much his mother appeared to trust Myriel. The servant was so quiet and hardworking that Dorran had never figured she was in charge of so much. Well, Addie did tell me how trustworthy she was, he reflected. And I've seen her discretion myself. So it was no wonder that she was used for such sensitive tasks.

  His reverie was interrupted by footsteps coming around the corner. Straightening, his eyes met a surprised Lyrre's. The expression of shock was only on her face for a split second before a smiled sprung upon her face. "Lord Dorran! What a pleasure to see you."

  It took a force of effort not to glance down and double-check that he was no longer in women's garb, and he felt himself flush slightly at the mere reminder of what he'd been wearing just a short time before. "Lyrre," he said, doing his best to smile in return. "Good evening. And please, call me Dorran." It wasn't the first time he had offered, though he knew that for politeness's sake she was most likely to refuse the offer.

  "Dorran, then," she said, and her smile became less automatic and now held a soft warmth to it. She settled back onto her heels, and one of her hands rose to twist at a loose curl of her hair that hung slightly over her ear. "What are you up to?"

  "Ah...my mother sent me on an errand outside the castle," he said, then silently congratulated himself on the quick answer. "I just got back and was headed back to my own chambers."

  "I see."

  "So, what about you?" he asked, knowing it was his job to keep the conversation going.

  "Oh, I was just talking with Mama. It's getting late and she wanted to retire, but I didn't feel like sleeping just yet, so I was decided on wandering the castle." Her expression turned slightly dreamy as her eyes drifted over the dim hallway. "This place is so beautiful, and so old! Mama's estate is nowhere near as interesting."

  "Is that so?" he said, grinning. He'd been nervous moments ago, but the new topic combined with Lyrre's inborn charm brought a casual smile to his face. "Now let me see...would you like a tour of some of the lesser-known corners?"

  Her eyes sparkled. "Yes, please."

  "Are you sure?" he asked, feigning innocence. "It's getting dark, my lady. You never know what might be lurking in the shadows."

  "But you would, wouldn't you?" she asked, pretending to be shrewd as she squinted at him. “And with such a fine warrior as my escort I doubt I shall find myself in any danger.”

  "Well, perhaps..." He shrugged. "But in all seriousness, I can show you around, if you like. It's not as big or as interesting as you probably think, and the area I know best is the old barracks, which don't have much of interest unless you're interested in fighting..." He trailed off. "Are you?" he asked suddenly.

  She blinked. "Am I what?" she asked.

  "Interested in fighting. Some women train in the barracks downstairs, and I was thinking, if you wanted to join us sometime..." His throat felt dry as he considered the picture it would make, Lyrre with her hair tied back and a knife in her hand, watching him with the same attentive expression she did now, but poised and ready to strike. For some reason, he found it a very agreeable image.

  She shook her head, smiling and blushing. "Oh, no, I couldn't. I'm too clumsy."

  "I can't believe that," he demurred. "If you're worried about it, I…"

  "No, no!" She assured him. "I'm sure you'd be a perfect gentleman. It's just that I've never trained, and besides, I don't really think Mama would like it very much."

  He nodded slowly. "That's understandable. But..." He frowned. "Even Addie and Nora have had a bit of training, though Nora took to it better than Addie did. If you like, I could teach you privately sometime. Just for an afternoon or so. After all, there aren't that many men around anymore; it's best to be able to rely on your own strength to defend yourself."

  She had a strange expression on her face. "Do you think that I am not safe here?"

  "Oh, no," he told her. "You're as safe as can be." The question brought uncomfortable images to the front of his mind, however, as he remembered what Alice had said of Farlan's beginnings of unrest. What if there was a revolt? Would people like Lyrre be safe in the castle? Farlan was loyal to her Duchess for now, but what if the King's demands truly brought them to the point of breaking.

  "Are you all right?" Lyrre asked, and Dorran realized that he had been silent for too long. He readjusted his face into a smile and gave her a sheepish little shrug.

  "I am fine, don't worry. In any case, think about it, all right? And in the meantime, I can escort you to your room, if you would like."

  She smiled and held out an arm, clearly back in her element. "Yes, I would be most pleased," she said, and together they walked to her chambers. Dorran felt the softness of her arm through the sleeve of her gown, which sheared off at the elbow to accommodate for the late spring weather; every now and then she would glance up at him, and he strained his eyes in the dim light, wondering if the blush he saw was only a trick of his eye.

  Finally, they stood outside Lyrre's door. "Well, good night," Dorran said without thinking, and had almost turned to leave before realizing that Lyrre was still staring at him. He turned back to face her, feeling awkward.

  "Thank you for looking after me," Lyrre said impishly. "I might just take you up on that offer some time, you know."

  "I'd like that," Dorran said. He was actually a little worried about how much he would like it, but a telltale glimmer in her eyes made him begin to suspect he wasn't the only one thinking along those lines.

  "Me, too," she said, and then she swooped up and kissed him on the cheek, so quickly he didn't have time to realize what was happening until she was standing in front of him again, blushing scarlet and not meeting his eye.

  "Um..." she said, twisting a finger in her hair again, her other hand already reaching for the door. “Good night!"

  "Night," he said from sheer force of habit, as she swiftly spun, and almost danced into her room, and shut the door quietly but firmly behind her. He brought up one hand to his face, intending to touch the spot she had kissed; in the end, though, he lowered it again, wanting to remember the brief sensation of her lips on his skin more fully.

  Now, he asked himself, what was that for...?

  He suspected it was a statement of interest. Lyrre might have been sweet, but he knew she was perfectly aware of what she was doing; the only question, then, was what ramifications she meant it to have. She was around his age, and there obviously weren't very men around, so it could have been the straightforward, everyday kind of proposition...but Dorran knew that in that case, she probably wouldn't have allowed him to leave.

  For the first time, he found himself beginning to wonder if there were any reasons for Lyrre and Alven coming to the castle than his mother had publicly mentioned. He loved his mother but she was very good at getting what she wanted without ever letting anyone know what it had been she had wanted in the first place. It was true many of the noble had started hinting that it was high time he marry.

  Sighing Dorran hoped that was not the case with Lyrre. She was a nice enough girl and it wasn’t as if he couldn’t be happy spending his life with her but being tricked into the relationship. He wasn’t sure why but he knew that if he found out that to be the case he would never be able to look at Lyrre with caring eyes.

  The way back to his room was slow and his mind raced over everything that had happened throughout the day. It had been a busy day one filled with nothing but questions. He wished things were s
imple again where all he had to worry about was what kind of practice he should have that day. Things had changed too quickly for him now even something as simple as a girl’s look he had to second guess and hope their wasn’t a hidden meaning or plot behind such actions. He knew that in the end he would have little choice over his life partner but that didn’t mean he had to enjoy the knowledge that every decision made about his life was done with the thought of what was best for Farlan not what was best for him.

  He was relieved that he didn’t run into any other distractions on the way to his room and was overjoyed when the old oaken door swung open revealing his soft bed that called his name. When you were overwhelmed the best medicine was to simply lie down and try to let your cares and worries fade away into dream land or at least that is what his mother had always said. They couldn’t ever disappear but a night’s reprieve was all some needed to get things straight. The saying wasn’t always true but more than once he had found that his mother’s words were helpful.

  CHAPTER XI

  Though no one knew when it might formally begin, the necessity of recruiting men for the muster loomed darkly over everyone in the barracks. More and more people arrived, at first only a few daily, but the trickle had not ceased growing since the muster had been announced. Most of the moderately experienced fighters had taken over the duty of training the new recruits in the basics to lessen the burden on the more experienced soldiers, who were already, with few exceptions, thoroughly occupied.

  Edith was gone more and more frequently. Dorran wanted to find her and ask what she was up to. Mostly because he feared she was intending to go against Thea's orders, but he couldn't manage it; he was busy training or talking with the muster officials the few times she showed up in the barracks, and while he occasionally hurried down to check at the Silver Crown in his spare time, she was never there. Simultaneously, the number of women in the practices started dropping rapidly. They seldom left entirely, but would show up less and less often. Most of the younger fighters figured that they were obeying Thea's orders, but Dorran saw some of the veterans giving each other pointed looks, and couldn't help thinking that he was right to be suspicious.