Chapter Twenty-Nine: Vox Populi, Vox Dei
The name of this chapter is a term in Latin and Ancient Tevene, and it is the fundamental basis of our nation and our universal mission. It means 'the voice of the people is the voice of God'. It means that no matter how many monarchs, how many nobles, how many rich men or how many experts lay their opinion, the last word is always that of the common people. Mages, aristocrats, merchants... they all live and die at the whim of the commoner, whether that of farmers and their food prices, disciplined citizen-soldiers and their force of arms, or the mob at a polling booth or in a riot.
Only by destroying society itself can any 'greater' person gain complete power without the consent of the governed. There will always be lines that the powerful cannot cross. Of course, this problem hasn't stopped the ambitious from trying. The example of the ancient elven empire is first in my mind when I think of this phrase. For so long regarded as a beacon of civilisation but now exposed as a magical tyranny that makes old Tevinter look like an Athenian democracy, it still had its rebels, whom brought their nation low enough for Tiberia and her ilk to usurp its place.
How is this relevant to my story?
At the beginning of July in the Thirty-Nineth year of the Dragon Age, a year to the day since my arrival and on the day of my homeland's declaration of independence, the Grand Convention of the Dales was in session in Hearth. It began a few days earlier with a ball to toast our great success, and continued afterwards to decide upon the fate of our new joint enterprise. I was looking forward to it immensely. The burden of command had been placed on my shoulders for too long I thought, and it was time for someone more willing to take my place. Namely Julie, who would in fact get her wish at long last.
That the voice of the people is the voice of God is a principle we believed in was taken as a given. On the fourth day of the convention, news from the north would arrive that would shake the very foundations of our entire project. The people would make a demand, no less terrible than if the Maker himself had commanded it. To refuse it would have meant destroying the new society we were in the process of bringing into the world. All our dreams of a peaceful life would have been gone.
And yet, in accepting the will of the Maker as spoken by the people, we made our greatest blunder.
We returned to Hearth from the Emprise in triumph, marching over the bridge with new weapons and uniforms through the eastern gate as the band played Scotland the Brave. The crowds followed us all the way from there, through the town square, out the southern gate and to L'Ambassade, where the families of most of our soldiers were waiting. The party that followed was truly something, completely wanton abandon of morals in favour of jubilation and celebration. Particularly among the elves and mages, who moved among the crowd as equals to humans in a way they hadn't before. My memories of the following few days are a complete haze, and I can only recall that we drank the town dry. The result six to nine months later is a memory that comes back to me much more clearly, and not for good reasons.
Many of the commoners' representatives were already present, and the nobles began to arrive too. It took a week to organise the Baron's palace as the meeting place of the Grand Convention of Free Orlais. It seemed that every tavern and bar was hosting some political meeting or another, as the representatives felt out the opinions of their fellows. Pierre's guards had to break up a fight or two as alcohol and politics mixed freely. With little else to do between lessons with the precocious Lana and arranging weapons practice, McNulty, Armen and I took to touring the streets, betting which meeting would descend into a brawl and who'd win if they did. That was a good bit of fun, at least until Armen started using magic to cheat.
Julie and Ciara disappeared into the same taverns and bars until the evening times for a reason that will become apparent, often times with Leha alongside. As the author of Le Sens Commun and a Dalish elf who had been in the middle of events from the beginning, their opinions held great sway and they worked hard to promote a fundamental set of values around which the commoners were rallying. The brawls usually happened when people disagreed about what should happen now that everyone agreed on those values. Or when Armen moved chairs from under people from a distance, leading them to believe opposing speakers responsible. That damned grin never moved from his face. He might have been one of the most intelligent persons I had ever met, but he was still a cocky young bastard at that time too.
Tam on the other hand was with a new set of people. She was very glad to be back to schooling the boys and girls. Despite her ferocity, she was not a soldier at heart. Her duties had now expanded to setting up Latin letter education to teenagers from noble and merchant families from all over our part of the Dales. In this, she applied her usual combination of stern discipline, kindness and patience. The results varied. Given that most of the people who had been volunteered were essentially hostages, I was quite impressed at how quickly she turned out useful civil servants. Their existing educations meant they knew basic administration and book-keeping. The beginnings of a real government bureaucracy, with all its uses and abuses, was taking shape.
Leha was certainly pleased anyway. After all, she had shouldered almost all of that burden before.
The week passed quickly.
I found myself in the closest approximation to a suit that I owned, in Baron and Baronness des Arbes' large ballroom. It was much like our ballrooms. Well varnished hardwood, painted walls in the red of the Des Arbes family, huge numbers of well-scented candles on the walls and on chandeliers, and a small army of highly dedicated servants.
Tam, Leha and Armen were with me, glasses of sparkling wine in hand, although only Leha was drinking it. They too were turned out in their best clothing. A form-fitting low-cut black dress for Tam, which drew lustful eyes with complete ease, including my own. Leha had a strange set of maroon robes with a lot of brown leather components hanging off of it, which had a story behind it that I did not yet know. Armen had actually changed from his usual mage's robes, wearing a set in a deep blue colour with red lining. So we all stood, waiting for the others, talking nonsense. I would have enjoyed myself a little more, if it wasn't for the cavalcade.
All the nobles with a right to be there and all the commoners who had been chosen to represent their people were present, along with various hangers on. Every single one of them entered and was announced something like this; "Francis de Sables, esquire, representative of Villeurbanne!" The seneschal was going completely overboard. Worse, every single guest approached our little group and bowed to me, usually with a "My lord" or "Honoured Viceroy" followed by a platitude.
I simply raised my glass in salute to each of them, which they accepted gracefully. The only ones who didn't participate in this were the des Arbes themselves, thank the Maker. Even Louise curtsied, which was just too weird, though I suspect that if I had not seen her in a dress before it would have been jawdropping. Eventually, after two hundred such entrances, the throng died down and I got a moment to breath. It couldn't have come too soon.
"Any of you know if I've been doing this right?" I asked the group, massaging the well-used wrist attached to the hand holding my drink. It had begun to occur to me that insulting people by accident might not be to the best opening to what was the Dales' version of the Continental Congress.
Tam turned to me with bright eyes. "Do you care?" she asked through a smirk, "If you really cared, you would have practised the correct way for hours." Military habits don't die, and one thing you get used to in the army is repetition.
"You're not wrong," I replied, "No one seems to be ticked off, so I guess they're letting it fly." Truth was that it was acceptable, albeit the bare minimum.
Leha snorted, shaking her head. Wondering what the hell I had said to get that response, I eyed her with raised eyebrows. She tilted her head right back, like I should know.
"Always the false modesty," the dwarf said with a wave of her hand, "Of course it hadn't occurred to you that you're important enough to make things up as you go along, and have that accepted as absolutely proper." Which was true. I hadn't considered that.
"How would you know that?" Armen said quickly, not looking at any of us, "Are we going to get a life tale from Leha Cadas at last?"
"Never," Leha said immediately, before taking a large gulp of her wine.
"Good, because I couldn't stomach your lying," replied Armen sharply, "It is something like how the Marquis DuRellion and our Qunari friends felt when they were brought in." They had largely not enjoyed the experience of being paraded in front of me, and expressed this mostly by glaring daggers. I gave them the same champagne glass salute that everyone else received. After all, I was on top. I had nothing to fear.
Reminded of our guests, my eyes flickered over to the corner. They looked no worse for wear in their captivity, which was unsurprising in DuRellion's case at least. He had simply taken up residence with the Baron, and the pair were drinking and speaking to each other apart from the real prisoners. Masks on, of course, just like everyone else save for ourselves. I have to admit that I narrowed my eyes at that sight. I had little doubt that the Marquis was relaying information back to the Empress, and I was right about that.
The Viddasala and Tallis on the other hand had spent their entire time between their capture and that night in a dungeon cell. It was satisfying to see that they didn't look underfed. I had left specific orders that they were not to be starved. Prison does funny things to people, so I had expected some level of degradation or even despair. Yet they seemed entirely unperturbed. Neither were dirty or thin, and both were wearing better-than-decent formal dresses in a shade of light purple. Yet another imposition for the display, of course. The only thing that marked them out from anyone else was the bright silverite chains around their wrists.
Tallis seemed to be flirting with one of her guards, at least. The young elf from the Free Army seemed to be enjoying that. Meanwhile, the Viddasala stared over at us, ignoring her subordinate. Tam was the main target of her attention, but I got a glance or two as well.
I leaned over to Tam, bringing myself closer to her. "Do you think I should have left the Viddasala in the dungeon?" I said quietly, "She looks like she might try something."
Tam's violet eyes peered back at me for a second, before moving to frame the prisoners. Both Tallis and her boss flinched. Understanding that Tallis must have been keeping tabs on us out of the corner of her eye, I crossed my arms and turned towards them. The attempt to resume what they were doing beforehand failed. Tallis' flirting became less enthusiastic, and the Viddasala looked up at the ceiling.
"Come on," Tam said, taking my arm, "We must speak to them." I nodded, and together we swept across the ballroom floor. People made way with great haste, bowing or curtsying aside. Felt a bit like Moses, I said to myself in amusement. I had to restrain myself further when we actually reached the prisoners' corner.
The Baron pulled DuRellion out of the way quickly, making his own path to another part of the room, leaving the Qunari and the guards. The elf that Tallis had been honeypotting immediately fixed his face from a dreamy, lustful smile to a stern, attentive look. The thought that I myself probably looked a lot like that when speaking to Tam and Julie did occur.
"At ease, private," I said to the guy, before he clenched his cheeks too hard and hurt himself. It had the desired effect. I looked back, and found Tam and the Viddasala locked in a staring competition. Tam was smaller by more than a few inches, but I wouldn't have bet against her even without the chains. Neither were trained in the antaam, so it would have been a dirty fight regardless. Tam's arm tightened around mine. So, no chance of breaking that deadlock.
"Tallis," I continued, addressing the more sane of the two prisoners, "How are you finding the party? Glad to be out of the basement for once, I would imagine."
"Don't think I appreciate the jewellery your seamstress gave us," Tallis quipped, holding up her chained wrists, "She was an ugly one too, no respect." The assassin shook the chains a little, as if that would add to her point.
"That's because she is a he named Robert, and he's a jailer, not a jeweller," I replied flatly, "Still, if you're making jokes, you must be in a good mood."
"This joke of a gathering is more than enough to put me in a good mood," Tallis replied, "The Qun has everything to gain from a divided Orlais. The South will crumble in its corruption, its Chantry will crumble, and our way will triumph. You are making your own doom."
I frowned at the woman. It didn't sound like she was entirely convinced herself. "Good, because I have news for you," I said, "I was hoping to wait to tell you later, but there's no point in waiting. I plan to release you. With the Convention's blessing, of course."
The Viddasala's head swivelled to me like a shot, widening red eyes meeting mine. "What?" she said in a deep and rough tone, "Why?" I didn't understand for a moment that she was terrified, but that only made me enjoy the moment.
"I want you to see and understand everything we are doing here," I said, "It is too late for you. What I know is already in the hands of people who will use that knowledge to destroy everything you stand for. Your mission has failed. Tevinter has already made contact. If you come for me again, I will give everything to the Vints."
"If the Qun comes for you again, basra vashedan, it will be with armies," Tallis warned, "The magisters will not save you."
"I don't think I'm worth risking an Exalted March for, and besides, by the time your army gets here, my army will be able to beat any other in Thedas," I replied, drawing on my lessons with Lana for the knowledge, "What do you think, Viddasala? Care to bet on your chances against ten thousand hardened veterans with gaatlok weapons?"
The Viddasala said nothing. She was staring at the ground and biting her lip, shaking her head from side to side ever so slightly. My satisfaction at verbally sparring with Tallis disappeared in an instant, replaced by recoiling shock. Nothing had been able to break the woman over the course of the entire time she had been imprisoned. She had said literally nothing to anyone but Tallis. Now she was shaking like a leaf. I looked to Tam for an explanation, and found her vicious smile.
"She knows what will happen when she returns a failure," Tam said slowly, "She was one of the three leaders of the Ben Hassrath. Failure is not an option. Her mind will be destroyed with qamek."
"Like the mage?" I asked. The mage who had begged Tam for her freedom. The mage that had her memories and personality wiped. The mage that haunted Tam's dreams, occasionally.
"Just like that," Tam replied, her smile dying. The idea wasn't as satisfying as she had first thought, and I couldn't help but agree. I could hardly rage against Templars for their use and abuse of Tranquility, and remain quiet here.
"Then I cannot in good conscience release you, Viddasala," I said, "Like I said, I want you to see what we are doing here. I think you'll see that it is better than the Qun."
The Viddasala seemed to quiver for a moment, as the indoctrination of her people and my mercy fought a battle in her head. I didn't doubt what would win out in the end, but for the moment, I had given her no reason to fail to doubt. Tallis remained deathly quiet, seemingly disturbed at what I had done to her fellow follower of the Qun. Neither spoke.
We left them, our mood somewhat soured.
Our return found us listening to Armen and Leha, who were in the midst of a debate about which was the better game, Wicked Grace or Diamondback. The mage greatly favoured Wicked Grace, because it was universal and required great deception. Leha preferred diamondback, because it was a game for the commoners only and didn't require someone to be a backstabbing 'whoreson'. This is pretty ironic in hindsight, but at the time, we still didn't know much about Leha. Well, everyone except Julie.
The argument went on without any contribution by Tam or I, and ended when a group of stragglers showed up. Just to screw with the audience, I saluted these ones. To my great bemusement, a wave of murmurs went around like a Mexican wave.
The seneschal rang a bell, and nodded to the Baron's band, who had been playing light dance music (or what Orlais thinks is dance music). The players immediately ceased, stooping to pick up some sheets of paper. I chuckled, and shook my head. Tam noticed immediately.
"What's so funny?" she asked.
"She always has to make an entrance," I replied. Tam began smirking again, to my relief. Any hint of talk about qamek or the Qun usually sent her into a bad mood for days afterwards.
Right on time, the seneschal raised his hand for silence, even though he pretty much already had it.
"Mesdames et messieurs," he proclaimed, "The High Chancellor and Vice-Chancellor of Free Orlais!"
The band struck up Hail to the Chief as soon as the hand for silence had been dropped, and in walked the first popularly elected leaders in the history of Thedas. Albeit that neither had actually faced competition for the posts, and they were elected indirectly.
Julie was wearing her deep-blue and red dress with the Orlesian style skirt, its edges now lined with gold thread. Her face covered with her half-mask in the same colours, with the addition of more eagle feathers along one side. Her hair wasn't tied back like the nobles though, falling onto her shoulder on the side opposite the feathers. A self confident smile on her face as she walked with long steps into the the ballroom.
Behind her was Ciara, in jaw-dropping new form. Dressed in a dress cut that would make Tam blush, in rich green silk with red lining, the front skirt restrained like Tam's, the back expanded out like a fan. Her blonde hair was tied back, and she had pearl earrings hanging off her very exposed ears. She had to make more steps in order to keep up with Julie, who was quite tall after all, but seemed to glide rather than walk all the same.
The pair stopped in the middle of the ballroom floor. Julie with a hand on her hip, Ciara with her two hands held together in front of her. As one, every common man bowed and every common woman curtsied, and repeated the same words.
"Vive la Haute-Chancelière! Vive la Vice-Chancelière!"
"Vive l'Orlais Libre!" Julie replied in a raucous, terribly pleased tone. The room parroted it, and I half expected her to raise her fist in the air. Instead, the pair walked on towards the other party-goers.
I was compelled by my nature to hum my satisfaction at Julie's appearance, and exchanged a glance with Tam that confirmed that she was pretty damn happy about it too. Armen was agape, a very comical look on someone who usually had more self control over what he was expressing at any given time. The odd one out was Leha.
"By the Stone, we're giving our fortune away to the dressmakers," the dwarf muttered, "We could have bought a hundred uniforms for the price of those two dresses." For someone who had lived in Orlais, she never really understood that such things were absolutely necessary expenses. It was a statement of power as much as anything else. Of course, three of us didn't care about that, we were just happy to see our lovers looked so well turned out.
"Shut up, Leha," Tam and I said simultaneously.
The scoff that came in return woke Armen up, and he gave Leha a nudge of his own as his customary grin returned.
Julie and Ciara received greetings from the lords and ladies, most notably Lady Doucy and Lord Clouet. Neither seemed one bit bothered at having to treat an elf as an equal. The de Villars seemed more happy though, it has to be said. Louise always had greater respect for the Dalish, as they are warriors by nature not peasants, and she had absolutely no problem showing deference to Ciara. By the time our commanders and the Grand-Cleric were being greeted, I was getting impatient.
They finally arrived after teasing Pierre and DuRellion, Julie making the former to bow to Ciara. What humiliation for a person of such high rank. The floor filled up again once they were done, and the dance music resumed in a more rapid tempo. The formalities had been observed, it was socialising time.
"Wow," I said, "I'm not sure if I'm thinking of ways to tear off the clothes or simply move them enough to..."
"Yeah, we get the point, loverboy," Leha interrupted, "Tam, put your tongue back in your mouth."
"Drunken dwarf," Tam complained.
"Sex-addled qunari," Leha snorted back, "Shall we continue?"
"Please, don't," Julie frowned, taking a glass from a hovering servant, "I command you."
"Giving out commands already?" Leha continued, "I guess you'll need the practice."
"I think I'll need the practice," Ciara added, "I don't think I'm ready."
"What do you mean?" asked Armen, "If people believed that, someone else would have stood against you. You're more than capable."
"They chose me because I am the nearest elf next to Julie and Sam," Ciara replied, folding her arms, "Well, the nearest who isn't a mage. They think I can leverage our friendship to make sure they're not forgotten."
"Can't you?" Julie asked, "It's not like I could have chosen a human for the position anyway, it might as well be someone I trust."
"Or a dwarf," added Leha, "Every six in ten commoners in our little kingdom are elves, whereas there is maybe one dwarf for every hundred elves, most of them damned worthless."
Ciara didn't seem reassured, and I felt the overpowering urge to help her. After all, she and I shared one thing in common; we had been put in a position of great power and influence more or less against our will, for the love of our companions.
"All you have to do is speak the truth as you understand it," I said to Ciara, "Leave the manoeuvres and backroom backstabbings to Julie, leave the military crap to me, leave the money to Leha, leave the magic politics to Armen, leave the future to Tam. You'll be our conscience. I know you haven't really cared for this whole thing much until now, but it's time for you to get into this."
"Sahrnia changed everything," Ciara nodded, "You're right. I have been too quiet. I have to do this."
"And you will," Tam said approvingly, before sipping on her wine. We all took that as a cue to toast quickly, and drank deeply in salute of Ciara's determination. Even Leha, toasting her future profits.
"Now, I think I will dance with the new vice-chancellor," said Armen, holding out his hand to Ciara, "If she will have me."
"She will," smirked Ciara, as she handed her half-full glass to Leha. Armen led her off into the throng of dancers, before putting one hand around her waist and the other threaded with hers. Together, they joined the sweeping motions of the dance in progress as if it was natural. Armen's education in Val Royeaux obviously consisted of more than learning to summon great amounts of fire, I remember thinking. He was certainly more cultured than I was. Ciara simply had excellent reflexes and coordination.
We all stayed for another three hours.
I danced with Tam, Julie, Cécile des Arbes, Louise de Villars and Soprano, in that order. I even offered to dance with Tallis, but she refused the jest in good spirits. Still, quite a surreal experience to dance with someone who once tried to have you executed and your bodyguard, all in front of your lovers... plural. I'm quite sure if I told someone from back home, they would think it was the start to a bad joke. Apart from dancing and drinking, of which there was plenty, I tried to take the pulse of the evening and what was going to happen over the next few days.
Everyone seemed very confident. The nobles were positively salivating over being granted lands from the lords we had defeated or killed, even though the new government would be taking the lions' share to fund itself. The commoners were even more militant, though their talk remained of 'consolidating the revolution' in the Dales rather than of any grand military adventures. The mages were the most conservative, speaking about transferring in more of their kind from other Circles and floating ideas about preserving what had already been won.
The night ended when Julie suddenly took Tam's hand, and began to pull her away outside. Naturally, I followed, knowing from experience where that was going. Julie stopped and held up a finger for me to stay. "Sorry Sam," she said, "It's a dangerous day."
I sighed my disappointment, but let them go with a kiss each. No reason for either of them to miss out. I was deep in thought when I nearly jumped out of my skin. Ciara and Armen approached from behind, as they said their goodbyes and left.
Leaving Leha alone with me. Slurping away at her drink. Damned iron stomach, she could have drunk even my old Army buddies under the table. Well, most of them. Witty bitch too.
"You should find someone else for tonight. Pretty sure that 'Soprano' or the stuck up chevalier would be game, if you're looking," she joked, "Getting all pent up at such a crucial moment might be dangerous."
"Are you offering?" I asked flatly, "There are rooms upstairs."
"Ha!"
The Convention began the next afternoon. The actual debating had happened long before this point. Most of the people involved already knew what their positions were, and what compromises would have to be made. It was a case of voting to see which ones would win out. Although I was still Viceroy and so the Empress' representative, I wasn't allowed into the Baron's residence during the sessions. I declared the the whole thing open and was promptly escorted out by Ciara, who found the whole thing hilarious. Yet another instance of Julie insisting on a political principle she read in one of my books.
"You're the executive!" she declared over breakfast when I asked her about it, "We can't let you interfere!" She would have done well in Civics class, I guess. I would like to believe she was sparing me from having to engage with so many politicians at once, but I very much doubt it. Most likely she didn't want some noble pricks speaking over her head for my approval. That might have been a real threat, both to her power and my sanity.
Not particularly interested anyway, I stayed at L'Ambassade, making sure McNulty and Soprano were on hand to guard the palace. Armen was the Libertarian Mage representative, Ciara had been elected for L'Ambassade itself and Julie for Hearth. As punishment for her many sins, Leha was forced to attend as both quartermaster and treasurer, to her great dismay. So, I was left alone with Tam, more or less, an opportunity we seized with aplomb.
The delegates seemed to handle all the easy questions on the first day, probably because they were all hungover as badly as Leha was.
Julie and Ciara were formally ratified in their positions, the independence of Free Orlais in making its own laws and everything else in our proclamation was reaffirmed, the exact nature of Celene's ceremonial and legal roles was established, and various symbols were adopted on behalf of the Nobles and People of the Dales. The halla was adopted as the national animal, a symbol for both commoners and aristocrats, humans and elves.
I was most pleased with the news that our banner was to be a circle of thirteen stars on a blue field, with thirteen trailing stripes of red and white. Twelve stars for every comté in Free Orlais, plus one for the Circle of Magi, six white stripes for the Circle and the five comtés of the original Barons' Revolt, and seven red stripes for those we had conquered in the Emprise and the Emerald Graves. Not quite Old Glory, but close enough. It was actually Ciara's handiwork, something to make me fall further in love with my new country. Can't say that it failed.
The second day was supposedly more tense.
While Tam was teaching children and I was taking inventory of our armoury, the delegates were discussing the question of who was a citizen, and what that meant exactly. The nobles naturally pressed their ancient rights. The elves demanded absolute equality. The human representatives were divided. Julie just barely managed to broker a ceasefire with a suggestion from the mages, and Ciara played her part in selling it to her people. The nobles would have extensive ceremonial privileges. Right of reply, access to my less than happy ass to address grievances, higher precedence in the order of things.
But serfdom would be no more. All feudal dues were to be changed to contractual obligations within two years. Aristocratic privilege and legal exemptions were abolished, all were to be equal before the law.
Most of the nobles assembled were perfectly fine with this arrangement. It made them first among equals, and they were smart enough to know perfectly well that their power didn't come from their blood but from their wealth. All obligations for military service, road maintenance and bridge construction were to be decided upon by a permanent assembly, along with taxes and estates. I'm told Lady Doucy was the voice that ended up swaying her fellow nobles, forward thinker that she always was. Pierre also spoke in favour, either because he still wanted Julie in his bed or because he saw how effective my own measures had been in creating a sense of community and loyalty. I'll leave the questions about the likelihood of either to the historians. I would like to believe it was because he had finally seen the light. His unwavering support was a high price to pay to impress a woman, after all.
Others were very unhappy, but kept quiet until the worst possible moment. The snakes.
The third day was supposed to be another easy one, before the fourth day brought the most dangerous problem of all; taxes. It was expected that negotiations about those would take weeks. So, they all gathered in the palace once again to ease into it. The agenda was set; what to do about the Army. The nobles wanted to disband all of it except the Peacekeepers, save for de Villars. Their eyes were on how much they would be taxed to pay, feed and arm all of the soldiers. To their mind, the fighting was over. The commoners and mages wanted to expand the army, and adopt the militias that were forming all over the Dales as La Garde Nationale. Neither group believed that the Empire would tolerate an independent region, elves in government, or that the Templars would allow further freedom for mages. Ferelden had already become a problem.
The mages and commoners together were pretty much an unstoppable coalition, and it looked like they would get their way. Reluctantly. There was talk of creating a military academy for nobles, provided I agreed to teach in it. Regardless, as the morning became the afternoon, it looked like agreement would be reached.
We couldn't know what was happening in Jader and Halamshiral.
The Fourth of July started in a pretty typical fashion for me; gunplay.
Mike's newest troopers were training with their new firelances, eighty or so men and women aiming at targets set up in front of a huge mound about two hundred yards away. I was sat down, taking a break from my lessons, whistling Yankee Doodle and drinking water. The sun was damned fierce that day, and so I was stripped down to just my pants and boots again, sunglasses on. Tam was on a chair beside me, also wearing shades. On her lap, Lana was sitting with the Chant of Light in her hands, swinging her legs a little. We watched Mike roar commands at the FNGs, probably making their nervousness a little worse in the process.
It was all very relaxing, until I made the mistake of snickering. A thin private made the error of leaving her ramrod in the barrel after reloading. She took aim and fired the stick away with a metallic twang, giving everyone else on the range pause. They stopped firing and turned to the poor woman in horror, afraid what their superior would make of it. Perfectly timed so that the only noise that could be heard was my chuckling. Mike was displeased, and snatched the musket out of the woman's hands.
"Private, twenty pushups," she ordered, before turning to me, "Marquis, front and centre!"
Not quite sure where she got the idea that she could order me around, I considered reprimanding her on the spot. I must have been frowning, because Mike pointed at a spot off to her left at the end of the ranks. The privates glanced at each other nervously.
"Best do what she says," Tam said, "That one is fierce." Yeah, no shit Sherlock. I heaved myself out of my chair, grabbing my t-shirt from the arm and throwing it over myself, before wandering casually to the spot indicated.
Mike nodded to me, and turned to the nearest private.
"Your weapon," she said, hand out. The soldier handed the firelance over with great haste. As soon as Mike had it, she shoved it into my chest. I took hold of it quickly.
"General Order No.2 of the Peacekeeper Corps," Mike quoted, "All soldiers bearing firearms will be capable of shooting three rounds per minute or will drill daily for two hours until such a time as they can."
"I know the order, Mike," I said, "I gave it."
"Can you shoot three rounds per minute, my lord?" she asked, without so much as a hint of deference. There was no deflecting her.
"I don't need to," I replied, patting the handcannon on my hip, "But I know what you're going to say. What if I run out of bullets, what if it's damaged, ammunition doesn't grow on trees."
"You'll practice until you can fire three a minute," Mike said, "Just like everyone else." At that moment, I understood why most nobles had to be negotiated into agreeing to equality before the law.
"Gotcha," I replied, rolling my eyes, "Any reason why I shouldn't punish you for insubordination?"
"I'm too good to lose," Mike replied with complete sincerity. She handed over a belt and bandolier of cartridges. I grabbed it out of her grasp, and began putting it on.
Tam cackled with glee, almost sending Lana off of her perch. Mike's eyes moved that way, turning into a stare.
"What about you?" the Colonel asked Tam, "Shouldn't you be practising too?"
"I'm not in the army, technically," Tam replied, wiping her eyes, "You can't order me around."
Mike scowled, and looked to me. I shook my head, making it perfectly clear I wasn't going to order Tam to take part either. Julie had something special planned for Tam when it came to our new weapons, and besides that, the Qunari was already a damned fine shot with a longbow. She could take care of herself.
So, I stepped up to the plate and began drilling with the flintlock firelance. I soon discovered that I was bloody slow, even with the innovations Julie had designed into the thing. To my eternal embarrassment, the privates were significantly faster than I was, very nearly getting to the three per minute target if my watch was working as it should have. I was barely managing one or two a minute. The cartridges were fiddly as hell, and getting the ramrod in without the muscle memory was tedious. I was cursing under my breath by the fifth shot.
In a very short time, the privates were smiling to themselves, revealing Mike's true motivation. Now that they were outshooting the Viceroy, everyone's morale was much improved. I ran into this trap as soon as I started laughing. I guess I have a different leadership style, but it's hard to deny that Mike's own was pretty good.
"Sam, can I continue the lesson?" Lana asked me from behind, "Since you're going to be there for a while?"
A ripple of laughter went through the ranks, Mike joining in with a bark of her own. My inferiority in this task was clear enough for a child to see.
"Sure, why not," I said, wiping my forehead, "Where were we?"
"Hessarian," Lana said, opening the Chant near the end, "What do you know about him?"
"Tevinter guy, had Andraste killed but followed her teachings afterwards," I said, "The Grand-Cleric is fond of mentioning him to me." Liked to compare me to him as well. Another person the Maker had touched personally. Hessarian is related to Tiberius, by the way, via a now-extinct branch of that family. The whole bloodline converted with him. Aurelia did like to mention it.
"He ordered Andraste burned, but the Maker spoke to him, and to save her the pain, he drove his sword through her," Lana explained, reading, "He took up the Chant of Light ten years later, and declared it the official faith of the Imperium. Andraste's light spread throughout the lands, throughout the hearts of the common folk. The Old Gods were strangled by the light."
"How violent," Tam remarked, "Is this really something you should be teaching to children?" Her protective-motherly instincts being honed to a point, of course.
The little girl fidgeted for a moment. "Best we know the truth," Lana insisted, "Lies about don't protect anyone."
"Those are the words of the priestess," Tam replied to the child, "Not your own."
"Definitely," I said. Lana began pouting a little, flicking through the pages of her book for the next part of the lesson she wanted to deliver.
"Faith is important to a soldier," Mike added, "Whether it is in the Maker, their superiors or their cause." The Colonel looked at me pointedly, no doubt reminding me of our conversation at Sahrnia.
"Or the paychest they're to receive," Tam said sternly, "Not everyone is as honourable as you, Colonel."
I brought up the firelance to fire again, took aim, and with a satisfying bang and a blinding smoke cloud, I near-decapitated the target in a shower of splinters. I might not be able to fire quickly, but I was a damn good shot as always. Though Julie had the potential to be better, if she spent less time tinkering. I glanced at Mike for her reaction with a cocked eyebrow, but she didn't seem all that impressed. She was a good shot too.
Not getting the rise out of her that I had hoped, I brought the weapon around to reload, but stopped as the sound of hooves filled the air. Leha appeared around the corner of the château on her pony, waving as she came towards us.
"We need you, quickly!" she said breathlessly, "Both of you. Maybe even these guys too." Tam and I both moved closer, so we could have some privacy. The troopers were back to looking nervous.
"What's happened?" I asked, "Are we under attack?"
"The delegates are at each other's throats," Leha replied, "And those two aren't helping things."
"Those two?" Tam asked, "Who do you mean?"
"Julie and Ciara," Leha said, "There's been a disagreement."
I pinched the bridge of my nose. I had no idea what the hell that meant. A disagreement that required my presence and maybe the presence of my soldiers was bad enough, but if Leha was right, she meant that the disagreement was between Ciara and Julie. What could possibly come between those two? I was at a complete loss.
However, it was perfectly obvious that Leha had come rushing for bad reasons. I nodded, and turned to Mike.
"Colonel, secure the château grounds," I said, falling naturally into command, "I want the place on lockdown, and I want your regiment put into the town. I don't want a repeat episode of rioting."
"Yes, my lord," Mike replied, "I'll task a team to keep the kid safe."
"I'd appreciate that," I said, "Tam, let's get the horses."
Tam, Leha and I rode hard to get to the Baron's palace, going around the town walls rather than through the traffic of the streets. We entered by the north gate and immediately turned into the nobles' quarter. The guard pickets waved us through. As we got closer to the palace, sounds of shouting got louder.
Soprano and McNulty were waiting at the gate in full battle dress, with the exception of their blue berets.
"Sam, thank the Maker you're here," McNulty exclaimed, throwing his arms up, "We have no idea what to do!"
"More like we don't have the authority to do what is necessary," Soprano rebuked, "Considering who is in there."
As if to make their point, another ruckus echoed from the small courtyard beyond, out of the half-open doors to the ballroom. It died down, or halfway at least, but the rumbles of discontent were enough to convince me that the situation was serious.
"That is not good," said Tam, as we dismounted.
"What happened?" I asked Leha, "I need all the information."
"It's best if you see for yourself," Leha replied, "Julie told me to show you, not waste time explaining."
Useless as an ashtray on a motorcycle, that was. I glared at the dwarf for not breaking her word. Luckily, my officers were under no obligation to keep their mouths shut.
"Two groups came in together claiming to be from Jader and Halamshiral during the lunch break," Soprano said, "Some of the people from the north verified that, and they were let in at the start of the second session. They locked up the place tight, until Madame Cadas left. Things started getting heated soon after. That's all we know."
"Thank you Colonel," I said, "Bring up two squads." Soprano clicked her fingers, and gave the orders to a runner, who sprinted off out of the gates and around the corner towards the town barracks nearby."
The noise of arguing rose. By the time Sergeant Shovels arrived with eighteen of the Rangers and another six Grenadiers, the sounds had progressed from angry talk to what could only be a fistfight. Shouts, chairs slamming on the floor, the grunts of physical exertion. It was only a matter of time before the mages did something, and then there would be no going back.
"Fuck," I said, "Fix bayonets."
"FIX BAYONETS!" Shovels repeated. The soldiers did as they were told, affixing the blades to the ends of their firelances quickly rather than in tune with one another. No need for parade ground precision here.
"With me," I said loudly, "Do not fire, do not stab, unless I give an express command. If I do something, do not take that as an order to attack. Understood?!"
"Yes, my lord!"
I nodded to Tam to join me in the front. She drew her longsword and dagger, and stood beside me.
"No one leaves this place until I do," I said to McNulty. He saluted, understanding my meaning. The events inside were not for public consumption. Historians may want to take notes at this point.
I marched to the doors, the soldiers following behind me in close order with their weapons shouldered, and swung the thing open from a crack until you could have fit a tank in the space. Light from the high windows illuminated the scene, and what a scene it was.
Julie stood in her Earth uniform at the back on top of the raised dias, out of her seat and shouting for order. Beside her was Louise, in a grey dress uniform but holding her own sword and shield, a barrier to what was happening on the floor. It was a mighty brawl in progress. People were in the midst of attempting to pummel each other to a fine pulp with their fists. There didn't seem to be any racial divide, elves and humans seemed perfectly happy to have a go at their own kind. Both sported bloody noses and bruises.
The clothes were a clue though. Among the well-made outfits of the delegates, there was a good number of what can only be described as peasants' tunics. Cécile des Arbes had personally made sure that everyone attending the convention would have something worthy of their new station, so even our peasant representatives were well dressed. It appeared the newcomers had instigated the melee.
I was not amused. The combatants nearest the doorway had slowly caught our presences, and began backing off, but those further into the room clearly hadn't got the picture. I balanced the musket Mike had given me on my hip, cocked the flint with my thumb, and fired it into the ceiling. The deep thump of the discharge boomed around the room, followed by the ping impact of the shot on the stone roof. The fighting stopped as if someone had pulled a lever, and heads craned to find the source of the noise.
Glad that I had made my point, I stepped into the room, Tam at my side again. The soldiers filed in too, lowering their weapons so that their bayonets were pointing at the throng.
"What is this mess?!" I growled, "Back to your damned seats!"
Julie sat down and balanced her head on her hand and arm, as Leha ran up to join her. The delegates began complying when they saw that, picking up chairs that had been thrown aside and righting the tables, putting them back into line with the others.
The factions became visible as they did so. The nobles sat to the right, contempt evident in their tightened body language. More wealthy commoners padded out that side of the room too, though a good number of them had been involved in the fighting. To the left were the less well-off and those who lived close to Hearth. What I thought most interesting was where the mages were sitting. Armen was with the Hearthlanders, Velarana with the wealthier commoners, Valle with the nobles. The mages had not only aligned with the non-magical factions, but had seemed to merge into the leadership of each.
This is the reason today's political factions are still named after the old Circle fraternities. The Libertarians sided with the radical commoners, whom were by far the most numerous. The Aequitarians sided with the commoners who had more to lose, being moderates. The Lucrosians sided with the richest for the obvious reasons; they were entrepreneurs through and through. It's a clear indicator of my distaste for politics that I hadn't seen this trend coming, and it began to irritate me. I had taken my eye off the ball, and it seemed to have come back to bite me in the ass.
The 'guests' were less cooperative, two small groups gathering together on the sides, chattering to each other. They looked dishevelled, their clothes dirty and their boots well-worn. Most had bags under their eyes too, indicating that they hadn't slept in a good while. They were divided by race, I noted.
Ciara was standing among the elves, her hands moving in calming motions as the others in the group pointed at me. The humans stood nearly silently, staring. Not in a hostile manner, but starstruck. I saw hope in their eyes, and wondered why I found that dangerous.
"Now that I have the attention of the audience," I continued, looking to Julie as I cradled the firelance, "What seems to be the trouble, Chancellor?"
A man from the human group emerged from their cluster. He was in his forties, with greying black hair and rough tanned skin. He approached me, quite literally hat in hand. A tricorne no less.
"Viceroy, if I may explain..." he began. I grimaced, not wanting to hear it from him. I moved my right hand from the stock of the firelance to the butt of my handcannon, but it was ultimately unnecessary.
Tam moved in front of him, and rested her swordpoint on his chest. He backed off quickly, but she followed, keeping the point on him gently until he was back among his group.
"He didn't ask you," said Tam softly, "You'll get your turn." The man nodded, understanding both the truth of her words, and the threat behind them if he didn't go along with it.
Julie sighed, rose again from her seat. She stepped onto the lower level of the dais beside Louise, who hadn't resumed her place with the nobles. She took a deep breath before speaking.
"The Grand Convention wishes to know the state of the army," said Julie in a formal tone, rolling her eyes, "And whether we are ready to fight beyond our part of the Dales if need-be."
My eyebrows gathered in confusion. It was a strange thing to inquire about, for one particular reason. "Is the Convention aware that you are very well informed about that?" I asked, "Or is there something specific that only I know?"
Julie put her hands on her hips, her eyes tracking to Ciara.
"They want to hear it from you," she said, "They trust you, as someone the Maker has sent to save us from the tyrannies of the world." There was much nodding from the delegates and the guests alike, a 'hear-hear' or two. I felt my throat close ever so slightly in consternation, not liking that people were relying on my word for those sorts of reasons. I paused for a moment, gathering my thoughts.
"Why?" I asked, turning my question to the room generally, "Why do you all want to know about the army? What's the hurry?"
"Things have started happening in the north," Julie said, "We will start with Jader. Monsieur Pecheur, it's your turn." She climbed back up to her seat, and settled in to hear the account. The man who had stepped forward before, did so again and bowed to her.
"Thank you, High Chancellor," he said.
"Get on with it," Julie replied.
"Three weeks ago, word about Sahrnia reached us. The men of Jader began gathering to discuss how to join Free Orlais, meeting with the elders of the elves in the Alienage, spreading copies of Le Sens Commun and other writings," Pecheur said, "Lady Seryl didn't appreciate that. The guards began cracking down, sealing off the alienage and harassing us."
Memorised reports sprung up in my mind, as Leha's contacts gave good accounts to us of what was happening elsewhere in Orlais and beyond. Or what we thought of as good reports, at any rate. The latest from Jader had mentioned what he was describing.
"We heard there was unrest," I said, "Riots."
"They were no riots," Pecheur replied, gaining confidence, "Last week, we smuggled our families out on our fishing boats, gathered together and tried to seize the city. We would have set the royal fleets ablaze, but they were out chasing pirates. So instead, we laid siege to the high quarter."
Understanding the folly of that action, I frowned.
Jader was a border city, sat right beside Ferelden and the end of the Frostback Mountains. Part of Ferelden, if you ask a Fereldan commoner. Part of the Avvarlands, if you ask one of those barbarians. As such, it was one of the strongest fortresses in Thedas. Its walls of green stone were thick, and laid as multi-layer defences. Sure, commoners looking to take the city had a better chance from within than an attacking army had from outside, but the inner defences weren't bad either. I knew all of this, because I figured that eventually we would have to take the city. Leha's people had gotten us detailed sketches of the place.
"You lost," I stated.
"The citadel was too strong," Pecheur confirmed, "We managed to open the alienage, but Lady Seryl just sat in her castle until reinforcements from the countryside arrived. By then, our boats had returned, and we fled on them as the soldiers rampaged through the streets. Most of the elves refused to flee, their families were still there. Our own are coming upriver now."
"They'll be provided for," Julie said, "I swear it." The man bowed a second time, more deeply. We would settle the refugees to the east of Hearth, thousands of them. There were a number of villages in decline out there that we intended to regenerate.
"So you want to know if our army could take Jader?" I asked, "It certainly could, without question."
The man's face lit up, but a collective grumble of discontent from the nobles precluded any further discussion. A figure among the nobles stood up. It was Henri Clouet.
"Lady Seryl is a loyal ally of the Empress!" the lord complained, "Are we all not loyal subjects?! Isn't that why we fought until now?!"
The commoners both poor and rich shouted insults back. They certainly hadn't taken up arms to fight for Celene, no matter how many times we had said that. Clouet shouted insults back, calling the Libertarians in particular a bunch of rabble rousers. Pierre managed to get him to sit down, and stood up to speak himself. I roared for quiet, which I got immediately, and indicated for him to speak. I wanted to hear what he had to say.
"Lord Clouet is right about one thing, it would be war against the Empire," Pierre said, "If we take Halamshiral and attack Jader, we will be vulnerable, stretched thin. We can raise sixty thousand trained troops at the most. Our enemies can raise far more than that."
He wasn't wrong, though only a fraction of those facing us would be professional soldiers, and none would have firearms or blackpowder artillery. But it was something else that was the real trouble.
"Take Halamshiral?" I asked, "Why would we take Halamshiral? That would mean war with the whole Empire, Celene and Gaspard both."
Ciara moved out of the elven group. "The city is on the edge of rebellion," she said, "The Comte d'Halamshiral is refusing to allow elves to emigrate south to join us. That was bad enough, but now his chevaliers are out for blood. A lord's carriage ran over a child, the neighbourhood attacked, and they set up barricades."
"Halamshiral is a Crownland," I said, "You understand that, right?"
"Why does that matter?!" Ciara asked, her voice rising, "The chevaliers will kill and kill until the everyone has submitted or has died. It's what they do. We must save the people of Halamshiral!"
A roar of agreement erupted from the Libertarians, joined by some of the Aequitarians. They all stamped their feet, filling the air with an uneven beat to maximise the weight of their opinion. The nobles and merchants remained silent. I felt as if an unstoppable force had just been unleashed, and I wasn't wrong. Now it was a matter of directing it, but I didn't know how. Not yet.
Julie held up her hand, and the place quieted. Respect for her was universal, except perhaps among the nobles.
"You know me, I would gladly save every man, woman and child if I could," she said, "If it was Jader alone, we could march off tomorrow, but if we attack Halamshiral, we will face the full might of Orlais. It won't just be our fellow citizens there that will die, but all of us. Everything we have built in the past year, all of your freedoms, will be at stake. Are you ready to put your lives, your families, your treasure and your liberty under threat for this?"
The nobles rose and gave applause, but Julie did not pay them any heed. Her eyes narrowed. She was arguing very much against her instincts, thinking that such an attack was suicide. She just let the approval of those with no interest in saving anyone wash over her like unavoidable rain. I looked across to Ciara and those behind her. Their faces were downcast, eyes filled with tears, hands shaking with sheer terror for loved ones. The understanding that there would be no help was sending them into despair. A quick glance at the men from Jader, and the same was written all over them.
Despair is dangerous to any revolution.
"There must be a way!" Ciara declared, "If Halamshiral and Jader are crushed, how long until the Empress comes for us?!"
She rounded on the nobles. "You think you'll be immune when our new freedoms become inconvenient?! Did you think that Val Royeaux would let you rule yourselves?!" she shouted, her fists clenched under her knuckles turned white, "You'll be killed too!"
The whole room was as quiet as a crypt, save for Ciara's panting. She had used too much breath. She turned away, her hand over her face. Armen got up and ran over, bringing her into an embrace to try and calm her down.
That was the final straw for me.
"She's right," I said, not believing the words were coming out of my mouth, "If it's tomorrow, next year or in ten years time, eventually the Empress or Gaspard will attempt to reassert control of these lands."
"Then we fight now," Armen said, "Before the fight comes to us."
"The army is not ready," I replied, "But it can be in a month, two at the most."
"Ready to face off against the full might of the royal armies?" Clouet said, incredulous, "In a month?! Impossible."
"Every day that passes, we gain an advantage," Julie said, "Our troops are better trained, better equipped, better supplied, and battle hardened. If the Viceroy believes we can win, then I recommend that we take the vote."
"I trust the Viceroy's word," said Pierre, "But what will the cost be, even if we do win?"
"You should know that it's going to be close," I replied quickly, "This won't be like Sahrnia. It'll likely take years."
A cacophony of talking began. It was softer, less aggressive. The convention was coming together again. Just in time too. I walked over to Armen and Ciara. They spoke quietly to each other, before noticing me.
"Thank you," said Ciara, tears in her eyes, "I didn't doubt you... but thank you." She was Dalish. Her culture had taught her about the numerous failures and disasters of the elves throughout history, and she feared having to watch another, helpless. A fear I shared.
"Julie was right to be cautious," I replied, looking at my lover as she shouted at the crowd for order, "But you're right. The Empire would have struck sooner or later."
"Or the Chantry," said Armen, "That people are so accepting of mages here is another reason for them to destroy us." I nodded. We would indeed be seeing Templars in the ranks of our enemies once more.
"Both of you still have work to do. The vote's not won yet, but I've done all I can," I said, "Come on Tam, let's get out of here."
Tam sheathed her sword and dagger, and we walked towards the troops again. The whole ballroom was once again speaking on civil terms, with Julie firmly back in command of the situation. The soldiers seemed to be on edge, but I waved them off.
"Crisis averted," I said to Sergeant Shovels, "Stand down." The soldiers filed out, somewhat reluctantly.
"What now?" Tam asked, as we went out into the sun again.
"Now, I need to sit down with a whole lot of vodka, and think about how I'm going to defeat armies ten times the size of ours," I said, "We've really bitten off more than we can chew." Tam took my hand, threading our fingers, and brought me into a hug.
"We can't lose," she said, "We won't." I wish I could say now that I shared her confidence.
The Convention voted for war six hours later.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I have to say once again that the support you guys have been giving me for this story has been great. I find myself highly motivated to get the stuff out thanks to it. Even got the Fourth of July chapter out on the Fourth of July!
Happy Birthday, Yankland.
As always, rolling edits may be made. I have three other stories at least floating about in my head, excluding original work, so bear with me.
Darth Slainous: Indeed it is changing Thedas, and will change more to come.
Drgyen: Sam's kindness towards elves will factor in Trespasser's ending, but Solas isn't exactly fighting for a racially pluralistic society...
Sam wasn't an ungrateful redneck so much as someone with an identity crisis in his youth, one that was resolved by his army experience.
The demon Imshael is apprehended by the Dalish at the time of these chapters, so he won't be showing up.
American-Gentleman96: What a great coincidence your nickname is!
It's heavily implied by the Tamassrans disallowing interbreeding that humans and qunari can have children. Given that elf-human and dwarf-human pairs can have children, it's very very likely that qunari-human pairs can too. At least, that's my opinion. I always had a sneaking suspicion that 'hornless' qunari are in fact half-human. Yes, that includes Sten.
5 Coloured Walker: I have absolutely no problem with you keeping the count up.
Mekh'Iis En'Ghae'rhon: Glad you like the worldbuilding. Certainly, there will be more exploration of Earth influence on Thedosian cultures, either in this story, or in a separate 'Outlanders' story that I'm trying to resist writing because I have too many stories already.
Manipulative Other pulling the strings? Never.
AlphaCenturion: Thanks very much, keep reading!
