Mad Queen, page 10
Other voices joined the chorus of criticism, additional council members rising from their seats as the fallout of Thomas' decision became clear.
Thomas’ expression showed calm determination despite the storm of criticism breaking around him. He had expected this outburst. It was the primary reason he hadn’t been eager to share the news.
“Order!” Ossara cried again, banging her staff against the floor. “Silence! All of you! The question is put to Sir Dragon. Allow him the opportunity to answer.”
The Council slowly quieted, the members grudgingly returning to their seats. There were still a multitude of angry faces among them. Very few remained neutral, but he had the sense that the ones who did already understood what he was about to explain.
“She wasn't my prisoner," he answered, Arthur’s essence helping to bolster his courage and keep his voice calm. “She was my ally. We had an agreement that she would provide the power necessary to reach Kheir-Lossan. I promised her that I would help her recover her son’s body, and provide safe passage back to her empire.”
A lone representative among the assembly jumped to his feet. "An agreement with a tyrant!" he shot back, his face flushed with indignation as he shook his raised fist. "What value does such a promise hold when weighed against the lives of every being she'll murder in her promised retribution?”
"My word isn’t conditional on the character of those who receive it," Thomas replied firmly. "When I give my promise, it becomes sacred regardless of who benefits or what consequences follow. The moment I start breaking oaths because it’s practical or convenient, I become no different from the enemies we fight."
An elderly council woman struggled to her feet, her weathered features showing profound frustration. "Daeardrayke, we understand the importance of honor," she said, "but surely such principles must be balanced against practical necessity. How many innocent lives could have been saved if you had chosen pragmatism over idealism?"
"I don't know," Thomas admitted, the honesty of his response barely cutting through the chamber's pursuant clamor. He raised his voice. "Perhaps hundreds of thousands, perhaps millions. Perhaps even more, but I do know that the moment we start breaking oaths because it serves our interests, we lose the moral authority that justifies our resistance in the first place." He locked eyes with the woman, Arthur’s essence flowing through his words. “And I would hardly call it ideal. Only necessary.”
The councilwoman’s face flushed, her eyes widened and she sat down in silence. A council member from the middle rows leaned forward, his expression showing genuine confusion rather than accusation. "But she's not truly an ally, is she? Your agreement was temporary, born of mutual necessity rather than shared values, not to mention she didn’t uphold her end of it. Surely that changes the moral calculation."
Thomas considered the question carefully, recognizing the complexity it raised while maintaining his fundamental position. "The temporary nature of our alliance doesn't diminish my obligation to honor the terms we agreed upon. If anything, it makes that obligation more important, proving that my word can be trusted even when circumstances change."
"Even when that trust leads to war before we’ll be ready to meet it?" another voice called out from the back rows. "Even when honoring your promise condemns entire worlds to a reconquest that will certainly kill thousands if not millions?"
"Yes," Thomas replied without hesitation, the single word falling into the chamber like a stone into still water. "Because the alternative is to become the kind of being who makes promises only when they're convenient to keep. If that's what we become, then we've already lost everything worth fighting for."
The stark simplicity of his position deflated some of the criticism, though Thomas could see persistent doubt in many expressions. Several council members exchanged glances that suggested they understood his reasoning while remaining unconvinced by its practical wisdom.
An older man in the front row rose with deliberate dignity. "Daeardrayke, I respect your commitment to principle. But principle that ignores such dire consequences can become its own form of cruelty. How do you reconcile your honor with the suffering that will result from this decision?"
The question struck at the heart of the issue in a way that Thomas wouldn’t have been able to justify without the aid of Arthur’s wisdom flowing through him. "I can't reconcile them," Thomas said. "I accept full responsibility for whatever suffering results from my choice, but I also accept that some principles are worth upholding regardless of cost, because abandoning them guarantees the kind of moral corruption that makes victory meaningless." He paused, gathering strength for the conclusion that would define his position. "If we defeat Morgana by becoming like her then we haven't really won anything. We've just replaced one tyrant with another."
He could see the message reach a few more council members, but there were still many who clearly disagreed. Before they could pepper him with more questions, Ossara cracked her staff against the floor.
“That’s enough,” she said. “Sir Dragon has made his position clear, and nothing we say will change the fact that he did allow Morgana to disembark his ship alive, and she did pronounce their treaty void due to a clause not upheld, whether intentionally or not.” She turned to Thomas. “Is all of that correct?”
“It is,” he confirmed.
She shifted closer to him then, lowering her voice so only he could hear. “I understand your reasoning, Captain Drake. The burden of leadership is a heavy one, and I don’t envy you the task you’ve undertaken. Just know that I’m on your side.”
“Thank you, High Elder,” he replied.
An elderly councilman in the third row rose to his feet. “High Elder, if I may?”
“The Council recognizes Elder Brusque of Weeping Tree in the Coastal Grove,” she replied.
"High Elder, fellow council members," Brusque said, his voice quavering with age and fear, "we must face the reality of our situation. Queen Morgana commands the largest military force in the galaxy, supported by resources that dwarf our own capabilities. Clearly, six months is insufficient time to build defenses that could withstand such an assault."
His words sent fresh waves of anxiety through the chamber, several members nodding agreement despite their obvious reluctance to acknowledge such harsh truths. Brusque continued with growing conviction, his voice gaining strength as he outlined his proposed solution.
"I move that we immediately dispatch a delegation to Draconia with an offer to rejoin the Empire voluntarily," he declared. "If we renounce our independence now, before Queen Morgana begins her campaign, we might negotiate terms that preserve some measure of autonomy while avoiding the devastation that would accompany forcible reconquest."
The suggestion triggered immediate and violent opposition from other council members, voices raised in outrage at the proposal to surrender their hard-won freedom without even attempting resistance. "Never!" a younger councilwoman called out from the back rows, her voice carrying clearly despite the surrounding chaos. "We've already paid too high a price for our independence to simply hand it back to the tyrant who oppressed us for decades!"
"Better alive and subservient than dead and free!" Brusque shot back, his fear overriding any concern for diplomatic language. "What good is independence if it leads to the annihilation of our entire civilization?"
The debate continued to rage around them as more arguments broke out across the chamber as representatives debated the merits of capitulation versus defiance, their voices rising to near-shouting levels as emotions overwhelmed diplomatic restraint as council members chose sides to grapple with impossible choices that offered no clear path to survival.
Thomas watched the proceedings with growing dismay, recognizing the fear that drove both positions while understanding that panic would accomplish nothing useful. When the volume reached levels that threatened to drown out individual voices entirely, Ossara rapped her staff against the floor, once more quieting the chamber.
"Council members," Thomas said, his voice carrying over the fading arguments with the kind of commanding presence and absolute conviction that Arthur's essence provided. "I understand your fear. I share your concerns about the magnitude of the challenge we face. But I cannot accept the assumption that resistance is futile." He paused, allowing his words to settle before continuing with growing passion. "Yes, we are only two free worlds, Avalyeth and Falias standing alone against an empire that commands hundreds of warships and millions of soldiers. But we hold the righteous and moral high ground. When I first arrived here in Avalon, the resistance was composed of small separatists groups that numbered in only hundreds of members. There was no hope of rebellion. No thought that anyone could stand against the Draconite and succeed. But here we are. We succeeded.”
Arthur’s essence burned in him like liquid fire, joining his own passion as he swept his gaze around the room, meeting the eyes of the dissident council members with furious strength. “The people have seen that they can stand against the Draconite and win. The fire of rebellion is spreading across the galaxy. Every day, more worlds question Morgana's rule. Every victory we achieve, every stand we take, inspires others to believe that change is possible."
Thomas could see his words having an effect, fear giving way to tentative hope in various expressions as council members considered alternatives to despair. He pressed his advantage with growing confidence. "Six months may seem insufficient, but freedom spreads like a virus, gaining momentum with each new people who are liberated,” he continued. “And as you know, many planets under Draconite control are lightly garrisoned, monitored primarily by the same beings they trample under their claws because those people have no other choices. What if we give them a choice? What if we show them that a new way is possible? How many planets could we liberate? How many assets could we capture? I believe quite a few. I believe enough to repel any attack Morgana might launch. But I’ll go further than that. I believe we can take the fight to her before then. That when six months expire, Morgana will regret cancelling the agreement, or at least, in her arrogance, offering us those six months.”
Thomas continued looking out on them as silence reigned. When his eyes crossed over his crew in the front rows, Percival offered an enthusiastic thumbs-up, and Kaelithan nodded his support.
Elder Brusque rose again, his expression showing a mixture of admiration and persistent doubt. "Your words are inspiring, Daeardrayke, but inspiration alone won’t stop imperial starships. What concrete plans do you propose?"
“I’m not a military tactician,” Thomas replied. “Perhaps General Calithar can weigh in on more specific steps to take to bolster our strength of arms. As for Excalibur, my intention is to spread the hope of the legendary ship’s return to every corner of Avalon. To stoke rebellion among the many planets of the empire, and add new allies both great and small to our cause. Just like I helped liberate Avalyeth and Falias, other planets will follow us. The rebellion will grow.”
Nodding, Elder Brusque sat down. His acceptance of the answer had a calming effect on the rest of the council, and they turned their thoughts inward rather than continuing to bombard him with concerns.
“Sir Dragon,” Ossara said. “Is there anything else you want to add for the Council?”
“No, High Elder,” he replied. “I’ve said everything I needed to say. I’m finished.”
“Then please, retake your seat.”
Thomas nodded and complied, relaxing for the first time since they’d walked into the Council Hollow.
“Well done, as usual,” Kaelithan remarked from beside him.
“Do you think I convinced them?” Thomas asked.
“Some, but not all.”
“Will it be enough?”
“That remains to be seen, I’m afraid.”
“As is our custom, we will now vote on our response to this crisis," Ossara announced once she regained the floor. "The question before us is simple: Do we maintain our independence and accelerate our preparations for war, or do we seek accommodation with the Empire through voluntary submission?"
The voting process was conducted with the same procedure Thomas had witnessed before. Each council member cast a secret vote, and then they were tallied, the results handed to Ossara. Thomas tensed as she raised her hand to announce it.
“The results are as follows,” she said. “Sixty-two members voted in favor of maintaining independence. Thirty-six voted against. Two abstained.”
“How can anyone abstain on something so important,” Thomas heard Kaelithan mutter under his breath as fresh murmurs swept across the chamber.
One of the obvious dissenters rose to her feet. "You've doomed us all!” she shouted. “In six months, Morgana will come with fire and sword, and everything we've built will be reduced to ash because we were too proud to accept the reality of our situation."
"The Council has spoken," Ossara replied. "Avalyeth will maintain its independence and prepare for the challenges ahead. We will not seek accommodation with the Empire, but neither will we ignore the magnitude of the threat we face."
Shaking her head, her countenance bitter, the councilwoman sat. Another council member rose. “And what of the planned celebration? Should we cancel those plans?"
Ossara considered the question carefully, her expression showing the balance between practical necessity and emotional need. "No," she decided. "Our people have endured too much darkness and need the healing that comes with shared joy. The celebration will proceed, providing closure for our recent trials and inspiration for the challenges ahead."
She turned back to Thomas. "After the ceremonies, we’ll accelerate every aspect of our preparation. But first, we give our people the chance to remember what we're fighting to preserve."
Thomas nodded approvingly, recognizing the wisdom in her decision. There was just one thing. “High Elder, I agree with the need for a celebration. Unfortunately, my crew and I won’t be able to attend. A week is too long for us to remain static given the change in circumstances.”
“I understand,” Ossara replied. “Perhaps you can record a message for the people of Avalyeth? I know it would mean a lot to them to hear from you.”
“Of course,” Thomas agreed.
“In that case, I’m sure you’re eager to finish your business on Avalyeth and start your new quest. Don’t let the Council delay you any further.”
“Thank you, High Elder.” Thomas and the rest of his crew stood. He turned to face the Council. “Thank you all. Even those of you who don’t agree with this course of action. I swear to you that I’ll do everything in my power to keep Avalon free from Draconite tyranny.”
The Council rose as one, showing solidarity now that the votes had been counted. They pounded their tables once more, offering Thomas and the others respect and gratitude on their departure.
Thomas finally let himself relax a little once they cleared the chamber. “Kael, shall we go visit your parents?”
Kaelithan smiled. “Eager to see Iona, then?” he asked.
“I admit, I wouldn’t mind that. But I also want you to have a chance to see your family, and Gareth to see his. And for Halvy to reunite with Thyreon. Once we leave, we may not be back here for some time.”
“Do you really think we can do it, Captain?” Bilbic asked. “Liberate enough planets to stand against Morgana?”
Thomas nodded, Arthur’s essence burning inside of him. “I do. We have to.”
CHAPTER 12
Before they could exit the Council Hollow, Krythis stepped forward from where he and his people had been standing against the wall. His robes rustled softly as he moved to intercept Thomas, his elegant features carrying an expression of respectful urgency. "Sir Dragon," he said, his voice pitched low to avoid drawing attention. "If I might have a word before we depart?"
Thomas paused, turning to face the engineer while his crew waited for him nearby. "Of course. What's on your mind?"
"Given the changed circumstances you've outlined, we believe it would be prudent for us to return to Falias immediately. Lady Aelan needs to be informed of Queen Morgana's decision, and our people will need time to prepare our defenses for what's coming."
Thomas nodded. "That makes perfect sense.” The Sidhe had their own world to protect, their own people to rally for the coming storm. "We can drop you off once we depart Avalyeth.”
Relief flickered across Krythis' features. "We appreciate your understanding. The council discussions here have been illuminating, but Falias will need every advantage we can provide if we're to successfully weather the next six months.”
“Does that mean I can count on the Sidhe’s continuing support?”
“You were there, Sir Dragon,” Krythis replied. “You saw firsthand how the Draconite treated us. They nearly executed Lady Aelan. The Druids are kind and good, but they tend to be timid in the face of danger. The Sidhe aren’t so inclined.”
Thomas couldn’t argue with the Sidhe’s observation. There was a reason Trilthan had helped Morgana in the first place. A change of leadership wouldn’t just wipe away those tendencies overnight. “Even so, they stood courageously against the attack on their home.”
“They did,” Krythis agreed. “I meant no disrespect. Merely observation.”
“I understand. And I’m glad to have the backing of Falias and Lady Aelan.”
“Thank you, Sir Dragon.”
“Lestain!” Gareth called out, stepping up beside Thomas.
Thomas looked up to see Gareth’s cousin threading his way into the hollow and through the leaving throng. The man’s face lit up with joy as he walked up and threw his arms around Gareth, hugging him fiercely.
"I just heard you were home." Pulling back, he studied his cousin's face. “It’s good to see you safe, cousin. And you, Thomas.” He turned, extending his hand to Thomas. "Once again, you've accomplished the impossible. The entire resistance owes you a debt that can never be repaid."
