Chapter Four:

A Plan

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"I'm sorry, Harriet, but you can't go," Clara said as she absentmindedly turned the pages on her newest book on raising children.

"What do you mean I can't go?" Harriet asked her face covered in a scowl as she took in the relaxed form of her sister on one of the yellow settees in the East Tower sitting room. "I have been waiting to have my chance at being a knight since I was ten! I've earned this! I've worked hard for over seven years, and now that I have the chance you are saying I can't go?"

"Harriet, if it was anything else you know I would be more than happy to let you go, but this isn't a tea party you are asking to go to. You are asking for permission to enlist as a soldier. You are not even old enough to enlist."

"Oh so it has nothing to do with the fact that I'm not a male then?" Harriet said, sarcasm covering each word thoroughly. Clara let out an audible sigh while Harriet kept her arms crossed tightly over her chest.

What was one year extra of age, of time? She had been training to be a knight since she was thirteen years old. She had more training than probably over a half of the soldiers already enlisted, and yet, all the same, because she was twenty and a female she wasn't allowed to fight for her country.

"Harriet, I will admit that is part of the problem, but not because Frederick and I think that you, as a young woman, are not good enough. It has more to do with the fact that as the lone female in the military you would need special quarters, special armor, clothing, weapons, even a different bathing station. Not to mention, how would we explain to everyone why it is that the only woman allowed to participate in the war just happens to be the sister-in-law to the king?"

"That sounds like a load of sh-"

"Harriet, please!" Clara cut in before Harriet could swear, using one of the words that she had learned from being around the other knights.

"Come on! It has everything to with the fact that you are worried of what the other members of court will say! Not to mention, the fact you are needlessly worried! I'll be fine!"

"Oh really? Are you all-knowing now?" Clara said, her grey eyes zeroing in on Harriet's matching pair. "Can you promise me, right this instant, that you won't get hurt? You're not exactly going to be stitching embroidery and picking daisies. You will be killing other people, other human beings. Are you ready for that?"

The room plunged into silence and as a cloud passed over the sun outside, the sitting room they were in was darkened to reflect the mood and tension. Harriet had no answer to that. She had absolutely nothing to say, because right at that moment, she knew as soon as the words left Clara's mouth that she wasn't ready to kill another person. However, that wasn't to say she wanted to give up on her crusade to join the war effort.

"No, I'm not," Harriet answered, her voice stiff, before turning on her heel and slamming the door of the sitting room with as much as strength as she could.

Her jaw clenched and unclenched periodically as she weaved around numerous servants, her eyes narrowed as her head spun with the after-effects of her discussion with her sister.

She might not be ready to be end someone's life, but a part of her told her that maybe she would get used to it. Maybe she would get used to the idea of taking another's life, but as she remembered how just the night before she had witnessed the final moments of Daniel Martin, the messenger with a wife and two children, she wondered if she could ever become so cold-hearted as to not care.

Every man would have someone waiting for them at home. A best-friend, a mother, a sister, a wife, a son, every man, highborn or peasant, would have someone hoping for their return. She wanted to be a knight, to protect her country, her home, but was she brave enough to kill another person to allow for her people to live?

Harriet decided she didn't want to answer her own question, instead running down the stairs two at a time towards the practice grounds. It was these kinds of emotional problems that went best with sword practice. The deepest anger when channeled correctly could make for the best driving force.

She was about to reach the door to the armory when said door swung open, revealing the tall, pale, and curly-haired form of Mark. Skidding to a stop, Harriet braced herself as she tumbled into him, but unlike when they were kids, Mark was more than capable of keeping them both standing.

"Woah there princess, got somewhere to go?" Mark said, his hands on her upper arms as he stopped her from falling over. She sent him a fierce glare.

"I'm not a princess," she spat, her anger leaking into her words. Mark's ginger colored eyebrows went up towards his hairline at the way she spoke her words.

"I know that, but you know what the real issue is, princess? That tone." His own grey eyes eyed her, obviously taking notice of her clenched fists and stiffened muscles. "Why don't we go talk about it, hmm?"

"I don't want to."

"I can tell, but we both know that the longer you let it stew the worse you'll feel about whatever has you peeved," Mark replied, not phased by her attempts to get away, instead keeping her arm in his hand and dragging her off towards the gates leading to the village.

Harriet was tempted to complain, but she decided not to. There was no point really. Mark was like her in that way. He wasn't one to give up easily on something he had set his mind to.

"So Princess, what's wrong? Did you have another argument with Clara?" Mark asked, hitting the nail on the head, as usual. He was looking over at Harriet with a concerned look on his face, his eyes watching her closely, narrowing when she didn't automatically answer.

"I did, but it wasn't our normal argument. It was about whether or not I would allowed to fight as a knight in the war. I overheard a war council meeting last night," Harriet explained, leaving out the part about the messenger. Part of her didn't want to talk about him. "Every able bodied man aged twenty to forty-five is supposed to join the war effort. I wanted to go but Clara's told me I can't. Let's just say she was very persuasive," Harriet finished almost growling.

However, when she looked over at her best friend, she was surprised to see that he had paled to the color of milk and his eyes were widened in what Harriet thought was either shock or worry.

"Every man from the age of twenty-one?" Mark's voice cracked around the word twenty-one, causing Harriet to become even more suspicious. What was wrong?

"Yes? Why do you look so worried?" Mark finally turned to look her in the eye, and Harriet stopped in her tracks. If the haunted look in his widened eyes was any indication, he was scared, and Harriet couldn't help but frown at him in a combination of confusion and concern.

"Harriet, being a knight has always been your dream, so I don't expect you to understand, but I'm twenty-two. I have to go to war. I have to leave my mother, my little sister, and my younger brother behind. I have to look at them and know that I might never see them again once I leave for the front."

Harriet's mouth opened to protest that she did know, that she did understand, but she was silenced by Mark's pointed look that he sent her way.

"War is not something that most people want, Harriet. It might be a place for bravery, courage, and glory, but that only comes after the war is won. When the war is actually taking place, none of that is guaranteed. All that is guaranteed is death, may it be that of the men you are facing or your own."

Mark fell silent and Harriet didn't protest at his words. She knew he was right. There were no certainties in war. Even the strongest soldier could die, even the most skilled fighter could get hurt. Once she found a way to join the effort, that was definitely something she'd have to think about more in depth.

"If I die, there will be no source of revenue for my family," Mark said, speaking up again and beginning to lead Harriet to walk again. "If I leave and don't return, my mother, who isn't nearly as well as she used to be, will be left alone to take care of two children. That on top of grieving; I'm not sure she would be able to handle it."

Harriet thought over his words carefully, trying her best to come up with a possible idea to fix Mark's problem. While she couldn't deny she wanted to have a chance to fight in the war, she was more than aware of what Mark's leaving would mean for his family. The only way he would've been able to stay home would be if he had a brother who also happened to be twenty-one or older who was willing to go, but Mark's little brother was twelve.

Harriet almost fell over when her thoughts finally added up. It would fix everything! Even her problem of not being allowed to go! Mark needed to have someone take his place, someone who was a male and over the age of twenty-one.

"I could take your place!" Harriet exclaimed, startling Mark from his silence.

"What? No! That couldn't work! King Leopold and King Frederick know you, they'd recognize you on sight," Mark responded, his arms crossed over his chest. "Plus, they would never allow a girl to take my place."

"But I wouldn't be going as a girl! I would go as your twenty-one-year-old brother."

"I don't have a twenty-one-year-old brother," Mark stated blatantly while Harriet rolled her eyes at his reaction.

"They don't know that. Who's to say that you don't have a twenty-one-year-old brother who is considerably smaller than you? A brother who conveniently looks a lot like you did when you were younger and wants to participate in the war?" Harriet suggested, watching with a small smile as Mark hesitantly nodded.

"They might still recognize you though. I mean, if you just so happen to go missing around the same time a man by a different name who looks like the two of us shows up-"

"I could say that I'm staying with you!"

"I don't think I follow what you are saying. What does that have to do with them not recognizing you?"

"Listen, I haven't really told anyone about your family. You, sure, but not your family. What if due to the fact that your brother will be leaving to fight you are losing help around the house? I know that Clara would let me stay with you if it was to help you. Nevermind if I'm actually there. All you'd have to do is insist that every time I am called or looked for that I am off running an errand for you. No one would ever know."

"I'm still not sure it will work, there are so many different things that could go wrong," Mark said, his lips pressed together and his brows drawn downwards.

"It will work. We'll just have to work on the plan more. Regardless of if it doesn't work well, we both end up fixing our problems. You get to stay home and insure that your family never goes without you and I-"

"And you get to possibly die in my place?" Mark responded sharply, and Harriet let out a loud sigh, her head tilting up towards the sunny canopy of the forest.

"We don't know if that will even happen."

"You're right we don't know if you will get hurt or if you will die, but all the same, what kind of friend would I be to let my best friend go off to war to die in my place?"

"A great friend, because you'd know this was my lifelong dream that I will never get to accomplish unless you help me. This is my only chance, Mark. Won't you help me?" Mark's head dropped to his chest, but once he looked back up, Harriet knew that he would help.

"Fine, I'll help you, but we need to come up with a better plan. Why don't we head to my house first? I know for a fact that you don't have any clothes fit for the part of a peasant boy," Mark suggested, starting to lead them both in the direction of his home.

Harriet felt like skipping, or even shouting her victory from the rooftops, but she knew she shouldn't. Mark and Clara weren't wrong. War was dangerous and she was taking a huge risk by going, but she couldn't just not go. She couldn't not try when her lifelong dream was so close to coming true, even if it meant she might lose her life or get hurt. There was nothing she would not do to try and accomplish her goal.

Once they had both turned a bend on the forest path, Harriet and Mark could see the roof of Mark's home through the trees. It was a four roomed house with barely enough room for four people, let alone the five that they would be claiming lived there, but Harriet knew that Mark loved it more than anywhere else in the world.

"C'mon, I'm sure we can find something," Mark said, opening the door and letting them both in. As soon as they had entered the house, Harriet was almost bowled over by Mark's nine-year-old sister, Emily, and as she hugged her back Harriet made sure to smile over the girl's head at Mark's mother, Rose.

"Harriet! How are you, dear?" Rose said, smiling at Harriet from where she stood in the small kitchen.

"I'm great, how are you, Rose?" Harriet asked, taking in the older woman's appearance.

"I'm just wonderful, what brings you here this morning?" Rose asked, but Harriet didn't answer right away, instead letting Mark do the talking. She now understood what Mark meant by saying Rose wasn't doing well. Rose looked worn and frail, as if the smallest breeze would knock her over, but as Harriet could see from the dishcloth and plate in her slender hands, she was still doing housework. Harriet was suddenly very glad that she had convinced Mark that she should take his place.

"Oh we're just grabbing a pair of spare clothes for one of the new lads over at the stables. He's starting to grow out of his own and I figured one of my old ones would work," Mark said, answering his mother's question. Harriet didn't say anything, instead allowing herself to be dragged into the room Mark shared with his younger brother, making sure to pat Emily on the head as they passed.

Mark went over to the ramshackle dresser immediately, throwing open one of the drawers and fishing around in it with extreme focus. Harriet let her attention wander, knowing full well what her eyes would find.

She had been in Mark's home over a thousand times before, and she was honestly quite at home there. Mark was like a brother to her, the best friend she could ever ask for, and his family, was like a second family to her. Rose was a great person to talk to, Emily was as sweet as could be although she was incredibly quiet, and Mark's little brother, Benjamin, was a rascal with a penchant for getting into the most ridiculous spots of trouble.

Harriet was glad that she would sparing them grief by going in Mark's place, but she also knew that if she never returned, Rose would never forgive her, but she knew it was in everyone's best interest for her to go in Mark's place.

"Come here, I think this might work," Mark said, and Harriet looked over to see he was holding a pair of trousers and a loose shirt that had at least two areas that were patched up with a different kind of fabric. Harriet stepped closer, allowing Mark to hold up the clothes to see if they would fit her.

Harriet had a feeling the shirt would be a little big, but the trousers looked like they would fit her. Worse comes to worst, she could always attempt to use her terrible sewing skills to fix them up a little.

"I'm sure they'll fit," Harriet said, taking the clothes from Mark. She glanced up to see that Mark was staring down at her, his lips pursed and eyebrows once again drawn together. "What?"

"No offense, Harriet, but dressing up in boy's clothing is kind of something you do everyday, and cutting your hair short isn't going to make you look different enough for people to think you are definitely a boy, at least no one who knows you well."

Harriet looked down at herself, before turning to look in the cracked and stained mirror that hung just through the open door of Mark's room. She inspected everything in fine detail, running her hands over her hair as she did her best to think of a way that would disguise her better.

"I think I might have a pretty good idea of what I can do. I'll still look really close to what I look like now, but if I'm supposed to be your brother, I will be expected to look and act like you."

"Are you sure it will work?" Mark asked, and Harriet returned his look through the mirror.

"No, but I'm willing to try."

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So what do you think Harriet will do other than cut her hair and wear boy's clothes? Do you think she will be recognized by Frederick and Leopold? Do you think Harriet is right to continue to pursue her dream of being knight? Tell me your thoughts in the comments!

Don't forget to vote if you liked the chapter, and I'll see you all next Friday!