The nobles filed in, all in smart and kempt military uniforms decorated with rows of gleaming medals. Ari knew that they had never been near a battlefield in their lives, using their rank to spend their time in conscription well behind the front lines. His mother refused to let him see the front, and active service— even in a tent closer to the frozen north than actual combat— was out of the question. Of his mother's many, many decisions regarding his life, that was one of the few he would not fight. Even thinking of causing someone's death directly, or being around the dead and dying, was too much for him.

As the nobles took their seats, Ari noticed the way they glanced between him and his mother, taking in his position in her chair and how she sat beside him. What they could not see, and what he could, was how his mother's hands were balled into fists in her lap. He tried instead to watch his father out of the corner of his eye, but his father's gaze was focused elsewhere... on his mother, who was regarding the man with, as Ari saw it, a barely-veiled warning. His father gave the slightest dip of his head in return.

Like Ari had expected, his mother spoke first.

"Fältmarskalk Svennssen, I heard that your men recently took Javoršovka." She smiled at the older man. "In fact, I received the message this morning."

Ari hadn't known that there was a campaign near Javoršovka, a town not far from one of Moravsko's major port cities, but Svennssen nodded and said, "It seems that the local priest burned both the church and himself before the townsfolk surrendered, but beyond that, most buildings are intact."

His mother glanced over at him, likely to gauge his reaction, but he was determined to give her nothing. Even if he had to calm himself using his father's techniques, he wouldn't prove his mother right about his capability to stomach the war reports— if his father could cope at this age, then so could he.

"...best that way," Preses Perssen was saying, frail hand moving absently to the three interlocked triangles on a chain of gold around his neck. Of everyone at the table, he was the only one to wear robes, although his were the same dark blue as the military uniforms. "The priest would only serve to wind the town into a frenzy."

"And now he's a martyr," Ari's father interjected, voice cool. "The man who would rather die than surrender himself to heretics." Addressing Svennssen, he added, "I hope, Fältmarskalk, that your soldiers are prepared for the retaliation they will undoubtedly face."

"They are. Already they have separated the men from the women and children, and told both groups that the loss of one soldier's life will end in five of theirs shot."

Ari searched for any emotion on his father's face at that information, any flicker behind his eyes or tightening of his jaw. There was nothing, but the question was whether his father was simply all too good at hiding it, or if he truly did not care about the plight of the people in the country he had once called home. Regardless of which side of the war he was on, Ari hoped that it was the former.

Svennssen's left hand splayed out over the table. "In slightly less pleasant news, Akkarlund has been raided by..."

"A Voják Rovnováhy," his father supplied. "Kazimir Kozár, judging by the soldiers' descriptions."

"Yes. And after this... Kozár... left, his soldiers took some of the townsfolk with them. As usual, those who were young and relatively healthy."

It seemed as if he were about to say more, but a look from Ari's mother kept him silent. Ari bit back his frustration— why was she worried about him not being able to manage if she intended to censor the entire meeting anyway?

Now addressing the whole council, she said, "Perhaps it's time we send our own message. Would they be as inclined to take our people if we did the same in return?"

She lectures me for using her own threat against her, but now she wants to do this? He was sorely tempted to go against her 'no speaking' stipulation, but he stayed quiet. The day would come when this council was his, and then he could make the decisions he wanted.

As it turned out, however, he didn't have to say a word to his mother. His father leaned back in his seat and said, "With all due respect, my queen, I must advise against that. Some towns are willing to surrender, but if they hear so much as a rumor that soldiers will take away their wives, husbands, and children, then they will never stop fighting. You'd also provide more reason for enlistment. Many of their people are unwilling to fight, until you give them a cause."

His mother glanced around the room, but no one contradicted his father. She sighed. "Very well. Then what is to be our next move?"

Ålderman Eskilssen, a narrow-faced man with long, bony fingers, looked around the table and tilted his head. "Straleč is the obvious choice. It's only a short march away from Javoršovka, and if we can take one of their port cities..."

"Obvious enough where any military commander will prepare for an attack," said Ari's father. "Once again, I'd like to at least entertain the idea of striking against Dukovník. It's not much further from Javoršovka than Straleč is, it's unexpected, and there is a chance here to demoralize Moravsko as a whole."

"It's unexpected because it borders on suicidal," said one of the other Åldermannen. "I side with Ålderman Eskilssen. Straleč is the better target."

"But to shake faith... is to shake the very heart of the people." Preses Perssen nodded to himself, hand still against his talisman. "I agree with Rådgiver Jelen."

The remaining nobles debated among themselves, a few new ideas brought up only to be dismissed, and eventually they settled into one of the two choices. Some continued to argue with one another, but Ari noticed that more than one had gone silent— expectant. And a few were looking at him. Oh, he realized, heart starting to beat a little quicker. They know that Mamma has the power, but only for so long.

And now he understood something else: by coming here today, he had made himself a part of this for certain, when before he had been involved in name only. By coming here today, he had signified that he was prepared for his role in court life, and there would be peace for him no longer. He was a piece on the chessboard, and the nobles would make more effort to speak to him, sway him...

He swallowed hard and kept his eyes on the table in front of him, picking out patterns in marble strata. If the decision was his... well, as his father had said, Straleč would be fortified. He didn't know much about Moravsko's military operations, but it would only be logical that they would defend an important coastal city. Besides, many of Dukovník's holy warriors were dead, according to his father. If they sent enough soldiers to deal with the garrison there, then a dozen holy warriors probably wouldn't make much of a difference.

Before he could say anything, his mother cleared her throat. "As smart as my son is," she said, the slightest edge hidden beneath her words, "he is not yet old enough to lead a war. The soldiers will march on Straleč."

She smiled at his father, but Ari barely noticed it. The nobles had looked at him; they had to know that even if he didn't have all of the information, he was fully capable of making a decision, or asking for more details if he needed to. If he had answered with Dukovník before his mother had said anything, would the nobles have risked angering their queen, or their king? And if he chose to speak out now, to contradict her or really to let himself be heard at all, what could his mother actually do?

She could never bring herself to do anything to you. His father's words, and he'd dismissed them initially, but if she couldn't punish him for sitting in on this meeting, then she likely couldn't punish him for speaking. Well, he thought, there's only one way to find out.

"As you'd have it," said his father. "Nonetheless, we should prevent their soldiers from leading attacks, if only for a little while. I'd recommend sabotaging their rail lines."

"Isn't that also how they receive food and medicine?"

All eyes, including his mother's, were focused once more on him. He couldn't help the chill that crept along his skin at the sight of his mother's face. If she had been angry before, it was nothing in comparison to the quiet storm gathering behind her emotionless mask; much like a real storm, it felt to him like the temperature in the room dropped until his hands began to tremble slightly.

She had said that he was smart, but he knew then and there that what he had just done was not a smart idea.

His father, perhaps sensing that, chose that moment to bring the attention back to himself. "Yes, my king, it is. It is also how they send out soldiers."

If he had noticed the way Ari's mother sat at the edge of her seat, preparing to pounce, there was no indication of it. Yet Ari was sure that he knew the ramifications of his action, knew what he could lose if Ari's mother had her mind set to it, and so Ari was grateful because he'd taken that risk. However, his mother's attention wouldn't remain on his father for long, and it was best to escape the room before it was just him and his mother again. This time, there would be no impending meeting to keep her from doing anything drastic.

He tapped on the table and said, "If you'll excuse me, I am a little late for today's lessons."

Before anyone could react, he stood, pushed in his chair, and left, shutting the doors behind him. As he headed toward the library, his guards, who had been waiting outside the room, followed at a loose distance. Slowly, he massaged the feeling back into his hands. There would be a reckoning, undoubtedly, but he hoped that his mother's temper would cool over the time it took to find him.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Herr Hallessen was waiting at the entrance to the library, a thick tome open in his hands. At the sound of Ari's footsteps, he looked up and closed the book. Together, they walked in, and sat at the small table near the historical records as was the usual.

After a moment's pause, Herr Hallessen said, "You're late."

"I'm sorry. I was at a council meeting."

He shook his head. "A meeting? Ari, you know that the queen does not approve of eavesdropping, nor do I approve of spending time meant for lessons on other activities."

"I wasn't eavesdropping!" Ari protested. "I was actually there."

"And the queen allowed that?"

"Yes!" He shifted uncomfortably as Herr Hallessen continued to stare at him, one eyebrow raised. "It's... possible that she may not have wanted me there, but..."

"But what?"

"I... She said that she would have my guards drag me away if I didn't leave the room, and I may have told her that I would cause a— a commotion and let the nobles know we were arguing if she tried..."

"So you forced her hand. Ari, that was deliberately manipulative. You know quite well that she thinks you are not ready, but you made her go against her instincts as both a regent and a mother for the sake of a war report."

His mouth dropped a little. "But— but I have to learn." He hadn't exactly expected Herr Hallessen to approve; after all, as much as Ari considered him a friend, he was still a tutor appointed and ultimately controlled by his mother. But this...

"Yes, it seems so," said Herr Hallessen. He stood and selected a different book from one of the nearby shelves. "Today's lesson will be on ethics. And this time, you will not fall asleep."

Ari sighed and rested his chin on the table. It was going to be one of the longest lessons he'd ever endured. 

You know it's been a long week... okay, month... when you misspell 'of' four times before finally getting it right.

Fältmarskalk (faehlt-mahr-SCHALL): older title, means Field Marshal, and was used for the most senior officer of the Swedish military.

Preses (PREH-sez): title for the leader of Norway's Bishops' Conference; this leader is considered 'first, among equals'.

Ålderman (pretty much like saying 'older man'): it's a cognate. We have 'alderman'. However, in this case, I'm using it more like the Witanagemot in Anglo-Saxon England, where they were high-ranking royal officials and also advisors. Åldermannen is just plural. 

So: I do have the next chapter planned out. Not written yet, but I'm working on it.