Honor and Blood - Part I.

The plan of the gods

When Vanya was young, her father attended meetings with the council every week. Every seven days, he spent three hours locked inside the throne room, talking to wise men. She remembers the day he allowed her and Silas to attend too. She was so excited to see all these important men made big decisions.

"King Osmond of Slegia, son of King Eadwine the Brave, second of his name. His wife, Queen Siflæd, Princess of Wrosan. Their firstborn Prince Silas and his sister Princess Vanya." One of the councilmen announced their arrival at the meeting with foreign royals.

The room was filled with men, old or young, all looking serious. Her father sat down on his throne with their mother next to him and her and Silas sitting on little chairs on her left. Her father told her it was a crucial meeting, and it would be better if they were all there. Even if they just sat there and smiled at some people.

"My dear lords, thank you for coming. I called you all here to talk to you about the threat that has plagued England for some time now." King Osmond said in his grave, commanding voice that sounded so different as to when he spoke to Vanya. It wasn't a king's voice that showed affection. It was cold and to the point.

"And what might that threat be, my king?" The lord who asked the question was old and bald. Next to him sat a younger boy, maybe fourteen.

Osmond scoffed and glared at the stupid man. Of course, he knew what he was talking about. "The Northmen–"

"The Northmen are no threat. Ragnar Lothbrok was defeated and hid somewhere, nursing his pride. He has for three years now." Another visitor cut off Osmond, waving his hand around like it was no big deal.

Osmond leaned forward in his seat and stared at the men before him with a cold gaze. "Ragnar Lothbrok may be hiding. But his heirs aren't. What of his son and his wife? What of his other sons? They aren't hiding. They are biding their time, and we must be prepared when they attack. We can't ignore the threat that grows stronger with time. When his sons are grown, they might invade England in their father's name. What of the settlement in Wessex? The slaughtered Vikings. The Northmen are loyal; they will try to avenge their own. I can feel it. And we must be ready; we must heighten our defenses, ready our soldiers."

The room grew so silent you could barely hear the breathing of the twenty men, one woman, and two children. Vanya watched the quiet royals thinking the words over. They held no fear anymore; ever since the Vikings stopped raiding with Ragnar, they felt safe. They got comfortable.

"We should attack them!" Cried out the fourteen-year-old boy at the table. Everybody looked at him, some shaking their heads, others agreeing. They were men of honor, stupid men, but men of honor no less. They thought the war was the answer to everything, even if it is a lost war.

"Why can't we make peace?" Vanya asked, looking up at her father from her chair. The room got quiet again. Some men sneered in disgust at the child's simple words. Siflæd rolled her eyes in shame while Silas glared at her as if his gaze could set his sister on fire. The King looked at her with a blank face instead.

"Tell me, Vanya... How should we do that?" Osmond asked her, humoring his youngest child despite the group of councilmen before him.

Vanya bit her lower lip and twiddled with her fingers nervously. "We could give them something and ask them to leave us alone." She suggested hoping her father would like the answer. The wet nurse always told her that if she wanted something, she should ask politely. So it could work with these strangers too.