Illyon took a deep breath before he knocked softly on the door to the king's solar.
A voice came from behind the door, "Enter."
Illyon pushed the door open, bowing slightly as he entered. The king was sitting at the far end of the room at the heavy oak table, facing the door. He glanced up as Illyon entered, then turned his attention back onto the parchments spread out over the table without a word. Illyon stood silently by the door, until the king finally pushed the weights off, and let the parchment roll up back into place.
When he looked up again, he wasn't looking at Illyon, but rather at Sephys kneeling behind him. Illyon worried his lip, his fingers curling into a fist. Had it been the wrong idea to bring Sephys along? He hadn't been thinking of what Sephys's presence would be like when discussing a battle—against Sephys's people, no less. But it was too late to send him away.
"I'm sorry for the state I come to you in, father." Illyon said, stepping closer to the table, "I was just training in the yard—"
"It does not matter." The king cut him off, "Ser Gaarwain has reported that you have improved."
"Yes, father." Illyon said, standing straighter than before, "I have been practicing every day."
"Do you believe that you are ready to fight in a real battle?" the king asked, fixing Illyon in a cold gaze.
"Yes." Illyon blurted out, unable to keep the grin off his face, "I'm ready."
The king was silent for a moment, before he nodded, "You are almost a man of ten and three." He said, almost to himself, "It would not be proper to keep you from your maiden battle much longer."
Illyon held his breath, his stomach churning. This was what he had been training for—to be allowed to march alongside the soldiers to fight real men. To fight to protect his father's realm against the Miiryn, not just straw dummies with no sin.
"Very well." his father finally said, "You'll sit at the next war council with Verim."
"When will this battle take place?" Illyon said, barely able to contain his excitement.
"In a month's time, if all goes well." He replied, "Ask more at the council. You have my leave to go."
"Thank you, father." Illyon let the smile spread across his face as he turned, and nodded to Sephys to stand.
The king called after him as he was about to close the door, "Illyon."
"Yes, father?"
His stare was fixed on Sephys behind him again, "Be mindful of who you trust."
The smile faded from Illyon's face, "As you say, father." He bent his head in a quick bow before closing the door. The king's warning had dampened his enthusiasm slightly, but it was hardly enough to ruin his mood.
Verim was waiting for him in front of his room, his head tilted slightly. He laughed as Illyon came into view, "I see it went well with father."
"Very." Illyon said, "I told you that I'll be alongside you in the next battle."
"Not the next battle, for sure." Verim said, "It's your first battle. Do you remember mine?"
"You were younger than me." Illyon said, scowling, "Other than that..."
"Not the battle, but what happened before."
Illyon frowned, blinking at Verim. There hadn't been much else, had there? He remembered being scolded by his mother for being so sullen when Verim rode out—he had wanted to go as well.
Verim sighed, shaking his head, "You have a truly atrocious memory." He said, "Do you remember the tourney and the feast held before I left? That alone had taken months to plan."
"Oh," Illyon said, eyes widening, "I had forgotten about the feast. I just wanted to fight..."
"That much is obvious."
"I would rather have the feast after the battle." Illyon said, crossing his arms, "There's nothing to celebrate about before I do anything."
"It's tradition." Verim said, shrugging, "And also..."
Illyon waited for him to continue.
"Do not be so disappointed if father places you along the back defenses, or even on the walls." Verim said, and raised his hand to silence Illyon before he could ask why, "It is your first battle, and it's only a formality. I was manning the wall myself in my first battle. War is nothing like training, Illyon. Father will surely only prevent you from fighting if you argue against him on this."
Illyon closed his mouth, and then bit out, "I understand."
He had wanted to be where the fighting was thickest. The court singer was always telling stories of brave princes and men who brought down entire legions with a single sword. Verim had always told him that the stories were false, and if they were true, they were grossly exaggerated. But he had always wanted to be like one of the heroes in the stories, people trembling and reveling at his name alone.
He supposed he should be glad that his father was letting him on the battlefield at all.
Verim gave him an apologetic smile and said, "Ser Gaarwain will be sure to tell you when the council will be held again. Don't be so sullen..."
"It's for the best." Illyon finished, "I know. I won't say anything against father's decisions."
Verim grinned, and pushed past him to descend the stairs.
"I would rather be fighting beyond the wall, though." Illyon muttered, when he knew Verim was out of earshot.
