Aedan paced the outer chambers to his quarters. The long table where he sat with his advisors was empty, its wood shining palely in the candlelight. Today--for the thousandth time--they had discussed the prospect of his marriage and an ensuing war. The marriage, they thought, would be quickly settled upon the arrival of the Lady Hanna Blauvelt. And they were chafing for an end to the conflict with the barbarians. For the moment, of course, the uneasy peace held. There had been few border skirmishes in recent months. But as the weather warmed--for whatever reason--barbarian blood grew hot, and the number of attacks increased, particularly on the Eastern border, where the broad river turned away. When the war began--and it was a question of 'when,' not 'if'--they would, of course, build a number of bridges, manned by archers, in order to get their troops across.

But these were logistical matters. Precisely what he wanted to pose to his general. He had no compunction about beginning the war without an heir, but his advisors insisted: he needed a wife. He couldn't leave everything to his brother, whom most considered (partly thanks to his own intimations) fairly inept. Besides, there was this matter: King Aedan did not think he would die. He had simply never seriously considered the possibility. Call it hubris or pride, but death was not on his agenda.

He wanted to speak to the general about the possibility of mounting an attack sooner rather than later, though they could wait as much as a year. However, in the meantime, they would want to begin conscripting and training. An untrained, civilian army would be decimated by the warlike Baskar. A levy was in order. He sighed, shaking his head, and turned abruptly at the sound of a knock. "Come in!" he called over his shoulder, aware that at this late hour it could be no one but the General.

Laurent had almost forgotten his appointment with the king. He had been going over battle plans for a dozen different scenarios, some much more likely than others. He'd reviewed hundred of reports about the enemies strengths and weaknesses, unfortunately they had much more of the former and less of the latter. While he had been preparing defensive strategies he was more focused on more aggressive plans. The king seemed to realized that he would have the biggest advantage if he struck first although he had no long term strategy for such a maneuver. That was the generals job, so he had been working for days on such a strategy. He was just finishing writing one when his page reminded him about the appointment.

Laurent was never late for anything, especially not a meeting with the king, so he had no intention of starting now. He quickly, although orderly, threw his papers into a satchel and left his tower of the keep to join the king in his chambers. Laurent's liege had been under a significant amount of stress as of late, with the pressure to produce an heir as well as the war with the barbarians looming on the horizon. Not to mention dealing with quarrelsome nobles and his paranoia of his brother.

Laurent had no positive or negative feelings on Prince Fergus, currently the kingdoms only heir. While the king didn't trust him, which was obvious to Laurent and everyone else in the keep much less the country, if the King couldn't produce an heir or was slain by an assassin Laurent would most likely then serve the prince. In such an event the prince would need the general badly, many a noble would like to take the crown away from Fergus and place it on their own head and without the kings army, who's alliance lied with their leader and the current king, not his brother, he would have no prayer of holding the crown, much less staying alive. So despite the kings reservations Fergus and the general were cordial with one another. A lesson perhaps the king himself should learn.

Laurent slowed his rapid pace as he neared the kings quarters, not wanting to seem like he had been late. He made his breathing regular and ran his finger through his hair, trying to look more official than exhausted. So when he knocked on the door he was relaxed and calm, his breathing even. The very picture of military order and discipline. He entered the room quietly as he his liege beckoned him to come in "Your majesty" Laurent said by way of greeting and accompanied it with a short bow, even though the kings back was turned.

"General." The king smiled at Laurent and held out a hand, offering him a seat. There was a carafe of wine on the table, and two goblets. Because there were no servants about (the king had no illusions regarding servants' gossip, and he wanted secret meetings to stay secret), he poured them both three-quarters-full himself, and set one before his general. "How are you? I trust you've been well?"

Pleasantries complete, he paused to draw his own goblet close, cupping his hands around the rounded bulb where it rose above the goblet, but did not yet drink. Despite the late hour, he was still fully dressed in all his finery, which he had come to regard as an uncomfortable second skin, though he knew the General was not one who would respect him more for it. Still, the clothing reminded him of his place, and of what was proper and what was not. Kings had their codes of conduct too; and gulping down wine in front of one's General wasn't the thing to do. However much he might feel he needed it.

"I wanted to discuss the preparations for war. I'm going to be blunt: I think we need a conscription. My father impressed every able-bodied male to win the ground we have now. I've just now been thinking: an army of civilians and pampered tourney knights won't be able to best the barbarians. The issue of my marriage aside--" He made a wry face. "--I'm looking to start this thing next spring. Do you think we can do it?" It was a question he would post so straightforwardly only to General West, but then, the General would hardly gossip, and he trusted him more than he trusted almost anyone else.

Laurent took the king's hand and the offered seat. He also took the wine offered to him with a nod of appreciation, waiting for the king to drink before he did. Although he certainly could use a glass of wine right now, anything that could perk him up for his conversation with the king. He began to think he should have slept last night as he tried to focus on the king and keep and a outwardly attentive appearance. "Of course my lord" he lied "how have you been keeping?". Although he knew the answer to that question already he had to deal with the formalities. It was obvious the kings was under stress, after all if the king wasn't then he was not fit to be king with all the problems facing the nation, whether from his nobles demanding an heir or the increasing hostility of the natives Laurent did not know. Most likely a combination of the two, plus the unknown number of other things Aedan had to worry about.

The General lowered the goblet as the king did the same. He almost took a sip anyway, anything to dull the grinding in his head. He had found wine, or any alcohol for that matter, to be a soothing relief to the toil of daily life. Although there were times when he wished he had the time to truly enjoy the drink he always drank moderately, keeping his wits about him. He looked down once more at the glass, the pool of crimson liquid almost convincing him to take a drink. But, of course, like a good dog Laurent did as his master did and set his glass down, listening to what he had to say.

He nodded at the proper times during the kings talk. He had a few charts and reports on conscription in his satchel, which was now on the floor beside him, that he would leave with the king. Although the king had a tendency to not rely so much on reports and charts as he did with his own feelings and intuition, hopefully that would be beneficial in the long run. Laurent had to agree that the current army, while reasonably battle hardened from border skirmishes, was not the brutal and fearless force of the Baskar. But with more training and experience they could be just as fearless and brace, and perhaps more efficient and orderly. That's where bringing down the Baskar lied, in order. A well organized force would shatter the Baskar horde.

"Truthfully my lord, yes I think we can. If we start conscription soon and begin vigorous training we shall have a very good chance for victory. But these things take time, so the sooner we start the better. While I'm no bureaucrat one has to wonder how our nation will continue to work when every able-bodied man is conscripted. We would have to conscript to close to the spring than I'm comfortable with. The absolute worst thing that could happen would be an army of untrained and undisciplined troops. If we were to implement a program of daily training at each manor but not conscript the serfs until we began the war I believe our forces would be sufficiently trained and our economy wouldn't shatter. Although that would reveal your hand to the nobles, and possibly the Baskar. With troops from a Scalian Baron we would have a better chance as I'm sure you know, or if we only attacked one tribe of natives."

The king sipped at his wine as his general spoke, nodded quietly.

"You're probably right. No need to pull the serfs away from the land yet, and they're generally biddable. Of course, artisans and those we need--physicians, carpenters, bakers, butchers--we'll have to keep some of them. But the price of war, General, is often greater power for women. We let them rules our lands so we may continue to live on them. And while the thought of a country governed by a woman is terrifying, I'm sure farmer's wives can run a farm just as well as their husbands." Of course, he had no experience with farms, but he had lived with an impressive mother while his father was campaigning. He knew women could run things a little better than he might want to admit.

"Why, my own sister manages a fiefdom--with the help of her Steward, of course. We can set up a census for the conscription. Send around messengers to every town, every hamlet. If there's a family with naught but one man we can leave them, but any who have a provider will need to give up the rest of their men. And I know conscription of freeborn is--do you think it would be frowned upon?" He took a sip of wine, looking broodingly into the distance. "My father did it, but that was twenty years ago. Times are changing. Our country's getting fat and lazy." And he feared, though he'd never say so, that it was his own fault for delaying the war.

The General would know what to do. He was more practical-minded than the king. Aedan knew he was given to abstract thought more than focus upon what he considered minutia.

Laurent mimicked the kings actions and took a sip of wine, and then another. The effect was by no means great but he felt the pressure of his job and life ease back ever so slightly. His shoulders still ached, his leg still bothered him, he was still tired, but any relief was welcomed. He sipped as the king talked until he sadly realized he was out of wine. He hadn't noticed any servant when he came in, which was for the best as the only servant that wouldn't gossip was a mute servant and that had it's on complications, so he poured himself another glass as he continued to watch and listen to the king speak.

He agreed that women would have to take a good deal of the responsibility if the men were conscripted to war. All though there was some debate if the fairer sex could manage a country there would still be some men around nothing terribly revolutionary would happen during the fighting. Although if the offensive failed the only people left in Thiasa would be a a handful of men and undefended women, something that would prove to be disastrous when the Baskar made their counter-attack.

"My lord there might be some mumblings of unrest if you were to conscript freemen, but I doubt it would be a cause of rebellion. Besides, it's a precedented decision, as you said your father conscripted freemen. I'm sure if we give them higher military positions than the serfs or perhaps have them carry out all the less hazardous jobs they won't complain. They might desert us though. But if we entice them with loot or land I'm sure they will be complacent. In fact we are about to get a very large amount of land and our nation doesn't have enough people to fill it. You should consider offering land to any foreigner who will fight with us. I'm sure some knights from Scalia are tired of all the fighting there, we could give them estates in the south in exchange for service. Some one is going to have to govern the natives and none of them are literate enough to do it."

"I do have" Laurent said as he reached into his satchel and pulled out a few books "some previous censuses from only a few years ago. Granted they are rather incomplete they might give you an idea of the population, but a new census is in order. Now do we have the funds to pay for the census, the training, the conscription, and the war itself?" The quality of the Thiasian arms and armor is what gave them the largest advantage and if the treasury couldn't pay for it the army would be in dire straights indeed.

King Aedan rubbed his forehead, thinking on this.

"Land--that's a good idea. We gave a claim to every freeman who fought last time, and we can do the same this time. As for the Scalians, it's a tricky problem; they're caught up in their squabbles with the so-called King, and until that mess of a civil war is over... I could entice some of the knights, I'm sure, but the problem lies in our alliances. The baronies whose knights we steal won't look kindly on us for it; and we'll need their cooperation later, if we're to move against King Hadrian."

This all gave him a terrible headache, and then the general came out with census forms. These really didn't mean a great deal to the King, so he waved them away for the moment. He knew, in the abstract, that their mines (for gold and iron) were doing supremely well, though the Natives had a damnable amount of gold, too... of course, that would be, as West had said, only more incentive for the freemen to fight.

"Oh, I know we're economically sound." He poured himself another glass of wine, listening as the thick liquid burbled while he poured. Something about drinking wine out of a golden goblet always made it a little more savorous, even though he knew it really changed nothing, and was even said to create a flatness of taste. Was it a bad thing, to be so entranced with the trappings of his kingdom? It wasn't as though he wouldn't make a soldier like any other. "I'll put our smithies to work on arrow-heads, armour, swords, lance-heads... and such. And I thought we might try to improve upon our cannons. There's a Scalian scientist I've been speaking with... most interesting sort of fellow... he has a mixture of chemicals that on their own produce what's said be to a frightful explosion; far worse than Greek Fire. And then--the conscription. A promise of twenty acres of land should suffice for any freeman, and we could even offer more; but of course we'll need to grant the best of the knights their own fiefdoms, too."

Politics! It was all politics, even the dirty art of war. Politics and planning, and to-morrow or the next day--he would meet his intended bride.

The general had never understood the Kings desire to conquer the lands of King Hadrian. Of course it was natural for a king to want to expand his territory in conquest, in fact that's why Laurent had his job, but Aedan seemed almost on the border of obsessed with his ideas of taking Scalia from it's King. Laurent assumed it had something to do with the kings desire to emulate his father. Despite the fact that the young king had only known his father for a few years before he died seemed to do nothing to deter these feelings. West thought about arguing the point that battle hardened armored knights was exactly what the Thiasian military needed and they could deal with the upset Barons later, but he decided against it. Whether for better or worse the King was known to be awfully stubborn.

West hadn't expected the king to look over the censuses immediately, although he wasn't certain if he would look at them at all. He wondered why he had brought all the information for the king who was never one to focus on individual problems. West would just pass the copies he had onto the kings advisers who would know what to do with the information like he always did. Laurent did hope that eventually the kings would show more interest in the small details that things such as war required. But he doubted the king would change his ways anytime soon and since the nation still prospered his strategy of broad planning rather than micromanagement seemed to be working. But the General always brought his information to the king first anyway, more out of formality than out of reason.

Laurent was glad that the King wasn't planning a war on an empty treasury. He finished off his glass of wine as the king began talking about cannons and Greek fire. His interest was peeked when the kings mentioned a Scalian scientist with a rather explosive discovery. For all their ferocity and bravery the barbarians were in reality a superstitious and easily frightened lot. Laurent was already thinking of ways he could use this new explosive to intimidate the natives, perhaps saying it was the wraith of god. The barbarians religious nature had the potential to be used against them. He wondered to himself about how morale such an action would be, but as long the the end justified the means his conscious would not suffer for it.

"Very well my lord, I shall see to it." He had no need to write any of the kings commands down, his memory would serve just as well as it always had. "On the matter of fiefdoms, how do you plan to govern the southern lands once we conquer them?" The general would have said a tentative 'if' but he thought it best to not irk the king. "We will be absorbing a rather large population into our kingdom with a very different culture than ours. Not to mention language and religion. What are your plans on assimilation and stopping threats of future rebellions?"

Aedan nodded again, broodingly sloshing his wine around in its flagon, watching the red liquid leap higher on first one side, then the other. It reminded him of blood, this Thiasan wine. He'd tasted Scalian wine--a darker purple, lighter, more sour and less sweet. Some of his lords wouldn't drink anything else... until he'd put an embargo in place. That had effectively closed off the Scalian wine importation business. No hard feelings, the Baron Blauvelt assured him; after all, in Scalia Thiasan wine was praised to the skies as far superior to any other. Well, he'd see if the prized vintage of the Barony Blauvelt was any good when he'd seen the daughter. He had a sinking feeling, though. The miniature he'd been sent didn't look promising, and such things always embellished upon reality's plain fruit.

"As for the southern lands--" He looked up. "Missions, my dear General. I rather thought we could follow my dear Cardinal's constant suggestion and attempt to convert the ones who will remain." While he personally thought it would be much easier to decimate the population entirely, that was impossible. Even the plague wouldn't do it, and no army was as strong as the plague. "I thought we might start to civilise them with missions as soon as possible. Recruit some priests who like that sort of thing." He made a vague motion with his hand, then raised it to prop himself up by the chin, his elbow on the table.

He took another sip of wine, closing his eyes to savor it, and to savor the sensation coursing through his veins. Nothing like it, really, except the thrill of the hunt. Or warfare. He had to admit, at least some of his decision to make war sooner rather than later had been prompted by the goad of his boredom with courtly life, and desire for plain adventure. It might've been a better idea to settle on the missions for awhile. Focus on peaceful conversion...

Ah, but no. "But you can't trust the barbarians to know the Lord truly," he murmured. "They'll make adequate serfs, anyway."

Religion used as a weapon was nothing new. Beliefs had been perverted into weapons for thousands of years and such tactics showed no signs of ever stopping. While this might disturb a more holy man, Laurent only saw it as a way to prevent bloodshed. "Wise move" The general commented. The Christian religion was a very practical tool for subjugating peoples. The only problem was getting the message to the people. Not to mention the fact that they already had a fully functioning religion. But after the conquest they would be expected to at least have a respect for the church, if not practice it's teaching. Although Aedan had never struck the general as a religious man, or a morale man for that matter, he could attempt to force Christianity on the natives, which would create a slew of headaches for Laurent. People, barbarians or not, tended to resent being forced into a religion. But a more covert conversion could cause welcomed unrest amongst the Baskar and perhaps turn a few tribes to the Thiasian sides. Of course that would be a best case scenario, more likely would the missionaries would just cause some unrest, which could damage the political alliance of the two Baskar tribes. Exactly what the Thiasian's needed right now.

"We'll have to find some rather brave priests, and honest ones. The last thing we want is them causing more harm than good." Laurent was sure the king had heard stories of missionaries who took on more duties than spreading the good word, which ended up earning them resentment form the peoples they were trying to convert and the church. Hopefully there were still some pious and holy men in the church. At last check Laurent was not sure any were left, if any had been there at all.

The general thought about getting another glass of wine, but he decided that two would be enough. At least as long as he was with the king. When he returned to his quarters he planned on having another glass or so before catching up on his rest. There was much to do, planning a war, much less implementing it, would require a good deal of work and focus from the general and his soldiers.

"Have you told the Lords of your plans? They may not appreciate some of your new ideas. Although I'm sure they'll come around." In truth, the fiefdoms might not come around. The general had grown accustomed to the squabbling power plays of the nobles, but he never truly knew what they had planned next, although it was of little concern to him. If push came to shove Laurent was confident the king's army could deal with any uprising.

"I'll speak to the Cardinal," Aedan murmured, looking off into the distance. In truth he had very little patience for the business of civilizing the barbarians. The best solution he could think of was simply to crush them. Drive them into the sea, and as soon as possible. He would marry this Lady Blauvelt, then, no matter how ugly she was. Get an heir. And start this damnable war.

"As for the Lords--" He cast a sharp look at his General once again. "I have young Lawley firmly in hand now, but I distrust and detest the whelp just as much as I trusted and esteemed his father. The elder was a good man. The younger is a scoundrel and a coward." He made a disgusted face. "And he holds the position closest to the western barbarians. For the moment, we have our hostage, but how long will that last?"

His mind was whirling. He did have an idea about the hostage... but first, the matter of the fiefdoms' loyalty. "I think my Lords will find their appetite for loyalty much whetted by the promise of riches once we sack the barbarian villages. Gold, and land, and slaves; trust me, even I know they'll respond more to that than to their loyalty to an 'untried king.'" His mouth twisted bitterly. He knew what they said about him, what they called him. But he was no Darien Lawley. He was no delinquent son.

"But as to the Western barbarians--I had thought..." He leaned forward, his voice going lower. "If we were able to strike a bargain with their leader... we could offer to return his sister and wife in return for his help in routing the Eastern barbarians. We'd promise peace once they won the Easterners' land for us... but they're barbarians. They don't deserve our promises." Aedan lifted his heavy-lidded gaze once again, his expression impassive, waiting to see what West had to say.

The general had not yet meet the young Lord Lawley but the kings opinion seemed to support the rumors Laurent had heard around the keep. Apparently the young lord was not only a rather cruel womanizer and a obnoxious lout but he also had on several occasions been brash to the king and had made rather insulting remarks to many of the ladies of the court. Laurent was surprised that the king would stand for such behavior from one of his subordinates, but maybe the king was not standing for it. Perhaps the foolish noble would suffer an accident while hunting, or maybe take his own life. Without any notable family he was close to none would be able to claim foul play. Yet he was the only male child of the late Lord Elliott Lawley and therefor the rightful Lord of the Lawley fiefdom, despite his youthful arrogance. Better to have a Lord you despise and control then a well mannered rebel.

General West knew what the king said was true. Despite oaths of loyalty and promises of service some lords fought for one thing and one thing only, themselves. Whether to gain power or to accumulate riches some Lords would only do what they thought would provide some benefit to themselves. But with plenty of plunder to be found in the rich south those Lords who valued salary over service would be some of the bravest fighters in the kings service. Even the freemen and serfs would gain a second wind once they had found a few baubles or trinkets of value from the barbarian corpses, and if all went to plan there would be plenty of barbarian corpses.

The general listened to the king's plans respectfully before commenting. "The barbarians seem to be a practical people, I'm not confident they would make such a risky move for one life. Of course it's worth trying but they might end up betraying you before you can them. Which, if they do it right, would put us in a poor situation. But I agree that splitting the tribes would be our best course of action. From what I understand they have a loose alliance, more about group protection than anything else. If we were to constantly harass one of the two groups we might be able to aggravate them into a rage. If they decide to attack us the other group may not follow them as we've done nothing to provoke them. They will work together for defense but I don't think they'll do the same on the offensive. So after one of the tribes crashes against our forts and is massacred then we could attack that tribe and mop up any resistance. The other tribe would then attack us but at least we'll have a decent advantage."

Aedan folded his hands and frowned.

"I think the Eastern barbarians may do it for us," he mused. "Why plot when the Eastern barbarians have been attacking our borders? I have heard from a town near the sea; they say barbarians have been making raids. Soon they will harm some of our guards, and we may send a message to the Western barbarians, telling them to get the Eastern barbarians under control..." His mind sped ahead. "... we will do nothing, and it will look precisely as though the Eastern barbarians planned it themselves--and it will be true! It's the perfect plan, because we need do nothing. I am confident we could crush the few groups of easterners attacking us, but then what? We'll be at peace again, and that isn't what we want... no... I say we do nothing. Leave it up to the Western barbarians. At the very least all the barbarians will be busy trying to crush those amongst themselves who threaten our borders, while we ready for an attack."

He sat back, smiling triumphantly, and poured himself more wine.

"You said it yourself, General, we aren't ready for war, and we cannot conscribe men before the planting is done... then we will need to let them go again, for the harvest. But next year, provided I marry, and I am sure I will--and barring a famine or a plague..." He rapped one hand against the wood of the table. "We will go to war against a fractured and squabbling enemy."

Aedan was still smiling, twirling his goblet in one hand. "You may go now, General, if you wish... I'll speak with you tomorrow. And thank you, as usual, for your good advice. I will send a messenger to the leader of the Western barbarians regarding his hostage as soon as I can."