4

"You know very well why," says Kral with a sigh. "You are your father's only heir, and battles of any kind are dangerous. They're places where your immediate future becomes almost impossible to control. The shamans say that once we are committed to such an act, only Svarog, god of battle, knows our fate. Suffice to say, we are not gods. Your father believed that the best way to keep you safe was to exclude you from the fighting altogether."

"I've heard Nattan of the White Fox allows his sons and daughters to ride into battle beside him," you reply. "All of them, sharing in the glory."

"It's true," says Kral, "and he's a fool to do it. Fortunately for him, he's a fool whose reproductive capabilities far outstrip any reason he may have, and his lineage is secured through weight of numbers, if nothing else." He pauses for a moment to compose himself before continuing. "Forgive me. I should not speak ill of our allies. In truth, I would have liked to go to battle myself, but that does not mean that our patrol of these forests is worthless. It is your father's command, and that should be enough."