Resolved, Ivaar rejoined Mickael and his sister, Gertha.
"Where are we going?" Mickael asked, already sensing from Ivaar's expression that he had made up his mind, that he had a purpose now.
"To find my brother," Ivaar replied without hesitation. "Sister, where is he?"
"He's inspecting the mines north of the castle," Gertha answered.
"Then let's go, Mickael."
Once again escorted by the knights of the Sébastien domain, they made their way north. The ride was swift everyone they passed along the road seemed to know exactly where Ivaar's brother was.
When they reached the mining grounds, Mickael's eyes widened. The operation stretched far beyond what he had imagined, tunnels carved deep into the cliffs, cranes and wagons moving in perfect rhythm, workers shouting orders that echoed through the valley.
"It's enormous… I never expected the mine to be this vast," Mickael said, unable to hide his awe.
Ivaar nodded, a faint pride in his voice. "It's the pride of our family, a symbol of our mastery and endurance."
A deep voice called out from a raised platform. "Ivaar! So, you've come. I assume you've already heard everything."
Ivaar turned toward the source. His brother stood tall among the workers, wearing a light coat marked with the Sebastien crest. His presence carried an undeniable weight not just power, but confidence, command, and an air of natural authority.
"Yes, brother," Ivaar said. "But I don't understand… why are you here, at the mines, in such a situation? Shouldn't you be with the generals, preparing for the coming conflict?"
"Ivaar," his brother began, his voice calm but resolute, "you should know that the mines are one of the most strategic points of our estate. Before and during the coming war, their safety must be guaranteed at all costs. If the mines fall, our people will suffer first and it's our duty to make sure that never happens."
Ragnar's gaze swept over the workers below, his posture steady and commanding. It was clear he had a vision not just for the estate, but for the future of the entire county.
"But you're right," he continued after a pause. "I've spent enough time here. I'll return to the capital and meet with the generals to prepare our defenses. You'll come with me, Ivaar and your friend, I assume, may join us as well."
"Yes, brother," Ivaar said at once, his tone respectful but filled with determination. He had always admired Ragnar not only as his elder brother, but as the man he aspired to become.
"Thank you, sir," Mickael added, bowing his head slightly. Even from this short encounter, he understood why Ivaar respected him so deeply. Ragnar was more than a noble he was a leader born.
Back in the inner castle:
As evening fell, a bell rang through the halls, summoning the key figures of the domain. Within hours, the council had gathered. Two generals, a captain, Ragnar, Ivaar, and Mickael were present around the long oaken table, the air thick with tension and the faint scent of candle wax.
"Mickael, you'll be allowed to stay only for the first part of the meeting," Ragnar said, his tone formal but not unkind. "After that, I'll ask you to excuse yourself."
"I understand," Mickael replied simply. He had no intention of overstepping.
"We'll begin with the southern front," Ragnar announced.
The general of the south stood and saluted. "My lord, our fears are well-founded. The army of Count Despres has been steadily reinforcing its positions along our border. However, there has been no movement in the territories of the Rados. We can assume our diplomacy succeeded they're unlikely to take sides in the coming conflict."
"Good," Ragnar nodded. "Now, the eastern front."
The general of the east cleared his throat. "My lord, we've detected no movement from Aragon's forces so far. But according to our spies, they're on alert ready to move if the situation turns in their favor."
Ragnar exhaled through his nose, leaning back slightly. "So, in other words we're knee-deep in shit."
No one flinched. Except for Mickael, who blinked in surprise. It was well-known that Ragnar never sugarcoated his thoughts, not even in council.
"We'll mobilize only the army of the south," Ragnar continued firmly. "Any larger deployment could provoke Aragon's intervention. Captain, your forces will be redistributed among the frontier forts to strengthen our defense lines."
"Yes, my lord," the captain replied immediately. "The troops have already been pre-alerted and are ready to move according to your command."
"Good," Ragnar said, glancing toward Mickael. "For further coordination, I'll ask you to step outside now, Mickael."
"Yes, sir," Mickael replied, bowing respectfully before leaving the room.
As the heavy doors closed behind him, he caught one last glimpse of the table men leaning over maps, candles flickering against their hard faces, and Ragnar's shadow stretching long across the room.