Be careful what you wish for.

Word of the threat reached Prinz Geoffrey during a tremendous banquet, the banquet at which he was to award the distinguished David.Linienblatt the Prinz’s Merit Award for artistic service in designing Cavenderia’s new colors. During the secondi a green-coated soldier interrupted the meal bellowing like a crisp north wind, “I beg his lord’s forgiveness but I have information which his grace will most certainly wish to hear.” The Prinz immediately recognized the uniform of infantry regiment Jung which was garrisoned along Cavenderia’s southern coast in Spilt. Geoffrey thought, “Could the rumors be true, could the Bizerrcans be sailing into Cavenderian waters?” Geoffrey was unaware he was staring when he felt a hand at his wrist; it was Detlev, his closest advisor who whispered “such information would be best digested in private, my lord.”

The Prinz was escorted into a private setting room where his most senior advisors and the green-coated soldier awaited him. Geoffrey’s stomach sank as he was told of a half dozen red-sailed Xebecs appearing on the horizon near Spilt, of the Dey’s ultimatum and finally of the defiant rebuttal of the port’s elders; which according to the soldier had only been issued after Colonel Jung had shamed them for being less than men having considered capitulation.

The Prinz took pride in his familial history. His great-grandfather had fought for rebellion, his grandfather for independence and his father for coin, but all had fought a civilized enemy; an enemy who knew “the rules” of warfare. Geoffrey thought, “Our army is just prepared, but our navy is weedy and ours will be a desperate defensive battle”. The Prinz had the enviable ability to mask his emotions behind a polite smile, but his news certainly was testing that ability. Fear began to assault Geoffrey’s senses, he screamed in his mind, “Where were her majesty’s ships? How could the Dey’s fleet arrive in Cavenderian waters unmolested? Surely this Dey must be powerful.”

The soldier summarized the coastal defenses and delivered his Colonel’s papers requesting additional troops. Upon completion of the soldier’s tale all eyes were affixed upon the Prinz, eyes yearning for encouraging words from their lord. The stares assaulted Geoffrey like a torrential rain. Geoffrey’s pulse raced, his hands were noticeably tight upon his seat and then at the apex of his fear a calm resolve washed over him, almost as if his ancestors had poured courage into him from a ghostly carafe.

Geoffrey’s feelings become more aggressive almost malignant, he thought, “well, if a nefarious, ignoble privateer such as Jung can show courage in the face of such an adversary, world be damned!!! if he of noble birth, with the blood of so many honorable soldiers flowing through his veins would display anything other than ardent bravery.”

The Prinz stood and with a focused look ordered everyone, save Detlev, out of the room to await his address. The Prinz raised his hand before his advisor could speak and said, “We believe there to be no deliberation or need for consul on this matter, surely war is upon Cavenderia and we shall teach this pagan to respect our might by casting his forces across the sea. Cavenderia is now at war with the Dey and Cavenderia shall prevail.” Detlev responded, “This fight will surely test the peoples resolve and Cavenderia’s resources but your decision is just and true, my lord”

Geoffrey took a deep breath, adjusted his wig and nodded to his advisor to open the doors. The ever-present smile of the Prinz appearing on his face as he strode into the hall to address his subjects. Behind the calm demeanor of the Prinz, self doubt crept into Geoffrey’s thoughts, “Prinz Geoffrey the Bold, Prinz Geoffrey the Just or Geoffrey the Fool, what will they call us?”