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Chapter 2: Norway
4 days later, Ionos Island, Novus Cavalier, a few miles east of Zyder…
Sinther watched as new recruits conducted their standard exercises. Contrary to popular belief, not all Dragon Riders trained in Ionos would become Dragon Elites, and Elites weren't the only adept Riders in Ionos. In fact, the Elites comprised less than a third of all trained Dragon Riders. What gave most the impression that the Elites were the only Riders was because they were the only ones who could remain active after training.
Fifty years ago, shortly after the death of King Kendrick Peverell, the Council had been at a lost as to what to do without a King. Exploiting the confusion which followed, the Ministry had been able to coerce the Council to disband the Ionian Army, or more importantly, the Dragon Armada. The Dragon Armada was one of the first in seen in the Wizarding World, a magnificent feat in itself. At its largest, the Dragon Armada had up to two-hundred and eighty Dragon Riders with accompanying mounts. It was one of the most feared forces in Europe. The British Ministry felt particularly threatened by its presence due to its close proximity and the danger it posed as a raiding force.
The Council would only regroup and recover a decade later. By that time, they had reformed a small and poorly trained force which did next to nothing. This new "army" was hardly recognized as a force which led to the demeaning of the Dragon Elites publicly. As a result of one too many insults, many senior members of the Elites were suspended due to assault charges, and in the most extreme cases, homicide.
It took another five years before they would have the guts to try and reform their Dragon Armada. By that time, Ionos had been weakened militarily and financially that it could not hope to fight a war, which was what the British threatened if they started up the Dragon Armada again. At that time they had no choice but to cede to the demands made. Failure to comply would mean their annihilation.
But now, after years of poverty and indecisiveness, the Ministry had deemed them to be of no threat. Surveillance on them had become practically nonexistent. And that was the reason that brought Sinther to Novus Cavalier, the primary training camp for Dragon Riders. Reforming the Armada was now possible without alerting the Ministry, seeing as they were far too busy dealing with the Death Eaters. Added to the fact that the King had personally ordered him to gather up as many Riders as possible and his reason for coming was solid. After all, what better a reason to recruit than the King's command?
Sinther turned his attention to the more trained flyers in the camp. If he was right in his guess, the King would follow through with Faren's plan. And standard Ionian military tactics included hit and run raids using the Dragons. These nuisance attacks would gradually weaken the enemy until the Army's Commander was confident in a decisive victory. In this case, that would be the King himself seeing as he had taken quite a liking to directing the war preparations. But the King was not a typical Ionian strategist.
It should prove interesting to see how the King employs the Dragons in the field. Sinther thought. I wonder how the King is dealing with the visit to Norway. What could he possibly seek to gain from those Scandinavians?
Rigan…
"Are you certain you are ready for this 'diplomatic talk' as you call it?" Rigan asked worriedly. The King was still new to this concept and though he had no doubts he would be a good ruler one day, he could not help but be concerned for how the King would deal with the Scandinavian Ministry this early into his rule, and vice versa. It had taken a full eight hours to convince the Ministry to meet with a boy that was apparently the King of Ionos. That was the easy part. Well, compared to trying to convince them that this was not some joke and that Harry was indeed the official Head of State of Ionos. That had taken the most of two days to do.
"Ready as I'll ever be in a week's time. We need this meeting to be a success if we want any chance at taking back Silidus and Prodimus." Harry said.
"I suppose." Rigan nodded in understanding before turning to speak to the head of the King's Personal Detail (K.P.D.) for the trip. "Captain Vide, ready the portkeys for travel."
"Yes sir." The captain saluted and relayed the instructions to his men. A few seconds passed in silence before he spoke again. "Portkeys are primed to ten seconds. Everyone grab a hold of one now!"
Harry held onto one of the portkeys along with five of his guards. Three, two, one… He silently counted down. Zero. Harry tightened his grip as felt his feet lift up from the ground. The world was spinning faster and faster in Harry's eyes as dizziness began settling in. He shut his eyes for a few seconds. Suddenly, the familiar sensation of standing on the ground once more overtook him. He opened his eyes, not entirely surprised to have arrived at Oslo, or more specifically, the Portkey Arrival Area of the Norwegian Ministry.
The Norwegian Ministry building followed the typical Scandinavian architectural designs. The entire complex was made of pine and strengthened by numerous wards with the exception of the floor, which was made with smooth marble. The wards of the Norwegian Ministry were the best in the world, as was the same with those of Scandinavian Countries due to their reliance on wood as a primary construction material. Their reliance led to development of wards to ensure the sturdiness of the buildings. They boasted of the buildings impregnable walls that would stand upright in the face of any calamity known to man.
Harry turned his attention to a checkpoint that guarded the exit to the room. The Norwegian Aurors, commonly known as the Vaktrol, eyed them suspiciously, unsure of whom they were and why they were here. The three squads of accompanying Guardians stared at them stonily in return. The result was what seemed to be two opposing forces staring each other down in some secret and very silent battle of the pupils.
Harry decided that now would be a good time to wear his crown. He had taken it off due to the likely possibility of losing it during portkey travel, with everything spinning and all. Spells were almost impossible to apply on the three most magic resistant metals in the world, especially so in the case of Mithril.
It was a simple crown when compared to the elaborateness of muggle royalty, but a crown nonetheless. The circlet was made from a combined alloy of Mithril and Silver, giving it a silver hue. Around the circlet were seven diamonds of the same size and shape, placed equidistantly in the crown. Finally, a dragon was engraved onto the crown, appearing to be snaking around the entire circlet.
The crown was an absolute sign of authority and rank in the Wizarding World. While anyone could wear one without repercussion, it was a sense of honor and reverence to the power and responsibility that came with these objects that restrained most wizards and witches from wearing one without any right to do so. In the entire history of the magical world, no person ever had the gall to wear a crown he had not earned or had not been entitled to. Tradition was, after all, very important.
Upon seeing the crown on Harry's head, the Vaktrol Commander quickly reacted. "Oppmerksomheten!"The Norwegian commanded. At once, the Vaktrol stood at attention. "Hilsen!" The Vaktrol obeyed once again, without hesitation, saluting to Harry in deference to his rank. The deadlock was broken.
The Commander waved his wand, casting a translation charm on himself. "State your name and your business." He asked in a thick, gruff voice.
Rigan stepped forward to respond. "His Highness, King Harry James Potter of Ionos, is here to meet with Minister Agnar Dalen." The Commander turned to his men and shouted some orders, before he reverted back to English. "My men will lead you to the Minister's office." Twelve Vaktrols quickly surrounded their group and led them out of the room and into the Atrium of the Norwegian Ministry. The atrium was filled with fireplaces, extravagantly so, in fact. It was probably due to the cold weather and internal heating was vital to the Scandinavians. It was their fourth necessity
Several minutes of walking later found them at the door of the Minister's office. There were several dozen more guards stationed outside, all of whom made hasty salutes as Harry passed by. One of the guards who led them whispered something to whom Harry presumed was their leader. Said man cast a translation charm between them as the previous commander had done. "Welcome to Norway, Lord of Ionos. For security measures, only you and your advisors will be allowed into the meeting area. Your guards will stay here with us to make sure no one unauthorized may enter." He said.
"I understand, commander." Harry replied nodding. The commander looked visibly relieved that Harry had agreed so quickly, and opened the door of the Minister's office. Harry and Rigan were both showed in.
The Norwegian Minister didn't seem all that surprised to see them. In fact, he looked rather impatient to Harry. "You are the new Lord of Ionos?" Minister Dalen asked condescendingly.
"I am, Minister Dalen." Harry replied, keeping his face impassive.
Agnar frowned slightly. He had expected more of a reaction from a boy so young rather than the reserved calmness he showed currently. "So tell me Lord Ionos, why is it you have come to Norway? I doubt it is to enjoy the freezing cold weather and I believe you have wooden buildings in England."
"We were hoping to have a diplomatic meeting, Minister Agnar, and I would prefer if you held back your cheek in this conversation." Harry snapped.
Agnar was startled by the suddenness of the statement. So the boy knows a thing or two about proper conduct. "I…apologize Lord Ionos."
The boy smiled slightly after hearing this. "I will overlook your breach of conduct this time Minister. What do you know about the Age of the Oceans?"
"The Age of Oceans? Well, I know that that time period was when Battleships were dominant amongst our cultures."
"And where are these Battleships of yours now?"
Where is the boy getting at? Agnar thought curiously. "Some are in active use. Others are in storage."
"And I trust they are in good condition?" Harry asked.
"Of course. All our ships are armed and ready to mobilize at any time." Agnar said. Normally, he would not reveal such things to people, even foreign leaders, but he was going on his gut instinct in this meeting.
Harry's smile grew wider "Excellent, excellent. How much would renting one cost?"
The Minister looked dumbfounded. This was not what he had expected. "Renting?"
"Yes, renting, defined as exchanging cash for borrowing things in this case."
"Now see here, I cannot just let you buy-"
"I'm not buying, I'm borrowing." Harry interrupted.
"Fine, fine. I cannot let you just borrow my ships and all will be well in the world. Certain appearances must be maintained! How would the people react if they knew I willingly let you go with three of our ships? Out nations are mortal enemies after all."
"Surely the people are more mature than that? The wars between our lands ended ages ago."
"It just ended in the last two hundred and eighty five years." Agnar grumbled.
Harry stared at him in disbelief. "Like I said, ages ago."
"But the memories are still fresh."
"I hate to say this, but, everyone alive back then, is probably dead or senile. I doubt they remember half the things that happened to them after going through nearly three decades."
"Very well, but precautions need to be taken so no one finds out you got the ships from us."
"Such as?"
"Place your flags atop the ships. We'll let you 'borrow' the ships we stole from the British in the last war."
"Fine by me, but I will need three Battleships, armed more preferable. They will be needed for two months for …military services." Harry said.
"I believe this will be a very profitable interaction between our two states, Lord Ionos. Perhaps we should go to the docks so you may choose the ships yourself?" Agnar suggested.
"Yes, perhaps that would be best." Harry replied. And so the bargaining commenced.
"…For Independent Autonomous States, the head of state's official title is Lord. This is the official address people from different places use to address said monarch, despite the fact that the state refers to their head as King instead of Lord. Although there have been many arguments on the topic since time in memorial, the ICW settled the matters in 1932 after fierce debating..."
-excerpt from Proper Titles by Andrew Hearth