The Vassenwald Bowl

The princeling's eyes darted between all the glittering treasures in the vault. Leading him to the far corner, Landgrave Otto proclaimed loudly, "Here is the most important object in this room."

"Papa, it's a chipped bowl someone scribbled on."

His father laughed because it was. Looking shabby, the once black writing spiraled toward the center of the shallow dish. Parts of the ancient clay had chipped off and a crack ran almost to the center. "This, little Henry, is the treaty that created Sweibruken," He explained

The boy took a step forward. Looking at the strange letters, he ran his finger along the bowl. "This is really a treaty?" He frowned, "I can't read it."

"It was written a very long time ago before people used the Laoi alphabet. You see your great-grandfather, with quite a few more greats, Ethelred, was a true innocent. It's said that he never," The Landgrave coughed as he searched for an appropriate word, "slept with his wife." The boy almost laughed, but then thought the better of it. "So, he didn't have any children. Worse for the country, he never said who should inherit the large kingdom he had amassed through conquest and marriage."

Henry's eyes brightened. "Was there a war?"

"Yes, but a prince should never want war, especially not with family. King Ethelred's sister, Saint Beatrix, claimed the kingdom belonged to her son, Henry. Having converted to the Church of All Gods years before, she pleaded for their aid against the King's cousin, Ulrick, a heathen. The war initially went well for Beatrix until they got to the deep Wald. Ulrick's men used disreputable tactics like sneak attacks and hiding archers in trees."

"Isn't that just smart?"

Otto shrugged a little and winked. "Not when your enemy is using it against you. For years, the war bogged down. Finally, a priest negotiated this treaty. Ulrick married King Ethelred's wife since she was still pure, gaining the Wald, and Henry became King of the rest of the contested lands."

"Why a bowl? Didn't they have paper? And if Ethelred and Henry were kings, why aren't you? And why did the Church let a heathen rule? And ...." Questions flooded out of the boy like a rushing river.

Placing a finger to his son's lips, the landgrave stopped their flow. "When people in those days forged a treaty, all parties sat down to a meal. The words were written on a bowl that was used to serve bread. People then were very superstitious and believed if you broke such a treaty, the gods would kill you."

"So bowl. Treaty. Got it. Are we done?" Henry frowned, squirming under his father's gaze.

Thinking back to when he had been in his son's place, he hadn't understood either. "Would you like to try on my crown now?"