The Eastern Front(131)

Shrewd as always, Baldur played the devil's advocate. "Not yet. But he can summon the council and the riksdag and have himself declared regent."

Ulrik shrugged. "So? The riksdag's authority extends only to the kingdom of Sweden. Not to the United States of Europe, not to the union     of Kalmar. Never forget that Gustav II Adolf wears three crowns, not one."

He nodded at Kristina. "And so will she."

"Ah!" said Baldur, as if he has just been enlightened. "I hadn't thought of that. And the equivalent authority of the riksdag when it comes to the union     of Kalmar is . . . ?"

The Americans had a term for it that Ulrik had learned from Eddie Cochrane. Throwing soft pitches. Or was it softball pitches? Easy pitches?

Whatever it was called, Baldur did it superbly.

"Well, that's a very interesting question," said Ulrik. "The final structure of the union     of Kalmar hasn't been settled yet. A union     council was created, but its authority remains unclear. There's certainly nothing in the laws established thus far to give the council the right to create a regent."

He cleared his throat. "To the contrary. The only hard and fast rule when it comes to determining the source of final authority in the union    —which was enshrined by law, right there at the Congress of Copenhagen—is that until such time as what they chose to call the ‘organic royal line' of the union     comes to the throne—"

He pointed a forefinger at Kristina; a thumb at himself. "That's us, and then our children, and so on. But until that time, the Congress clearly stipulated that the king of Sweden was the premier political figure in the union    , followed by—"

He cleared his throat again. "My father, Christian IV, the king of Denmark. So the authority to create a regent for the union     of Kalmar clearly lies with him, given that Gustav II Adolf is incapacitated. Not Axel Oxenstierna, who has no formal standing at all in the government of the union    ."

Kristina was looking brighter by the moment. "What about the United States?"

"Aye, that's the question," said Baldur. "Isn't it?"

"Well, yes, I think so."

Kristina was standing very close to him, now. Ulrik reached out and took her little hands in his. "What you are faced with, my betrothed, is something that no child should have to deal with. But it happens. It has happened before, it will happen again. It's called a succession crisis."

Kristina looked up at Caroline. "Have you heard of that?"

At the time of the Ring of Fire, Caroline Platzer had had the same knowledge of history that most Americans had. Not too bad when it came to American history itself, allowing for big gaps of knowledge between the Revolution and the Civil War and the Civil War and the Great Depression. Abysmal when it came to everything else.

The Greeks invented democracy and were the smartest people who ever lived even if they couldn't run anything bigger than a city. The Romans were very powerful and sometimes majestic but they had a lot of nasty personal habits and killed a lot of Christians. The Dark Ages came next and . . . Moving right along, the Middle Ages were in the middle and there were knights and stuff. Then the English were mean to the Puritans which is why most people in England came to America, and the French had a revolution that went sour and somewhere around that time Napoleon was really big and then you got to modern times and there were two big world wars. And then history ended and current affairs started. That was fourth period class, taught by Mrs. Abrams.

But after the Ring of Fire, she'd taken the study of history much more seriously. To paraphrase Dr. Johnson, being plunged into the Thirty Years' War concentrates the mind wonderfully.

So, today, she knew the answer.

"Yes, and Ulrik's right. It seems like half the wars you Europeans fought were because of succession crises. War of the Spanish Succession, War of the Austrian Succession, War of the Polish Succession. You name the war, and if you dig a little you'll find out it usually got triggered off because King Whatsisname keeled over without leaving any heirs or—this is often worse—did leave an heir but the heir was just a kid."

She was almost glaring, now. "You've heard of Alexander the Great?"

Kristina nodded.

"Well, that was probably the great-grand-daddy succession crisis of them all. He died leaving as his only heir a still unborn son. Guess what happened to his empire?"

Kristina was wide-eyed, mute.

"It got carved into pieces by his generals. Guess what happened to his wife and son?"

Still wide-eyed, still mute.

"They got carved up, too."