ushernet Chapter 592: Law and Order
Chapter 592: Law and Order
Chapter 592: Law and Order
Every eighth day was ‘community day’. Most everyone got together in the morning to talk and socialize, and the afternoon was for community efforts. From sweeping the roads clear of snow and ash to digging wells, there was always something we could band together to get done. The goblins were strangely enthusiastic about the whole thing, shovels and mud flying everywhere as they worked twice as hard as the humans next to them.
I had no idea what that was about, but it lit a competitive spirit under everyone’s asses, and I was all for it. With the approach of winter and the dearth of activities to do, my mind was wandering to all the weapons I had stored, and the slow increase of raids from hungrier and hungrier predators. Starvation and desperation was making them attack anything that could be dinner, and was making them dangerous.
Many Exterreri traditions made so much more sense after the world had ended. The soldier-farmer one was blaring in my mind, and I should probably approach Skye and ask when she planned on drilling everyone in the basics.
When raiders and bandits came, being able to form a shield wall could mean the difference between life and death for the farmers... assuming the Eventide Eclipse were on a trip. If we were around, well... nobody died without me saying so. Then again, a bandit didn’t need to kill anyone to shove them aside and grab everything in a house, and if I wasn’t paying attention, my healing would extend to the bandit as well! The downside of [Persistent Casting] and the image I’d set - I was healing everyone, friend or elvenoid foe.
I tended not to go to the morning community events, and I was hanging out with Auri in our cottage, idly chatting.
I jumped up as I sensed Iona sprinting to the house.
“Auri.” I said, my voice tense, my eyes flickering over to Iona’s armor on the stand. Made the room cramped, but in an emergency, it was the best place for it. The phoenix fluttered to my shoulder, staring at the door intently.
Iona skidded to a halt right outside the door and carefully opened it. Her eyes were beaming and her smile was infectious.
“Elaine! Elaine! There’s going to be a wedding next week! They asked me to officiate!”
The emotional whiplash had me blinking, then grinning.
“That’s great!”
Time went by, and Skye approached me one day, gracefully gliding over the snow without leaving a footprint.
“Elaine, I’ve got a problem, and I want to pick your brain.” She said. I straightened up.
“What can I help you with?” I said.
“We’ve got our first dispute. Our first real dispute, and it’s ugly. I’m hoping you can help me untangle it all. Well, you and Iona. There’s quite a few more people I’d love to rope in, but at the same time, they’re too close to the issue and the community. You two are the right mix of educated and removed enough to help me arbitrate. Do you have the time, say, tomorrow? The sooner we can nip this in the bud, the better.”
I slowly nodded, already shuffling around mental books in my [Astral Archives]. It had been an eternity since Ranger Academy and my law lessons, and Sentinels were rarely deployed to handle issues that could be resolved by talking. Plus, while the philosophy and lessons were there, they were literally ancient. Judicial philosophy had evolved over time, and the Remus Republic hadn’t exactly been fair. Iona was far better suited to this - Valkyries often found themselves as wandering adjudicators for small villages moreso than the strong arm of the law to come down on a monster’s head.
At the same time, I was more removed from the community than average, and without meaning any insult to my neighbors, was objectively far more educated and better read. It didn’t automatically qualify me to pass judgment, but I had experience in the subject.
“I’ll see what I can do.”
Iona and I had dressed up, pulling out a pair of more formal, prettier tunics for the occasion. No armor, it gave off the wrong impression. That was the ‘iron fist of the law’ more so than ‘respected member of the community’. The vibe and politics had shifted with the new situation. I could be Sentinel Dawn... but they also all knew me as Elaine, standing next to them and applauding as Surveyor got married. The influence was different... although I was wearing my personal badge as a subtle reminder. We weren’t in Skye’s office for this, instead choosing to use the larger community center we’d built over the weeks and months. The same place we met every week, where one of the Nixes had been married last week.
Raccoon was dressed up and off to the side, ready to run any errands we might need. This was far better for her than learning how to swing a sword. We all believed Raccoon would be spending more time sorting out arguments than slaying beasts, much to her dismay.
That dismay had turned into glee when she realized she could level from this, get stronger, and be better at murdering monsters. Honestly, it was a hair terrifying how she managed to bring everything back to ‘how to effectively kill things.’
The place was slightly rearranged. The three of us were trying to cram into a table that was generous for one, cozy for two, and downright impossible for three. There just weren’t any bigger tables, and no supplies to make one. Two tables would’ve looked weird, a bedsheet as a tablecloth would’ve been too obvious, and the hall wasn’t wide enough for three. One cramped table was the best, and we hadn’t found a good way to elevate ourselves well.
I was sitting on a pair of thick dictionaries so everyone wouldn’t tower over me. Proper presence and all that.
Skye had insisted that we didn’t get briefed before the discussion, to get the events fresh and untainted.
“They’re both quite early.” Skye frowned, looking at the door. I could sense the crowd outside, and even with a wall between us, I could feel the tension and hostility. Iona didn’t twitch as she telekinetically opened the doors, letting the two groups file in.
There were clearly two groups deeply unhappy with each other. Muttered words, cold looks thrown over shoulders, and some macho posturing bullshit. I had the delayed thought that the ability to talk privately could help. It wasn’t like we had a lot of paper and quills, forget ink production, and I didn’t want to start flashing spells around.
Smoke and a lack of mirrors was the name of the game. I just teleported a spellbook behind me, opened it to the right page, and conjured up a piece of paper and writing tools. Then thought about it again, and conjured up a whole stack of the papers.
Iona was the only one without a perfect memory, but it was all about the appearance. I quickly debated going whole hog and summoning glasses, but quickly decided it was a bridge too far. Another part of [Luminary Mind] was busy scrawling out a complex spell that could let us talk privately when activated, but still hear what was going on, could be flickered, and an extra array for multiple inputs... there!
I half-expected a ding, but no. Too much experience needed, not enough weight or difficulty. Well, at the very least we knew about it for next time. Iterative improvement and all that.
“Invisible privacy barrier.” I quickly explained. “Kills all sounds trying to pass one way when active. Paper isn’t going to last particularly long. This has all the makings of a family feud.”
Iona and Skye nodded.
“I am in agreement.” Skye said. “If the situation is this poor after such a short time, it will inevitably devolve and become a festering sore on the community.”
“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but we clearly don’t have enough problems if they’re able to get in a tiff already.” Iona cocked her head, thinking. “Then again, this could be at the scale of a problem.”
“Tell me.” I said.
She did.
And my wife was right - I did hate it.
But it was a good one.
In the end, Skye delivered our verdict. We all stood up, and Iona called out.
“All rise for Princess Skye and her verdict.”
Skye recited from memory. It was perfect, like mine.
“As the leader of Orthus Town and an Immortal, I am forced to take the long view on the situation. I do not want the poor appearance of justice today, only for a grudge to fester. We cannot sabotage the rule of law to appease a party today, should it shake the foundations of the civilization we are attempting to rebuild. We have gravely considered the case before us, and I believe even more history is required.”
“Aratrum, as you mentioned, your great-grandfather purchased and settled the land. What was not mentioned was the land was fraudulently acquired from Sentinel Dawn, standing right here next to me, as part of a foreign plot against Exterreri, designed to destabilize us. Instead of complaining, instead of taking it to the courts, instead of pulling the rug out from your forefather’s feet and damning them, Sentinel Dawn graciously allowed your ancestor, and many other initial inhabitants of Orthus, to acquire the land and settle down. She received no compensation for such an act, no gratitude, and indeed, her family kept it quiet for the sake of peace. To attempt to then turn around with the most distant of claims is in poor form, for it is better for the farmer to use the land and keep it productive, versus one who would let it lie fallow.”
Aratrum looked displeased at the verdict, but Skye wasn’t done.
“Barmus, we are skeptical as to a number of your claims. You know your neighbors. You grew up with them, played with them. Your family has lived here as long as Aratrum’s family has. While I’ll accept that many of you are all related to each other, we are skeptical of the claims that you were entirely unaware that anybody alive could have a claim to the land. Yes, as you said before, the war has changed everything. But we are here, now and today, and praise for your actions need to be tempered with criticism for how they were taken.”
Both sides looked vaguely displeased now. Skye was balancing things, not letting people know the verdict before it was delivered. Letting people listen.
If she started off with her conclusion, nobody would listen to the reasoning, and the reasoning was almost more important than the conclusion.
“We live in the aftermath of the most devastating war Pallos has ever seen.” She said.
I... kinda believed it. It was possible this was the worst Immortal war ever.
“Yet, with the devastation comes opportunity. There is endless fertile land, stretching out in every direction, for us to claim. For our sons and daughters to grow up on. For a time, we considered barring all parties from the contested property, but we cannot let a petty dispute rob us of functional land, even if we are spoiled for choice. Few lands are intact enough, and at this point, we are capable of looking to the future. Let us not discuss the next harvest, but the next decade, the next century. Let us look to the future.”
More looks and murmurs. I didn’t quite feel the need to split the two parties apart or to hush them, but I was considering it.
“Hear my verdict.” Skye said, and everyone straightened up, leaned forward. One elbow was thrown and a cousin blinked before focusing in on us.
“For the tools and other items taken from the farmhouse, Iona will inspect them, and a fine of approximately 20% of their value will be assessed, for Barmus to pay Aratrum. Given the lack of currency and pricing, we will discuss and work out an equivalent of goods, labor, or favors, to be negotiated between the three of us tomorrow. For the discovery of them came so late that many of them would’ve rusted or rotted away in the meantime without skills and proper shelter to protect them. With the limited resources we have available, we can not afford to lose rare tools to neglect. Neither can we allow, shall we call it, premature grave robbing.” Skye looked sternly at both parties, both of which were pissed at the verdict.
Good!
“As for the land itself, there are four different ways forward. Each year, you will approach me on which one of the four you are taking, until the fourth option is selected.”
That had looks going around, and I ended up pretty happy. Iona and Skye wanted to execute the fourth option immediately, but I managed to convince them to find another way.
“The first and second are practically the same. Either the Barmus family or the Aratrum family will tend to the land for a year, and pay one-fifth of the harvest to the other family as compensation. Should they be unable to decide which family will tend the fields, the third option will take place, where both families are to contribute three workers each to the plowing, planting, growing, and harvesting of the fields. Upon harvest, the yield will be split evenly between the two.”
Skye looked down on the two families, deviating slightly from the script.
“I don’t have to tell you two how unhappy I’ll be if you can’t figure out which crop to plant. You’re both intelligent, skilled farmers.”
Whoop, good point. Kinda missed that. Good call! She returned back to the script.
“Lastly is the fourth option. Our community is small, and options for marriage and families are greatly limited. In this generation, or perhaps the next, it is nearly inevitable that a member of the Aratrum family will marry a member of the Barmus family. When that happy day occurs, the land will revert to their new household. This should encourage the two of you to put your best foot forward when it comes to maintaining the land and keeping it in good condition. After all, your son will one day live there. Your daughter will give birth in that house. Your grandchildren will run through those fields. The land is entirely excessive for a single household, but all of you will grow, prosper, and flourish. Let the farmstead be a symbol for the future, of hope and rebirth. May the grudge die here and now.”
I was pleased with the modifications. Iona and Skye had wanted to just marry off a couple as soon as possible, because, honestly, that was the way the world mostly worked. My own experience with ‘hey, here’s your husband, good luck’ had me fighting viciously against it. I didn’t want to be the extra pressure that made them throw two people together because I’d ordered it. I wanted the relief, the ability for them to think about it, and not go ‘well, she’s 33 and he’s 17, but they’re both single so I guess they’re ordering those two married.’
[*ding!* [Everywoman] leveled up! 505 -> 506]
It took a moment for the verdict to sink in. There wasn’t a whole lot of cheering or happy looks, but the two patriarchs were now looking at each other in an entirely different light. Aratrum held out his arm, and Barmus clasped it.
“Well, I do believe I’ve got an old wine bottle hidden away. Want to discuss this over it?” Barmus asked.
Aratrum snorted.
“Only if it was one of my cousin’s.”