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.”

I lifted my finger off the spell, letting it dissipate.

“Family Aratrum. Family Barmus. You’ve come before us today, requesting arbitration. It is entirely likely the solution we come up with will leave nobody satisfied.”

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

That comment got scowls all around. Come on! Of course if a situation was already this ugly any solution was unlikely to make people happy! Even assuming they were all reasonable people. Heck, I’d taken it on the chin at one point!

Actually - that was one heck of a note to leave in my pocket.

Skye continued speaking like she hadn’t seen the dissatisfied looks.

“Nonetheless, I’ll ask you all to swear the following. Swear to abide by the decision made. Swear to work in good faith. Swear to tell the truth, as best you know it, and to not lie or obfuscate. Swear this by the gods and the system.”

The two patriarchs swore. Skye pointed at Aratrum.

“Please tell me the events as you know them. Barmus, I will ask you to then explain the events as you know them, and then we will ask questions to try and clarify the events. Begin.”

“Well miss, it all started a few decades ago. My great-grandfather bought some land, and…”

It took two hours of stories and questions to get the details of the case. Blessedly, the facts weren’t in question, simply the resolution.

Aratrum’s second cousin had owned a farm, one relatively untouched by the war. The cousin and his entire family had died though, and the farm was left abandoned. Aratrum believed he was the closest living relative, and as such, should inherit the farm, the land, and all that.

Aratrum also had his own farm, located a dozen miles away. It wasn’t like this was his big chance, he simply believed it would naturally fall to him as the only heir. Nobody was contesting that he was the closest living relative. Additionally, he’d gone through the effort of marking the farm and the lands with survey pegs, the ones we were using to show land as “claimed” or not. There were some excessively generous claims out there… but when nobody was contesting them, we were letting them go. I didn’t want to say greed was good, but if a family greedily lay stake to a large chunk of land, then successfully worked it, that was great for everyone. The backbone of civilization was excess food production.

Barmus’ case was quite strong as well. The farm in question was their direct neighbor, their fields touching each other. When he’d found his neighbor and their family slain, he’d buried them, then immediately took over on the crops. He’d grown them, harvested them, then plowed a second time and with his skills, gotten a second harvest in before winter. He - and his family - had spent large amounts of time, effort, and skills on the land. Being the pragmatic sort, they’d also looted the farm. Why let good tools rust away, when there were willing hands to use them?

As for the survey markers, the falling ashes had hidden them. We all had a number of questions, and I wasn’t quite convinced that they hadn’t known at all. I activated the privacy barrier again once we felt we had all the information needed.

“I’m not entirely convinced they didn’t know about the survey markers.” I said. “Surveyor or one of the others had to be stomping around there. They never asked who was poking around? They didn’t see the markers before the ashes covered them up?”

Skye disagreed.

“It’s entirely plausible. It was the first few days after everything had changed. For all we know, the markers could’ve been placed in the evening, during a community day, or during the funeral. We quickly moved on the markers, and nobody wants rotting bodies around. They didn’t claim any other land, so they might not have been as aware.”

“Even if we pretended they knew and actively ignored it, the fundamental underlying issues don’t change.” Iona said. “Morally and ethically, Barmus should have the field. They’re the ones who’ve gone out and worked it. Aratrum’s ignored the situation, and is only now coming to us for help.”

Skye frowned while I shook my head.

“There’s an old legal idea called acquisition by use.” I said. “Barmus only slightly meets the criteria. If he’d been farming there for sixteen years, yeah. It’d be his. But we can’t expect people to check every month to see if something’s going on. When was the last time we checked the site of our villa? If we found squatters there, we’d want to kick them out, regardless if they were using the place or not. It’s ours.”

“I agree with Elaine’s conclusion, but for a different cause.” Skye said. “What use are the rules we lay down, if we permit them to be so flagrantly violated? What does it say to our rule of law, when we discard the law at the first challenge? No, it undermines the entire system we are trying to build, it corrupts the foundation, should we choose to disregard the rules.”

Iona crossed her arms.

“Fine. Let’s look at the people involved, and see if we can divine anything.” I knew she was doing this in large part for me. Bless her soul. “Aratrum and Barmus both believe they’re in the right. Barmus feels like Aratrum is trying to use legal trickery to grab the farmland he’s worked so hard for. Aratrum believes Barmus is robbing him of his inheritance.”

“How strong should claims from the ‘old world’ so to speak be?” Skye wondered. “We don’t want to claim a pure tabula rasa, but letting too many persist and linger would be detrimental.”

“All knowledge is worth preserving. It’ll help the rebuild go quicker and smoother.” I said. “Getting off topic a moment, but the simple knowledge of three field crop rotation is going to save thousands to millions of lives alone, instead of needing to rediscover it. Same with…” I caught myself rambling entirely off-topic and shut up.

“Judicial philosophy on justice is both well-developed, and worth preserving, and too large, and worth being skeptical about, at the same time.” Iona said, getting us back on topic.

“It’s worth noting neither will starve if we rule against them.” I added in.

“No, we’d simply set off a generational feud, which would end badly.” Skye said.

It was a mess, and we spent hours, at speed, discussing it. Not only the case and potential solutions, but once we’d made a decision, who was going to deliver it and how.

Man, I’d given grief to magistrates before on how long they took to do anything… I had a dramatically renewed appreciation for them, and was thanking my lucky stars we hadn’t had too many of these when I’d been a Ranger.

Then again, another part of me greatly enjoyed it all. The give and take, the intellectual problem, solving issues without needing to resort to violence or the System. Words, made into power.

“Elaine, love, I’ve got an idea, but you’re going to absolutely hate it.” Iona said. I raised an eyebrow.

“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.”