A ring in a desk drawer. A girl who was sunshine and is now shadow. Behind her own eyes, something old and patient maps the room and waits for Charles to look away. Council is now in session.
The council was held over a fire pit, with Scarlet Wentworth, Marcus Wentworth, and Edmund Robbins on one side, and three of the Urukesh krangs on the other—Haddagan, Borridor, and Vanderhast. There was history in the space between them even before a word was spoken.
The morning session was mostly a discussion between Marcus and Vanderhast, both presenting documentation of historical maps and written record about land borders. While there were some minor disagreements, none of them rose to a level of anger, each resolving in kind. One hundred acres here for one hundred acres there and a new border agreed to.
“Lake Taneka is a problem,” Vanderhast said.
“How so?”
“You have humans owning ninety percent of the shore, and we show equal use of the lake historically. I’d ask that you draw that back to the halfway position.”
“First,” Marcus said, “I think we should agree that whenever there is a body of water where the bordering land is held by both sides, that the entirety of the body of water should be available to all parties.”
“You’re suggesting,” Vanderhast said, “that if a river runs between our peoples that we should be able to fish and boat the entirety of the river and so should you?”
“That’s what I’m proposing,” Marcus said. “I think there is historical precedent, not just in Bravia, but in most nations.”
Vanderhast’s shoulders shifted—a small thing, but Marcus had been watching borders long enough to know what it meant. Borridor scowled. Haddagan nodded.
“It is agreed,” Vanderhast said. “About Taneka?”
Marcus smiled. “You’ll recall please that I had a similar issue in the south with the Sandwash River and you declined to budge?”
Vanderhast frowned.
Scarlet interjected. “We’ll pull back to the halfway point. Let it be so.” A slight pause—she felt the weight of it even as she spoke it. Marcus drew on his map while Vanderhast did the same on his.
As before they compared maps and shook hands on the resolution.
“Let’s take a break,” Haddagan suggested. “I don’t know about you, but my stomach has been growling for a while now, and I am smelling meat from the firepits. Can we take an hour or so?”
“Agreed,” Scarlet said.
At that they each closed their maps, picked up their papers, and stored them safely as people began moving to the various fire pits in the rocky field. Humans on one side. Urukesh on the other.
Scarlet grabbed Philip’s hand and said, “Let’s break this wall.”
She led him to where Krang Haddagan and Vanderhast sat, and dropped down beside them without ceremony. Neither Uruk moved toward her, but neither moved away.
Scarlet sat on a smooth stone, cleared her throat, and said, “People at peace eat together.”
Haddagan nodded, said nothing, and handed her a skewer with meat on it. He then handed one to Philip.
Scarlet took a bite, chewed, and then nodded, smiling. “It’s good. What is it?”
“Horse.”
Her stomach lurched, but there was no outward sign as she finished the skewer of meat. Peace, she reminded herself.
Philip followed suit.
The silence afterward held longer than it should have—but no one broke it.
The afternoon session opened with Krang Haddagan setting down his water skin and folding his hands on the table.
“We have a significant issue to address,” he said, “which we have been putting off.”
“Which is?”
“Kethara and Vorghast.”
“I don’t know what those are,” Scarlet said. Marcus turned his palms up—neither did he.
“They are Urukesh towns along what was the former border. Technically on land that, it appears in both versions of the histories, was Wentworth land.”
“Then they must be ceded back,” Scarlet said. “That’s the agreement in principle.”
“You’re talking about uprooting six thousand of our people from homes that have been theirs for two generations. We cannot agree to that. Humans have not even been there for sixty years.”
“I appreciate this concern, but our people were uprooted without mercy,” Scarlet said. “For decades, as you pushed deeper into my lands.”
“Because you had taken Gharaveth. There’d have been no war if you had not done that.”
“Let me remind you, Krang Haddagan, that I did not do that, nor did anyone in my family. Your dispute on Gharaveth was really with the Ashcrofts, whose baron is recently deceased, nevertheless, we agree that it is your land and always should have been.”
“Be that as it may,” Haddagan said. “There are about thirty thousand acres along the strip that contain those two towns that we cannot relinquish.”
“What do you offer in exchange?” Scarlet asked.
“I have a suggestion,” Haddagan said.
“Go on.”
“There have been recent revelations about a certain mount two days east of here, named Helios, on which sits a citadel—home to the Knights Celestial.”
“Yes?”
“It is currently unguarded. My proposal is to establish the Heliosi, an elite company of guardians to protect the Sun Citadel.”
A pause lingered after he spoke, longer than the words themselves.
“It would be made up mostly of Urukesh, since it is nearer to our lands, but would certainly be open to humans to join.”
Scarlet and Philip both sat back from the table. She pressed her fingertips and thumbs together, forming a cradle in which she placed her chin, and did not speak immediately.
Haddagan pushed on. “In exchange for these thirty thousand acres and towns that have become Urukesh over the years, I propose that the Urukesh fund the Heliosi and maintain those guards on behalf of the Knights Celestial.”
Scarlet held the position a moment longer, then set her hands flat on the table. “A new order?” she asked.
“Yes,” Haddagan said.
She was silent for a while, her attention moving over both groups—Urukesh and Human—and then drifting east toward the mounts, toward where she knew Helios sat, two days distant.
“I need a moment to discuss with my people,” Scarlet said.
She, Philip, Marcus, Bertram, and Travis moved a ways off from the negotiations.
“Thoughts?” she asked.
“My lady,” Philip said. “Does this not go against the very wishes you expressed to me yestereve? That the Knights Celestial should be neutral?”
“What do you mean?”
“He’s proposing trading Wentworth land, something you would give up, for protection of the Knights Celestial. The knights get the benefit, not you.”
Marcus nodded. “I agree with Philip.”
“Bertram?”
“It’s hard to disagree that you see no benefit from the proposal—or at least our family does not,” he said.
“Travis?”
“My lady,” he said. “I think he needs to trade thirty thousand for thirty thousand. Somewhere else along the border and that the Heliosi, while a great idea, is a totally separate issue that should be managed directly by the Knights Celestial. Otherwise, the Wentworth are, effectively, paying for the Heliosi, while the Urukesh are claiming to do so. That crosses the political lines, in my view.”
Scarlet nodded. “I appreciate all of your thoughts.”
They returned to the negotiation and sat. Scarlet made a motion to smooth her skirt, but stopped when she realized she was wearing riding trousers.
Drogoth had joined them—standing at the edge of the circle in the gleaming armor of the Knights Celestial, hands folded, having arrived without anyone hearing him come.
“I will not interrupt the negotiations,” he said. “Only to state the position of the Knights Celestial.”
He inclined his head toward each side in turn.
“If the Heliosi is formed, it must remain independent of all factions, including ours.”
He paused.
“That is all.”
He stepped back to rejoin the other knights, who continued to observe in silence.
“Krangs,” Scarlet said. “The Heliosi are an excellent idea. But as Sir Drogoth has pointed out, that is an issue for the Knights Celestial. I do not speak on their behalf. I speak on behalf of my family, and therefore I cannot agree to the exchange.”
“We aren’t willing to leave those lands,” Haddagan said.
“Let’s not let this be the one thing that keeps us apart,” she said.
“Then will you concede it?” Borridor asked.
“No,” she said. “But I offer an alternative.”
“Let’s hear your proposal,” Vanderhast said.
“I propose,” she said, “that we expand the territory to sixty thousand acres. Thirty thousand on each side. And that this space be designated as the borderlands. And further that this space be freely available for both Urukesh and Human to settle and live. Now—we make it clear that racial infighting won’t be tolerated. And what we wind up with is Urukesh and Human living together again. We make this our trial.”
Marcus glanced down at the map, not trusting the simplicity of it. Borridor started to speak, then stopped.
Haddagan said nothing for a moment. He picked up a stone from beside his boot, turned it in his fingers, and set it down.
“And if it doesn’t work?” he asked.
“Then we draw the border down the middle and the Urukesh withdraw.”
Haddagan raised his hand to protest, but she interrupted him.
“I recognize this puts your people in those towns at risk. But it’s also an incentive for peace.” A pause. “Will the Urukesh make peace?”
The Urukesh withdrew into themselves, speaking sharply in their own language, the firelight catching the edges of their tension.
When they returned, Krang Haddagan sat calmly. His companions stood behind him now.
“Fifty thousand,” he said. “Twenty-five thousand on each side.”
“Agreed,” she said immediately.
It came too fast to feel safe—but it was the only path forward.
Krang Vanderhast and Marcus Wentworth drew the lines together, compared maps, and shook hands.
Handshakes were exchanged as the negotiations finished. Even Borridor and Philip shook hands, although Borridor referred to him as Edmund, rather than as one of the knights.
Scarlet and Haddagan joined hands and together, called loudly, “Let there be Peace!”
After the treaty was signed, people from both sides stayed at the fire, eating and talking.
A Urukesh soldier passed a skin of drink to a human woman on the far side of the fire. No one commented.
She nodded, hesitated, and then cut a loaf on a cutting board and placed it on a stone near the fire for all to share.
Laughter rose somewhere behind them.
The line that had existed all day simply stopped mattering.
Stephen B. Anthony is the author of Transmigrant, an epic science fiction thriller, available on both Amazon and Audible.
I really like how you add complexity without any ill will
Breath of relief!!