Fields of Wrath

by Mickey Zucker Reichert

  King Griff said his first words since his opening statement that did not constitute an inquiry. “Only if it pleases Perry Arner’s son. He has first right to speak for himself and his people.”

  Perry did not seem to know what to do. Finally, he rose, gave another awkward bow and said, “Thass fine wit’ me fo’ Erik ta do th’ talkin’ fo’ us.” He dropped back down to his chair.

  Erik rose again. “Your Majesties, the invaders did not steal half the land from the Paradisians, they took it all. Perry’s people already tried sharing with the Renshai, and we saw the result. The Renshai slaughtered dozens of Paradisians without a bare hint of remorse. And now that they have, apparently, gone free without punishment . . . in fact, rewarded with half of the Paradisians’ lands, why would they hesitate to massacre Paradisians again?” This time, Erik seemed to realize he had said enough and sat.

  Saviar took a deep breath and waited for King Griff to, inevitably, address him next.

  The high king did not disappoint. “And you, Representative of the Renshai. How would you react to a division of the land with side-by-side residency with the Paradisians?”

  Saviar caught the leg of his chair as he prepared to rise, sending it toppling backward. Appreciating the delay this gained him, he placed it back into proper position and apologized, still trying to determine what to say. Finally, he had no choice but to speak, not entirely certain what would emerge from his mouth. “Your Majesties, if that is what came out of these negotiations, we would do our best to make it work. We have never barred any Erythanian, any ganim for that matter, from living among us, though few choose to do so. So long as they mean us no harm, they are welcome, and we will happily pay them for any services they provide. However, if attacked in any manner, we demand the full right of any Western citizen to defend ourselves with whatever force is necessary.” He sat.

  Erik rolled his eyes but did not attempt to reclaim the floor. As Erik took the role of spokesman, Geirrodr apparently felt the need to fill in for Erik. He murmured loud enough for everyone to hear. “We have seen how the Renshai ‘defend themselves.’”

  Saviar did not rise to the bait, and Weile acted as if he had not heard. Kedrin frowned his displeasure but did not rebuke the Northman. Either he did not want to be seen as taking sides or he had decided to lecture selectively, perhaps only when the slight might offend royalty.

  King Griff took charge again, as he must. “Before I make my decision, does any party to these negotiations wish to add anything more?”

  Saviar remained in place. He believed Griff had all the information he needed and trusted the high king of Béarn to make the right decision, whether or not anyone else liked or agreed with it. However, Saviar did not formalize his intention to remain silent, wanting the opportunity to change his mind should anyone on the other side make a point that required disputing.

  Perry shook his head. “I gots nothin’ lefta say, ya Majesties.”

  To no one’s surprise, Erik rose. “I’m afraid that as Representative of the Northmen, I must add one important detail.” He sighed deeply, the first indication he was dealing with significant concerns of his own beyond simple rabble-rousing. “The Northmen do have a stake in this decision and will not be a party to what we consider a grave injustice. If the innocent Paradisians don’t get their due, we will have no choice but to withdraw our alliances and support for any nation involved, including military backup and trading authority.”

  It was a veiled threat; and, though it did not surprise Saviar, several of the king’s ministers showed obvious signs of disapproval and discomfort. Nostrils flared, upper lips quirked upward, eyebrows bunched. Saviar studied his grandfather. Though well-schooled in remaining nonjudgmental and keeping his thoughts to himself, Kedrin was clearly struggling. His left eye twitched and his lower lip slipped into his mouth, presumably so he could bite it back along with the angry words he surely longed to speak.

  In this situation, only a king had the authority to intervene, and neither seemed inclined to do so. Humfreet looked more relieved than agitated. Saviar suspected he was glad he had turned the matter over to King Griff. Griff wore the same innocent expression he always did. The Renshai had never heard anyone disparage the sweet and simple-seeming king, but he suspected the gravest insult would roll neatly off the Béarnide’s enormous back. Griff found the best in every person, in each situation, and no one ever seemed to find a reason to speak ill of him.

  Experience told Saviar it ought to take a room full of advisers arguing for months to find a potential resolution to a problem this dangerous and complex. He also knew Griff did not have the luxury of time. Between the menace of the Northmen, the demands of Weile Kahn, and the imminent confrontation between the Paradisians and the released Renshai, every moment counted. The looming possibility of war added more urgency, especially with shifting alliances and impatience among the diverse peoples. Unlike the Knights of Erythane, justice was not Griff’s only priority. In fact, it might not even rank near the top of his concerns.

  Wise men had much to say about compromise, most of it as conflicting as the situations that demanded it. It seemed to Saviar that it mostly consisted of a decision that left adversaries believing they had gained only what they did not want in exchange for sacrificing what they justly deserved. He braced himself, knowing he would not like much of what King Griff had to say, yet also that the Renshai would get no better deal from anyone. Whatever the result, the Renshai would find a way to live with it. They always did.

  King Griff cleared his throat. He shifted his weight as if to rise, then noticed the entire room scrambling to do the same, and stopped mid-movement. Instead, he spoke from his seat. “I have listened to all sides of this quarrel, as well as to the underlying subtext that makes this far more than a dispute over a piece of land.”

  Saviar caught himself staring. According to stories, when Griff had first arrived in Béarn, he had had no training, no royal upbringing, the unsophistication of a commoner. He still did not use the archaic and flowery language of the more staid and traditional ministers and Knights of Erythane, but he had developed a much stronger command of language and no longer sounded like the unschooled adolescent he had been when he first took the throne.

  “While there is never a perfect solution, I believe I have one that will satisfy the spoken claims of the disputants.”

  No one murmured or coughed. They barely breathed. King Griff had a strong and deep voice that carried, but not a single person in the room dared to miss a syllable of his judgment. Most of them had heard him render rulings many times. They had become accustomed to his logic, strangely overlooked by purportedly wiser heads, that solved the most complex of problems in a way that seemed to define justice. Spectators raved about the competence and neutrality of his pronouncements, but Saviar knew that did not always translate to satisfaction for those involved in the conflict.

  “Let us start with the land dispute.” To Saviar’s surprise, King Griff went straight to the heart of the matter. “It appears both parties believe they have strong, historical roots in the area currently referred to as the Fields of Wrath. However, it’s equally clear that sharing the land is not a practical compromise. Erythane has far more important things to do than police one tiny piece of ground in her territory.”

  Humfreet lowered and raised his head once in tacit agreement.

  Griff looked at his Erythanian counterpart. “With the permission of King Humfreet, ruler of Erythane, I intend to grant the Fields of Wrath its sovereignty, thereby relieving Erythane from the burden of protecting, ruling, indulging, and otherwise engaging with this small but troublesome piece of property. As the Renshai have been pardoned from any crimes in this dispute, they will be allowed to return to the area long enough to gather any and all personal property left at the time of their arrests. Béarn and Erythane will oversee the process, assuring a safe and orderly transfer of such portable property, afte
r which time the Fields of Wrath, and its current buildings, will become the sole property of the Paradisian people.”

  Saviar’s heart pounded, but he kept his mouth shut, certain the king would add much more before the proclamation ended. It could not possibly end this way, with the entirety of the land, as well as the homes paid for with Renshai blood, belonging to the Paradisians. And the Renshai, once again, left homeless.

  “As a sovereign territory, it could be renamed and ruled at the discretion of the Paradisians. However, it should be noted that no aid, monetarily or militarily, will come to the Paradisian people from Béarn or Erythane unless and until actions occurring there infringe on the rights of our citizens or endanger our sovereignty or those of our people.”

  Saviar glanced at Perry, trying to discern his reaction without appearing to stare. The Paradisian wore a smile that also revealed uncertainty, stroking his stubble while Erik whispered furiously into his ear.

  King Griff cleared his throat again. His attention went to the opposite side of the table. “There is a piece of Béarnian land along the boundary between our country and Erythane. Currently, it holds a thriving forest, but I’ve often thought of clearing it and now have reason to do so. Once that’s done, it can remain a part of Béarn or I am willing to concede it to Erythane to replace the land lost by the disaffiliation of the Fields of Wrath.”

  King Humfreet made a gesture Saviar did not recognize, but Kedrin surely did. From context, the Renshai guessed Humfreet wanted to hear the entire ruling before making his decision on the matter of which country presided over the newly cleared land.

  Griff signaled agreement before continuing, “The wood from the forest will be used to erect multiple homes and necessary buildings on the freshly cleared land.” He glanced around the gathering. “I am certain that, no matter who presides over the land, all of the people gathered here will happily split any costs given the common goal of restoring peace.”

  Saviar bit back his own smile. King Griff had effectively trapped the Northmen in their own lie. By hiding behind a claim of protecting the Paradisians, rather than their true aim of obliterating the Renshai, the Northmen would have no choice but to assist.

  There were nods all around, though some were far more vigorous than others.

  “Though it will remain a part of Béarn . . .” Griff’s gaze flicked to Humfreet. “. . . or Erythane, this new territory will be home to the Renshai who will become full-fledged citizens of Béarn or Erythane accordingly, entitled to all the same rights and . . .” He added, with emphasis, “. . . protections as any Béarnide or Erythanian. Naturally, the homes and buildings will be built to their specifications.”

  In the wake of the high king’s speech, the room remained just as quiet. Saviar could almost hear the thoughts spinning through every mind as they considered the ramifications that went far beyond the words. The Renshai would lose the Fields of Wrath but would gain a homeland, legitimacy, and the full support of strong allies. It was not the result he would have chosen, but he knew the Renshai could live with the decision.

  Perry shook his head, and Erik’s whispering became an audible hiss. If the two had been alone, the Northman would probably be shouting at his undereducated charge.

  King Griff added one final piece. “One thing I want to make clear to the residents of the newly-independent Fields of Wrath: while neither Erythane nor Béarn will lay claim to or defend your homeland, we will not sit idly by if interlopers whose alliances with us are not solid attempt to usurp sovereignty or place arms and warriors in dangerous proximity to Béarn or Erythane.”

  Saviar could no longer wholly suppress his grin. Once again, Erik had done himself in with his own veiled threat. By stating the Northmen would impose military and trade sanctions against Béarn should the bargaining not go their way, he could hardly object to the king of Béarn characterizing the North as a territory “whose alliances with us are not solid.” Erik had effectively barred the Northlands from assisting the Paradisians with anything other than direct humanitarian aid: food, clothing, money, all things the Northmen had no real interest in providing. Furthermore, Erik could not deny that the ruling had gone their way, as the Paradisians had gotten exactly what they had asked for: the Fields of Wrath, free and clear, and the right to rename it Paradise Plains.

  Philosophers could debate the guileless brilliance of Griff’s decision for years and not catch all of its subtleties, Saviar suspected. The military ramifications alone seemed legion. If the Paradisians or the Northmen went after the Renshai, it would require a direct attack on lands and citizens of the mighty kingdoms of Erythane or Béarn. The Renshai had no reason to attack the Paradisians; however, if it ever became necessary, the Renshai had the full power of the West behind them while the Paradisians had only themselves.

  A frown scored Erik’s features. Perry leaped to his feet with an abbreviated and agitated bow. “Please, Your Majesty.” His homespun accent disappeared; it had been an act. “Can’t we have the brand-new houses and the protection of Erythane or Béarn?”

  Before Griff could answer, Erik broke in. “Your Majesty, with all due respect.” Apparently realizing he was acting inappropriately again, Erik rose and bowed before continuing. “This can hardly be considered fair. While the Paradisians appreciate retaining their homeland, you’ve left them utterly defenseless against a Renshai attack.”

  King Griff stroked his beard, as if in deep consideration. “Captain, are you saying whoever retains the disputed land should have the right and means to defend themselves?”

  “Of course,” Erik shot back. Then, apparently remembering his manners again, he added, “Your Majesty. If not, the Renshai will simply retake Paradise Plains the way they did the first time. With violence.”

  Saviar’s brows winched upward. He wondered if anyone else noticed the blatant hypocrisy. Still, he said nothing, trusting King Griff to handle the situation.

  The king clearly needed no assistance. “Captain Erik, is it your contention that my ruling was one-sided?” There was no malice in the question, only curiosity, which emboldened Erik, though he was still wise enough to criticize the king’s decision in a circumspect manner.

  “Your Majesty, I hope you understand I mean no disrespect when I agree with your statement. The Paradisians do get the land in dispute, but it does them no good if it’s indefensible. Meanwhile, the Renshai get every other advantage: free new homes, full citizenship, and extraordinary protection against a group of people who could never truly menace them.” Saviar noted the conspicuous silence on the real threat to the Renshai: the people of the North. Sandwiched between Erythane and Béarn, granted full citizenship and protection, the Renshai would become entirely safe from the Northmen as well. Not that the Renshai wanted or needed such security.

  Kedrin made an almost imperceptible gesture. Saviar would have missed it had he not happened to glance in Humfreet’s direction. Even then, it caught only the corner of his vision.

  King Griff’s response was a spare nod, and Kedrin rose with another flourishing bow. “Your Majesty, I merely wish to point out that compromise, by its definition, requires both sides to make concessions. The land is the item in dispute. If one side gets the entire prize, the other must receive proper recompense.”

  Erik did not guard his speech with Kedrin as he had the king. “With emphasis on the word ‘proper,’ I maintain that nearly all the advantages go to one side.”

  “The Renshai?” King Griff said, as if guessing.

  “Yes, Your Majesty,” Erik affirmed.

  Griff continued to stroke his beard. “What if we added a condition requiring the new citizens of Béarn or Erythane to relinquish any or all claims to the disputed land?”

  Erik made a dismissive gesture. “A fine gesture, Your Majesty, but ultimately only words. The Renshai do not honor promises as others do.”

  Saviar found his hand on his sword hilt and del
iberately pulled it away. Responding violently to insults, no matter how fallacious and inflammatory, would only vindicate Erik’s slurs.

  King Griff’s brows rose, and his hand left his beard. “The Renshai have always honored their promises to Béarn. Are you suggesting the Renshai would not honor the condition? That they would attack the Fields of Wrath despite it and reclaim that land?”

  “I am, Your Majesty.”

  “But, in the same position, the Northmen and the Paradisians would abide by it?”

  Erik straightened proudly to his full height. “We are men of honor, Your Majesty. We keep our word.” He glared at Saviar. “The world would be a far better place if the Renshai had never existed.”

  Saviar felt certain he could draw and strike Erik’s insolent head from his shoulders before anyone could stop him.

  Apparently reading his mind, Weile leaned in toward Saviar to whisper, “Trust Griff. He knows what he’s doing.”

  Unaware of the exchange, King Griff nodded thoughtfully. “Captain Erik, representative of the peoples of the North for these negotiations, let us consider a fair compromise to be 50% concessions per party. Where would you say we are right now?”

  Erik seemed surprised by the question. “With the relinquish condition, Your Majesty, I’d say we’d moved from 80% in the Renshai’s favor to 75%.” He added quickly, “But that’s still a long way from parity.”

  Saviar suspected that parity, to Erik, meant giving both pieces of ground to the Paradisians and brutally slaughtering every Renshai. He could see Erik’s strategy. Finding a halfway point between Erik’s vision and the current compromise could only work to the disadvantage of the Renshai, placing them in a position that would allow the Northmen to strike in numbers.

  King Griff laced his enormous hands on the tabletop. He bobbed his head, staring at his own fingers for several moments.