“The enemy that we face will give no quarter in this war,” Emperor Marak continued. “If there was ever a time in the history of Khadora for the clans to unite, it is now. If there was ever a time to put aside our differences with our neighbors, both foreign and domestic, it is this moment in time. I have spoken with the Sakovans, the Fakarans, the Qubari, and the Chula. Each and every one of them understands the danger that we are all in. Only in Khadora do I see the petty bickering that has gone on for centuries.”
The chamber grew deathly quiet as the lords realized how angry the Emperor had become over the boundary disputes.
“Before we can join with our neighbors to form a defense against Vand and his evil,” declared the Emperor, “we have to resolve our differences here in Khadora. As these claims to Chula land came across my desk, I wondered how we would ever resolve them. It was you, Lord Padro, who supplied the answer.”
“Me?” balked the Rican lord. “What do you mean?”
“Your desire to use our ancient laws to secure land that you know does not belong to you, awakened me to the solution,” replied the Emperor. “I visited and spoke with the Chula chieftain of the tribe that borders your estate. The lands that you are attempting to claim have never been seeded. They have never been harvested, or cleared, or inhabited by any member of your clan. In short, you have no legal claim to the land other than your word.”
“That should be enough,” retorted Lord Padro. “I am a Khadoran lord, not a savage.”
“There is an ancient Khadoran law that you might not be familiar with,” Emperor Marak stated as he signaled one of his Imperial soldiers. “The law is specifically intended to resolve disputes between neighbors, although it has not been used in hundreds of years.”
Excited whispers tore through the lords as they watched an Imperial soldier wheel out a large cart. Positioned on the cart were the weapons of war. Daggers, short swords, long swords, and two-handed swords were set on the cart in pairs.
“The law, Lord Padro,” continued the Emperor as he walked over to the cart and picked up two maps, “calls for a fight to the death to resolve the differences. These maps represent your claims of land versus the claims stated by Grundar, chieftain of the Sookie tribe,” he said as he handed the maps to the Rican lord. “You will notice that there is a huge discrepancy in the maps. That is what you will be fighting for.”
“Preposterous,” snapped Lord Padro as he started backing away from the Emperor. “I will not fight you for my rightful lands. You have nothing to do with this dispute. My claim is not against the Torak clan. You have no right to interfere.”
“Oh,” Emperor Marak smiled as he shook his head and sent another signal to the Imperial soldiers, “you misunderstand me. I am not challenging you to a fight, Lord Padro. That would be exceedingly unfair to you as I am not a party to the dispute. It is Chief Grundar who has demanded satisfaction under our laws.”
An Imperial soldier opened the door at the rear of the stage. A huge bear of a man walked through, his eyes immediately scanning the contents of the room. The man wore nothing but a loincloth and a necklace of teeth. Despite the Chula’s large size, his skin did not quiver and sag when he walked, but rather flexed solidly as he made his way towards the Emperor and the table of weapons.
“Lord Padro,” smiled the Emperor, “I would like you to meet Grundar, Chieftain of the Sookie tribe. He is your neighbor, and it is his lands that you covet. Choose your weapons, and may the rightful claim prevail.”
Grundar smiled and picked up a heavy two-handed sword as if it were a feather. He twirled the weapon around as only an expert could. Lord Padro’s eyes bulged, and his face paled as he stared at the giant and the sword he carried. He slowly backed away until he was in danger of falling off the stage. Emperor Marak’s hand streaked out and grabbed the Rican lord, helping him away from the edge.
“Careful, Lord Padro,” the Emperor said with a smile. “We don’t want you falling off the stage before your bout begins.”
“I will not fight that thing,” Lord Padro said, his arms shaking visibly. “I refuse. You cannot make me fight him.”
“No, I can’t,” shrugged the Emperor, “but he has asserted his rights under our laws. If you do not fight him, you lose all rights to the disputed lands by default. The choice, however, is entirely yours.”
Lord Padro tried to control his trembling body, but he could not. Amidst the jeers and taunts of the other lords, Lord Padro fled from the stage. The Rican lord did not return to his seat, but continued his flight out of the chamber. Grundar sighed and returned the sword to the table. Emperor Marak waited for the noise to quiet before continuing.
“It is not my intention to humiliate others in this manner,” declared the Emperor, “but the claims that have been made against the Chula are wrong. There are lords, and I am not saying that this applies to all of you, who have taken the opportunity of the formalizing of boundaries as an excuse to expand their holdings at the expense of others who they do not know. While that may indeed be in keeping with the traditions in Khadora, it does nothing to further cooperation with an important ally, an ally that we desperately need in the coming battles.”
The Emperor once again signaled the Imperial soldiers, and they opened the door at the rear of the stage. Chula chieftains marched onto the stage and formed long lines across it. When the door was finally closed, over a hundred Chula chieftains stood upon the stage behind Emperor Marak.
“I doubt that any of the lords in this room have ever met a Chula chieftain before,” the Torak said loudly. “That is a shame, because they have much in common with you. Each of them controls a large tribe and has to tend to the thousands of emergencies that always pop up with a large population. They have to ensure that their people are cared for, that they are fed and clothed, and that they have a safe homeland to prosper in. And they must protect their people from invasions and infringements by their neighbors, just as you lords do.”
The lords spoke softly among themselves. Some tried to guess which Chula was the chieftain of which tribe, while others questioned where the Emperor was going with his speech. Emperor Marak stopped talking until the murmurs subsided.
“It is my firm belief that these border disputes must be ended today,” declared the Emperor. “To that end, I have several suggestions for the lords assembled here today. Each of the Chula chieftains has vowed to seek redress under Khadoran laws to protect their lands, but each has also willingly accepted the prospect of negotiations. So there are several choices available to each of you with a remaining border dispute. You can fight for your land under this ancient law, or you can sit down with a representative of the Lords’ Council and your Chula neighbor and work out a peaceful settlement. I would prefer to see everyone take the second option. There will be enough blood shed in the coming days without spilling any here today.”
“Are there any other options?” shouted a voice from the audience.
Emperor Marak tried to attach a face to the voice, but the lord had not risen so he addressed his remarks to everyone.
“Everyone on this stage is open to any solution that will end this crisis,” declared the Emperor, “but this issue needs to be put behind us. I want resolution of each claim before we leave here. I am willing to stay as long as it takes to get each and every one of the disputes resolved fairly. I would like to make another point that may have escaped some of you lords who have no disputes. This is a rare opportunity for each of you to get to know the Chula in a way that has never been possible before. I urge you to stay for a while today and speak with some of these chieftains. You may find that our ancient hatred of the Chula is unfounded. You may also find that you have new neighbors that are willing to help you with your problems. This is an opportunity, but you must avail yourself of it to make anything out of it. Lord Patel?”