Guild War

1

Five two-room cabins made of wood, stone, and mud stood in a ring at the edge of a clearing. Ancient trees surrounded the space and stretched for miles in every direction. It was known as Princeps. This was the spot where the Masters of each of the five Guilds had gathered for centuries to discuss their business. Exchange rates, traditions, and new ideas or laws were negotiated in hopes of making Ronaele a better place to live.

A small stone outcropping pushed out of the ground on the western edge of the clearing, between the Fisher and Miner cabins. The mouth of a cave, barely large enough for a person to slip in, was at the center of the stone. The Masters were still in their cabins when a woman in a black cloak emerged from the cave. She had been there as long as any Ronaele resident could remember. She was known only as Lamia. She took slow and steady steps toward the middle of the ring. She muttered under her breath as she went. Lights glowed in the windows of each of the cabins. The men inside awaited her instruction.

A grey, weathered stump marked the center of the ring. It was ten feet across, but no one remembered the tree that had once stood there. A large hole had been bored into the middle of it with five smaller ones matching the layout of the cabins. Lamia used a pair of worn stones to step up onto the stump. Her dull, brown leather boots made no sound as she moved toward the largest hole.

Draco dominantium. Haec collectio benedicere. Educ flamma pace, she said with hands reaching to the skies. She closed her eyes and waited.

The center hole began to glow. Then, the flame shot up in a narrow jet less than a foot in front of her. She did not flinch, but a smile grew across her face.

Come, Masters of the Guilds, she said. The dragon lords have blessed this gathering and brought forth the flame of peace. Let those in attendance respect the lords and honor their fellow Masters. Callus, Farmer Master and Head of the Guild Council, come forth to take your position.

The door to the Farmer cabin opened. A man with a long grey beard emerged. Callus was the eldest of the Masters, which made him Head of the Guild Council. The lamp light from inside the cabin outlined his figure. He gripped his ceremonial scythe in his right hand and walked toward the stump. The Deputy and Junior Masters of his Guild followed behind him. As he reached a seat made of woven corn stalks, a flame emerged from the smaller hole closest to his chair.

The typical order was to continue counterclockwise, so the Farmers were followed by the Herder Master taking his spot in his leather chair. Next came the Woodsmen Master in his intricately carved wooden chair. Then, the Miner Master in his stone chair that had been worn smooth over the centuries. Finally, the Fisher Master in his hammock-like chair made from ancient fishing nets.

Once they were all seated, the woman in the black cloak bowed her head and smiled. Before walking back to her cave, she said, Gratias ago tibi, draco dominantium.

The men waited for her to magically slip down into the cave. Then the Farmer Master, as Head of the Guild Council stood up. His hair was grey, matching his beard, but it was cut short. His eyes were squinted from working in the sun for many years, although the only light at the meeting was the flame before him. He wore a woolen shirt embroidered with a scythe and rough pants designed to resist the tug of crops while walking through the fields.

Welcome, brothers! he said after getting to his feet. He moved a little slower than the rest because he was almost twenty years older than the Woodsmen Master, who was next closest in age. He was the last of his generation of Masters and had served as a Farmer Master for most of his life. I want to thank you all for coming for our seasonal meeting. As you all know, this is our time to discuss business while observing our rules of order and keeping balance in the land of Ronaele. We have made great advancements in the recent years that I never would have imagined twenty years ago. I congratulate each of you for helping make these things possible.

The Deputy and Junior Masters of the Farmers led the group in a round of applause. The clapping lasted less than ten seconds before dying off. It was clear that each of the Masters had things on their minds and were ready to get down to business. Many of the younger Masters thought this tradition could be set aside in favor of communicating directly with riders carrying messages. They all knew that would not happen as long as Callus led the Council.

With an eye to the past, we must continue looking forward, Callus said, rubbing his fingers across his bearded chin while he spoke. Each of us has at least one proposition to be considered by the Council, so I propose that we begin immediately. If our discussions go beyond the twenty-third hour, we will adjourn for the night. All in favor?

Aye, came as a dull agreement from the other four Masters.

Opposed? Callus said and got silence in response. The ayes have it, so let’s begin. As Head of the Guild Council, I will present the first item. We, the Farmers, have pushed our plantings to our very borders. The demand from the other Guilds has grown and we need more space. We have studied the maps and considered all options. The Fisher land to the east is dry and has never been tilled. It would take many years to make it fruitful. The Miner land is mostly a thin layer of dirt over stone. The Woodsmen land is covered with trees. So, the only reasonable and immediate solution is to acquire land from the Herders.

The Herder Master watched Callus closely. He had piercing blue eyes and dark skin. His thick, black hair hung down past his shoulders and his beard was braided into three strands.

I propose that the boundaries between the Farmers and Herders be redrawn to give us the land between the Upper Sea and Lake Auctor.

Give?! the Herder Master said, demanding explanation.

Master Equus, Callus said after turning right to face him, please respect the order of the meeting. I was not done with my proposal. There will be time for discussion.

These rules are antiquated and the borders between our lands have stood for centuries!

This is your first warning, Callus said. Proper decorum must be maintained if we are to accomplish anything.

Equus sat silently, but the fury in his eyes was hard to miss. The Deputy and Junior Masters of the Herders stood behind and to either side of his chair. He held up his left hand to give them pause when he heard the Junior’s feet shuffle.

Thank you, Equus. Now, the land I mentioned would start at the north bank of Lake Auctor, leaving a thirty-mile access to the lake for the Herders. It would then go due north to the Upper Sea. This would add the needed land for the Farmers to continue to meet demands. The crops raised on this new land would be given to the Herders as payment for the next twenty years, at which time the debt would be considered paid in full, Callus explained. Now, the floor is open for discussion.

If we were to agree to this, how will we know if we are getting all the grain grown on that land?

The Farmers have proven themselves trustworthy, just like the rest of the Guilds. It would be a deal based on faith.

We get your words and you get our land, then?

Master Equus…

If I might interject, the Woodsmen Master said, this is a major decision and should be given a fair time to be considered. Changing the borders is something that has never happened. They were established long ago. Let’s table this discussion until we’ve all had time to think about it. We would be establishing a powerful precedent.

I agree with Master Nemus, Minutor, head of the Miners, said. I propose tabling this discussion.

Callus frowned, but the matter had been called to a vote.

All in favor of tabling the matter?

Aye, came from the mouths of Minutor, Nemus, and Squalus, Master of the Fishers Guild.

Opposed? Aye, Callus said, answering his own question. Equus leaned back and crossed his arms, abstaining from the vote. The Council has spoken. Let’s move to the next discussion. Squalus?

Thank you, Callus, the Fisher Master said. Squalus had blonde hair that fell just above his shoulders. His brown eyes showed no emotion and he was known for being firm in discussions, although he was the youngest member of the Council. We are facing growing demand, like the Farmers. We do not need more land and my proposal will not directly affect any other Guilds. I am requesting permission to expand our fishing area to the north, wrapping around the east side of Dragon Isle, yet not extending into the open ocean.

Any discussion on this? Callus asked, having shifted back to his neutral leader role. He waited a few moments. Seeing none, I’ll call the vote.

In favor?

Aye, was the consensus.

Anything else from the Fishers?

Not at this time, Squalus said with a smile and sat back in his seat.

Master Minutor?

The Miners have only one small piece of business, Minutor said. His arms were strong and he flexed them as he talked. Like most Miners, he was short in stature, but had the attitude to make up for it. I recognize that we normally produce the stone for the continent, but we have stumbled upon a special gem in one of our mines that is unlike anything we have ever seen. Here is a sample.

Minutor stood from his chair and took three steps toward the great, greyed stump. He placed a gem that sparkled in the firelight at the edge nearest his seat. The other leaned forward to have a better look.

We do not know much about this discovery. This could be a small pocket that is solitary or it could be the beginning of something much bigger. We do not know at this point. Having said that, we move that this gem be excluded from the normal exchange rates for stones and gems until we know how much effort it will take to harvest and whether it is readily available or not.

The floor is open, Callus said.

How much of this gem have you recovered? Squalus asked.

Barely enough to put a few pounds in each of our pockets.

Then, Squalus said, I think we should allow this break from the exchange rates until the Miners know more. If my people found a rare fish, I would want more time to research its availability before setting a price.

I agree, Equus said. I call the vote on this matter.

The vote has been called, Callus said. All in favor say ‘Aye’.

Aye, said all five Masters.

The measure carries. Please bring your findings to the next seasonal meeting, Master Minutor.

We will, Master Callus. We have no further business for the Council.

Then we move on to the Woodsmen. Master Nemus?

The Woodsmen have nothing for the Council at this time.

Oh? My secretary said each Guild had matters to discuss.

We wanted to keep the option open, but have since decided against presenting.

So be it, Callus said. Herders?

Setting aside the land debate? Equus asked.

Yes, Callus said, suddenly sounding course.

The Herders have no business other than suggesting that we begin further research into the Death Pass. It is possible there is usable territory beyond those arid lands.

Tradition says we shall not pass through those lands, Callus said. This particular matter must be taken up with Lamia, the Lady of the Woods, before further discussion. She will pray to the overlords for guidance.

Do we really believe that there are dragons governing our lands? Equus asked.

Hush now! Callus said. Doubt is acceptable, but blasphemy is not. We will pass this question to the Lady.

Fine, Equus said. Then the only business remaining is the change of borders.

It is, Callus said.

I believe we voted to table the matter, Nemus said.

Indeed, Callus replied.

Then, I further move that the matter be tabled until the next seasonal meeting. This will give us time to truly contemplate the matter.

Callus sighed and studied the younger Masters’ face. He did not like the idea of waiting another quarter of a year, but it seemed inevitable. Each of the other four Masters looked back at him.

It is moved, Callus said. All in favor?

Aye, said the other four Masters.

The Farmers had hoped for a resolution at this meeting, but it is clear that the will of the Council stands elsewhere. It is approved that we will table the discussion of redrawing the borders. Having completed all business, the Council is hereby adjourned. Thank you all for your time and commitment, Callus said. We will reconvene in three months. May the Overlords bless you.

2

Callus rode back into the seat of the Farmer Guild, Agricola, on the afternoon after adjourning the Guild Council. He settled into his home, the large villa at the center of the city. Although much had changed over the past twenty years, Callus still accepted the benefits of the productivity of his Guild.

Callus! called a Farmer as they knocked on the door of the Master’s villa. Callus, we want a meeting with you, Master!

Callus had enjoyed a meal before making his way up to the room that served as his office on the second floor. He looked down at the journal he kept his Council notes in, which was still devoid of comments from the most recent meeting. He always gave a summary to those interested after returning, but it was usually a day or two after he got back. The fact they were demanding a meeting within hours gave him pause and he tried to think about what his people would want to talk about.

I’m coming. Please be patient, the Master said as he went downstairs to open the door. He swung it open with a broad sweep of his left arm. Three men stood on the stone pad in front of his door. Each had on dirt-covered work clothes and the creases in their faces had lines of dust in them. They all looked angry. How can I help you?

My name is Lutum and we want to know what the new exchange rates will be, said the man on the right. He was the shortest of the three, but still a few inches taller than Callus.

I will call a meeting for all to attend that will cover the results of the Council meeting.

Did you get the rates increased or not? the second Farmer, Sordes, said. He had his arms crossed over his broad chest and looked down his long, hooked nose at Callus.

Gentlemen, Callus said, raising his hands in an attempt at diffusing their frustration, tradition says that…

We don’t care about tradition! Caenum, the final Farmer, said as he slapped Callus’ hands away. We care about getting fair pay for our work. There is less and less food for each of our families. This cannot continue!

I understand your concerns…

I don’t think you do, Caenum continued. This house is the biggest in the Guild. You have servants and never have to worry about food.

I assure you that I have plenty to worry about from the time I wake until I fall asleep, Callus said, now getting visibly upset. I know you boys are frustrated, but I am Farmer Master and you will respect my position.

I didn’t vote for you, Lutum said.

I have worked my way up from Junior to Deputy to Master. That is the way the Guild system works and has for hundreds of years. I suggest you all spend more time studying and less drinking.

You don’t know us, Sordes said, taking a step toward Callus. What we do with our time shouldn’t concern you. Fact is, if you had any idea what the normal day looks like for us, you’d be grateful. That’s not how things are for a Master, though, are they? We’re just your slaves to make your house a little fancier each year.

I will not stand for this kind of talk. The meeting will be held at seven tonight, the Master said and slammed the door. The three men heard the heavy bolt fall inside and they looked to each other.

What’s next? Lutum asked.

We go to the meeting, Caenum said. If he won’t answer our questions, then we move on with our plan.

The other two agreed. They stomped some mud off their boots into a pile outside the Master’s door. As they walked away, the Master looked down on them from the window of his office. They did not see his frown and disgust for them.

As usual, the debriefing meeting was not well attended. After less than a half hour of discussion, Callus called for