Page 125 of Circle of Days
Scagga sneered. “Elders don’t decide. They advise. If I want to gather a band of brave youngsters to go and teach the farmers a lesson, I may do so. And I shall.”
Unfortunately that was true, Ani thought with dismay. Elders had no power to enforce their decisions: they relied on the respect people had for their wisdom. Mostly that worked. But it was not difficult for a blowhard like Scagga to whip up an aggressive fever among young herders.
Ani said: “You might have had the courtesy to tell your fellow elders that you planned to go against our decision, defy us, and undermine our authority.”
“Elders?” Scagga raised his voice so that those around could hear him. “The elders yielded to the farmers eleven midsummers ago, when Troon plowed up the Break.” Ani heard murmurs of agreement. That episode had not been forgotten. At the time, Ani and the other elders had acted for the best, avoiding war. But some people had felt that the herders had been humiliated. “That’s when we should have made war,” Scagga went on. “The farmers have only got more arrogant since.”
“I agree that they’ve become more arrogant.” Ani touched the sharp flint arrowhead carefully. “I don’t think that’s a good enough reason to send our young people to have their flesh torn by arrows like this.”
“Troon said the farmers would slaughter any of our cattle that crossed the Break again.” Scagga raised his voice more, andAni realized he was now speaking mainly for the benefit of the audience around him. “But our beasts must have water, even if we have to fight for it.”
“If fighting would make it rain…”
One of the listeners laughed.
The laugh annoyed Scagga, and he became more belligerent. “We outnumber the farmers. There are ten of us for every one of them. We can’t lose!”
Some of the listeners cheered.
Ani asked her usual question, with the sourness she always felt. “And when we have won, how many of these young folk”—she looked hard at them, meeting their eyes—“how many will bleed to death on the battlefield, screaming in pain and crying for their mothers?” They were taken aback. They had not thought of war that way.
Scagga saw that Ani had scored a point, and he said quickly: “That’s a coward’s question.”
“It’s a mother’s question.”
“Mothers may be cowards.”
Insults of that kind had no effect on Ani. She said reasonably: “We just think that violence should be the last resort, not the first.”
“And I just think we should kill the farmers!” Scagga shouted, and the youngsters cheered. “Kill them all, burn their houses, and return their land to pasture for our herd!” They cheered more.
Ani wanted to howl with frustration. Scagga refused even to think about the consequences of what he proposed, and his supporters seemed not to notice his stupidity. But she was defeated. Dismally, she decided not to argue further. Anything she said nowwould be a cue for Scagga to rant more. She consoled herself with the thought that the issue would not be decided by Scagga and this group of young people. The majority of the herder folk would not be so eager for battle, and might decline to go to war.
She was getting ready to leave when Seft spoke. He had been listening to the argument with a thoughtful look, and now he said: “The herd’s way to the water is blocked by the woods. There is a gap in the woods, called the Break, but Troon now claims it as farmland, so we can’t use it. But we don’t need a war. We just need a new Break.”
Scagga thought he had won the argument, and so became emollient. He said: “Look, I’d be in favor of a peaceful solution, but we tried that, and the farmers refused to cooperate.”
Seft shook his head. “I’m talking about a different solution. The new Break could be in another location. We could clear a strip at the edge of West Wood. Cut down the undergrowth, the bushes and saplings, but leave the big trees—the cattle can walk around them. That would allow for a path twenty paces wide plus a ditch and bank to keep the beasts off the crops. And Troon could hardly object. We would not be stealing his land.”
“No,” said Ani. “But we’d be stealing the woodlanders’ land.”
“It’s a big wood. They’d hardly notice.”
“You’re wrong. The wood is their livelihood. They’d notice if a strip was taken from them. They would be outraged.”
“I suppose so,” Seft conceded. He frowned. “Could we give them something by way of compensation? You could negotiate with Bez.”
Ani nodded. “The prospect of, say, some cows would be a bighelp to them in this drought.” Seft’s idea had the makings of a solution, and her hopes rose. “And perhaps the tribe could afford to lose a narrow strip of woodland.”
Scagga said: “You two aren’t thinking straight. You’re talking about cutting down a mass of vegetation, from the plain all the way down to the riverside. Cutting it is hard enough, but to clear it all away is a huge job. Who do you think is going to do it?”
Ani looked around. “There’s a small army of strong young people right here.” She adopted a challenging tone. “You said you’d support a peaceful solution, Scagga. Did you mean it? Could you take all these youngsters and put them to work clearing a new Break? Could you manage that?”
He hesitated, looked trapped, and said: “Of course I could. We could do it in a few days.”
“That would be something to boast about. You could resolve the dispute without any of these young people getting killed.”
Scagga nodded reluctantly. “Perhaps I could,” he said.
