General Kassim gestured for everyone to take their seats at the grand table in the center of the hall. His sharp gaze swept over the assembled acting leaders, ensuring he had their full attention. “Now that we’re all here,” he began, his tone steady but carrying a weight of significance, “I have news that demands immediate discussion.”
He let the pause hang for a moment, adding gravity to his words. “We’ve apprehended two former ministers from the royal court,” Kassim announced, his voice cold and deliberate. “They attempted to escape the kingdom but failed. They’re now in custody, awaiting a decision on their fate.”
The room fell silent, the weight of his words settling like a shroud over the gathered leaders. Badr Riagi’s ears perked up. He kept his expression neutral, though his mind was already racing.
Selina Faraj, the acting mayor of Vashir, leaned forward, her sharp features hardened. “A fair trial is the only reasonable course of action,” she said firmly. “We’re trying to build a new nation—one based on justice, not barbarism.”
Dr. Taha of Itharal nodded in agreement. “I concur. If we start executing people without due process, we’re no better than the regime we just overthrew.”
Khalid Shamir, the mayor of Dunath, let out a snort. “Justice?” he scoffed. “Justice is making them pay for what they did to our people. A public hanging would send a clear message. Let the people see these traitors fall.”
The tension in the room grew thicker as the leaders debated. Some argued for mercy, others for retribution. Meanwhile, Badr sat quietly, his hands steepled under his chin, his mind churning with a sudden, electrifying thought.
This is it.
He straightened in his chair, his voice cutting through the rising chatter. “General,” he began, his tone measured and deliberate, “if I may propose an alternative.”
All eyes turned to him. The room quieted, curious and cautious. Even Kassim seemed intrigued.
“We can have both justice and spectacle,” Badr continued, his voice growing firmer. “Public hanging may send a message, but it’s over in an instant. A trial might show mercy, but it risks alienating those who want vengeance. Instead, I suggest we host a public event—something that will unite the people in both catharsis and celebration.”
Selina raised an eyebrow. “What kind of event?”
Badr allowed himself a faint smile. “Let the accused prove their worth. We put them in the arena against lions. If they survive, they earn their freedom. If they die, then justice is served.”
The room erupted in a mix of gasps, murmurs, and incredulous stares. Khalid let out a booming laugh. “Now that’s an idea! The people would love it.”
Selina’s eyes narrowed, her voice sharp. “This is barbaric, such events were gone years ago.”
“Yet we still have public executions in our system till this day and people go and watch it, we still have duels even now and then, especially between nobles” Badr countered smoothly. “Think about it. A public event like this will draw the attention of every citizen. It will remind them of the power of this new order while giving them a sense of closure. At the same time, it’s a form of justice. The accused are given a chance to fight for their lives. What could be more fair than that?”
Dr. Taha frowned. “And what if they do survive? Are we really prepared to let them walk free after all they’ve done?”
Badr’s smile didn’t falter. “Surviving such a trial would prove their strength and cunning. Perhaps such qualities would make them more useful to the nation alive than dead. And if they die—well, the people will have had their justice.”
Kassim leaned back in his chair, studying Badr with a faint smirk. “It’s bold,” he admitted. “And risky. The people might love it, or it could backfire spectacularly.”
“The people love a show,” Khalid said, nodding. “Give them blood, give them a reason to cheer, and they’ll eat it up.”
Selina shook her head, disgusted. “We’re supposed to be building a society of laws, not savagery.”
Badr leaned forward, his voice low and persuasive. “Selina, we’re not abolishing laws. We’re using this moment to show the people that this new era understands their pain and their anger. Let them vent their rage now, so we can guide them toward a more stable future later. It’s strategy, not savagery.”
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The room fell silent as Kassim weighed the proposal. Finally, he gave a small nod. “We’ll try it,” he said. “If this works, it could solidify the people’s faith in us. But if it backfires, Badr, the consequences will fall on your shoulders.”
Badr inclined his head, his expression calm. “Understood, General.”
The room, still humming with tension, shifted as Badr leaned back slightly in his chair, his calm demeanor contrasting with the palpable unease among the other leaders.
“Now,” he began, his voice steady and calculated, “the real challenge lies in the details of the event. Execution, as always, will determine success or failure.”
He straightened, turning his attention to the group. “The arena next to the palace is the perfect venue. It has the capacity to hold over 25,000 people. Think about what this could mean—a gathering of this scale would not only allow the people to witness justice firsthand, but it would also be an opportunity for the city to come together in a shared moment of catharsis.”
Selina’s gaze sharpened. “Of course,” she said, her tone dripping with suspicion. “You’re conveniently suggesting the capital hosts this event. Let me guess, this was your plan all along.”
Badr met her accusation with a measured smile, refusing to rise to her bait. “Selina, the capital, is the heart of our nation. Its people suffered the most under the old regime, and their pain runs the deepest. Hosting this here isn’t about convenience; it’s about impact. The message needs to be loud, clear, and inescapable.”
The room bristled with renewed tension as Selina stood abruptly, her eyes flashing with defiance. “Protests have already started in my city,” she said, her voice sharp and unyielding. “My people suffered just as much as those in the capital—perhaps even more.”
Badr raised an eyebrow, his tone calm but edged with curiosity. “I thought you were against this sort of event, Selina. Or has your stance changed now?”
Her lips tightened, but she didn’t back down. “This is a trial by combat, is it not? Such a system exists in the Dragon’s Constitution—a recognized form of justice. And before you bring it up, yes, the dragons are far more violent than us or the elves, but their methods have precedent. Good thing they’re secluded across the seas, far from our lands. But regardless of my personal feelings, if we’re going to proceed with something like this, my city should host it.”
The room fell silent for a moment as the leaders absorbed her shift in position. Khalid, never one to stay quiet for long, leaned forward with a sly grin. “Well, isn’t this an interesting twist,” he said, his voice dripping with amusement. “I have an arena in Dunath that holds around 17,000 people. That’s no small number. If we’re talking about where this should happen, my city is more than capable of hosting.”
Badr remained seated, his expression composed but his mind racing. He glanced briefly at General Kassim, who seemed content to let the leaders argue among themselves for now. Turning his attention back to the debate, Badr spoke deliberately, his words measured. “Selina, if you’re invoking the Dragon’s Constitution, then you must also acknowledge the importance of public support in this matter. The capital, as the heart of the kingdom, has the infrastructure and the population to make this event as impactful as it needs to be.”
Selina’s jaw tightened. “Impactful or self-serving, Badr? Don’t pretend this wasn’t your plan from the start.”
Khalid chuckled, his amusement evident. “She’s got a point. You’ve been angling for this from the moment you opened your mouth.”
Badr didn’t flinch. Instead, he turned his calm gaze on Khalid. “And you, Khalid, are quick to offer your city as the venue. I wonder why that might be.”
Khalid leaned back, unbothered by the jab. “Simple. My city could use the financial boost. People traveling in, spending money, filling our inns and markets—it’s a win for everyone.”
Selina crossed her arms, her voice cutting. “That same argument applies to my city. We’re struggling just as much as anyone else, and holding this event could rally my people, give them a sense of unity.”
The room erupted into a flurry of overlapping voices as the leaders began advocating for their respective cities. Dr. Taha, who had remained silent until now, finally raised his hand, his voice calm but firm. “Let’s not lose sight of the bigger picture here. This event is meant to serve justice and bring stability, not create further division among us. We need to decide not just on location but on the purpose and execution of this event.”
General Kassim nodded in agreement, his deep voice commanding attention. “Dr. Taha is right. The location is secondary to ensuring that this event achieves its goal. However,” he added, his gaze shifting to Badr, “the capital does have a unique advantage. Its centrality, its population size, and its symbolism make it the strongest candidate.”
Selina opened her mouth to protest, but Kassim cut her off with a raised hand. “That being said, we’ll need to hear solid plans from all of you before making a final decision. The location must serve the people, not just the ambitions of its leaders.”
The tension in the room simmered but didn’t boil over as Kassim’s words settled over them. Badr leaned back slightly, his mind already working on the next step. “Of course, General,” he said smoothly. “I’ll prepare a detailed proposal outlining how the capital can host this event to benefit the kingdom as a whole.”
Khalid snorted but said nothing, while Selina sat back with a frustrated sigh. The debate wasn’t over, but for now, the advantage seemed to lie with Badr.
As the leaders began to disperse, the undercurrent of competition lingered in the air. Badr left the room with a small, private smile.