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The memories of the Elders had grown weak as time and seasons past.  Like old pastures remembering only faint hoof marks.

	Twelve villages shared the lands from the river to the vast horizon.  All was well and none could recall any serious situations that had not been resolved by the Council of the Villages.  The Council was comprised of twelve women, one from each village, chosen by the “whim of fate”.

	Each situation was assessed in the same manner.  All concerns were heard by The Council of The Twelve Villages.  The Ancients had wearied of battles and so made the solutions simple.  All members of the Council carried a smooth stone.  Their decision made by placing their stone into one of two earthen pots.  Each would walk into the thatched hut alone to do so.  They would then gather with the villagers to “count” the stones in each of the earthen pots.
	
             If the number was even things remained the same, if not those involved were to work out a suitable solution with the help of the Council and the villagers.  It was a fair and fluid system adhered to by all in theory and practice.

	Strangers arrived one day from a village on the edge of the vast horizon.  They were welcomed and allowed to visit all of the twelve villages, share in their bounty and observe the actions of the Council of the Twelve.  Requesting a meeting with the Council they petitioned for entrance into the Council of the Villages.  

	The Council considered their request.  The stones were counted.  Seven in favor, five against.  The Council of the Villages assisted in setting up the “new” village for participation in the Council.  Few had any idea how complicated things would become with the addition of  “the thirteenth woman” for things would never remain the same again.     


John G. Lawless
©10/4/2022
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