Conditions
Location: Islet off the main island
Time: Late morning on Day 25, Month 2, Turn 3
Players: Issa, Diya, J'lor, Cassiel, Oshisyth, Nenuith, Vellath, Chiavelth
Scene: Issa returns to offer a safe place for Cassiel to speak. Cassiel is less than entralled.
Not many will notice if a third wing greenrider slips away from the Weyr during the dinner hour, save for the few who know that this trip in particular was more than just a jaunt to seek a home-cooked meal from some distant relatives in a distant cothold. Though it's quite distant indeed, there will be no meal, not even family strictly speaking. Just another clandestine meeting on that tropical island divided by a ribbon of water. Oshisyth's sudden mindtouch is as always a surprise, a surprise that rambles a bit this time. We've come again, and we need to talk. All of us. The greenrider, too. The same place, of course, she says, an image of the tall grass field and vaguely remembered mud slipped in quickly, we'll be waiting. We only have an hour, hurry, hurry. And, true to her word, the little green waits dutifully next to her rider in among the tall grass, a section of higher ground chosen so that, while a faint, misting rain falls around them, the miring mud proves less of a problem than before. Issa waits quietly, thoughtful, arms crossed as she remains perched on the forearm of her dragon, at least until the others have landed.
Moments after the calls go out, Nenuith steps up to her ledge and drops off, swinging easily into a fast glide. When she reaches the hill Issa and Oshisyth have chosen, she backwings sharply to check her speed and drops into a dainty landing not a length away from her daughter. Diya has had the foresight to wear sandals this time, and they slap on the ground when she slides down from her dragon. "Issa," she greets, striding towards her former assistant. Nenuith cranes her head around to watch the meeting, uttering a quick croon before she turns to watch the skies for Vellath and Chiavelth.
Dinner there is late morning here, and that thankfully has the weyrlings busy with chores and strap making. J'lor was seated in the clearing, helping one of the younger boys with a somewhat tricky stitch, when Vellath lifts his head and peers off towards the beach. J'lor blinks down at the straps in his hands. "E'ber, why don't you ask one of the others to help you the rest of the way. I'll be back shortly." He stands, bare feet squishing as he climbs onto Vellath and they launch upwards and over towards the usual meeting place. Oshisyth's has come again, Vellath informs his favorite green. You and yours must come too. We will be here. The image given from the mainland green is broadcast to the one in exile.
Chiavelth is the last to arrive, circling the clearing a full circuit before finally winging down, her landing still a cautious distance from the others. Cassiel's dismount is equally slow and wary, and the greenrider stays at that distance with her dragon, arms crossed loosely over her chest as she leans against the green's shoulder. As cautious as a spit-dog who's been given one too many kicks, she refuses to come closer yet.
"Diya," Issa greets in return, hopping down from the electric green forearm that serves as her perch. Since her mentor is the first to touch down, there's little hesitation about sweeping the goldrider up into a swift, firm hug that parts halfway only when the wingbeats of the blue are heard. And so that's the image that J'lor and Cassiel both will be met with, one of Issa's arms thrown in an easy half embrace around Diya's waist. Accumulated water droplets are brushed away from her brow once the other two are settled, however far away, and then they each get a nodded greeting of their own. "J'lor," she says, more formal than the emotion that filled Diya's name, "Cassiel." Pale blue eyes linger on the wary greenrider, lips lifted into a sympathy-smoothed smile though her eyes tense lightly at the sight. "We have a meeting arranged." And so it's back to business, her arm pulling slowly away from Diya and crossing across her midsection again along with the other one, though she keeps the close proximity.
The bluerider slides down from Vellath who settles where he lands, his eyes resting on Chiavelth. "Issa," he offers along with a nod. But, instead of moving towards the goldrider and her companion, he heads towards Cassiel. One brow arches, one hand extends to the greenrider, palm up, and there he waits. "Nothing happens without your word. I promise."
Diya leaves her arm around the shorter woman long enough to give her a second reassuring squeeze before it's time for business and she, too, draws away. She watches Cassiel, noting her reluctance to come forward, with an odd, sympathetic wriggle in her lips. It's to J'lor she looks, though, letting him deal with the greenrider he knows best.
Cassiel doesn't look as though she appreciates J'lor's gesture; her brows lower, furrowing, accusing as she looks to the hand. Unable to refuse the invitation without looking childish or frightened, she leaves her arms crossed over her chest as she pushes off of Chiavelth's shoulder and walks past J'lor towards the other two, though she still maintains her distance from them, making the division between them and herself clear in her posture. "Clear skies," she says grudgingly.
"Not likely, it seems," Issa responds, pausing in her study of the other greenrider's face to spare an upward sweeping glance at the cloud-hung sky that sprinkles a mist down on them, lips lightly smiling no longer in sympathy but with veiled amusement. "But I'll make do," she adds, smoothing a damp, wayward curl behind her ears before tucking her hand back into crossed arms, almost mirroring Cassiel's posture herself. Her gaze swings across to Diya and then J'lor, brief glances that ultimately end up focusing on Cassiel again. "Have you decided?" she asks simply.
Blue eyes dip down to J'lor's offered hand when Cassiel walks by it, foregoing any further study of the greenrider to watch how this bluerider responds. Diya leaves her head at a slight tilt, curling up the corners of her lips to have an understanding smile ready should he look back at her. He only has a moment to do so before Diya becomes aware of Issa's sweeping glance and returns to the immediate question of Cassiel's response.
The empty hand hangs for a moment before J'lor pushes it into his pocket and he turns to follow after Cassiel. His expression is mostly neutral when he glances towards Diya, and his picks a place somewhere between the line Cassiel's body language has drawn and where Issa rests. It is in this middle space that he stands, feet bare, to cant his head to the side. "Perhaps, Issa, if you might state what it is you are proposing, we might be better able to decide?" The last word tips upwards, making the whole sentence a question. His dark eyes flick from Issa to Cassiel, one brow again lifted in silent query.
"Do you have assurances of my safety?" Cassiel asks in return, arching a pale brow sharply. She flicks a glance to J'lor for his more diplomatic phrasing, then lets out a long, measured breath. When she straightens, there's a glimpse of something more polished beneath the ragged, exile exterior, some long-neglected art of presence. "I can't go back to the mainland right now," she explains in more measured tones. "I didn't want to go to pick up those boys, and I didn't want to go to take them back. But I did. And what I got for my trouble was...unpleasant, shall we say. Unpleasant, but not unexpected. Without some assurance that the same won't happen at someone else's hands, I won't go back. Not under cover of darkness, to be seen as some underhanded exile. I'll go back openly, under protection, or not at all."
The word 'unexpected' has Issa's jaw clenching under the otherwise neutrally smiling expression, a moment's hesitation spared to smooth the unwanted tension after Cassiel's done speaking before she responds. "I have assurances," she says first, solemnity erasing all hints of earlier lightness in her voice, but adds afterward, "but only my word on my intentions, the intentions of those who are involved, those who will be present. It's the best I can offer in a situation like this." Oshisyth peeks into the minds of the dragons, offering to them all, though her hesitance is palpable with the other green, Nenuith can press us, if you like. Issa continues, keeping her gaze steady on the other greenrider, her hanging pause, a mere missed beat, the only evidence she gives that she was included in the decision behind her dragon's offer. "The whole point of this arrangement is your safety," she points out, "as well as the safety of any others... if they're caught." Her eyes move to J'lor and stay there, lips picking up a fleeting curve before she says, "I'll get to the plan. In full detail, I promise. But I want to make sure that you understand what we mean by doing this." And then she looks back to Cassiel. "To make sure you know you can trust us. Trust me."
Green takes over the whirl in Nenuith's eyes, grown fast at that suggestion. A slight turn of her head brings every dragon in range of her faceted eyes, turning their angled reflections blue and green regardless of their real hue. "If you like," Diya repeats, giving verbal confirmation of the words passed onto her by her dragon, who huffs quietly.
The bluerider's lips are pressed thin as Vellath relays the offer, but if any will ask for such a thing, it will not be him. Issa is given his attention and a small nod, but then J'lor looks, once more, to Cassiel.
"Whose support do you have? What percentage of the Council?" Cassiel asks, tipping her head to one side. "Where will we meet, and even having Nenuith press your green - assuming I trusted Nenuith - does me little good if whoever has assured you of my safety is working with other plans behind /your/ back. It wouldn't be the first time someone abused a connection to us," she notes cooly, turning a rather pointed gaze on Diya. "To trap us." She holds that gaze for a long moment, then turns back to Issa. "Neutral ground," she offers. "There's a," her lips twitch in a sardonic smile, "Vast chain of islands this side of the planet. I'll meet your people on one of them."
Calm and composed still, Issa meets Cassiel's questioning with an evenly cool voice straight from the northern winds of the Reaches. "Technically, I suppose we have one-sixth of the Council. But it's not that official. We're working more or less alone. Roa and I were the ones with the plan from the beginning, we wanted S'lien crushed." The vehemence in her voice rises up suddenly, a brief flash of fire within the ice that fades soon after. "We have a shaky case at best without you. Roa only recently talked with the Masterharper. He's agreed to a trial only if we can furnish a victim testimony. He's the only official support to back us, besides High Reaches' leadership, and then just indirectly. I'm going to be completely honest with you," she says, her voice mirroring the drop into further frankness, "I can't speak for the Masterharper or the Master that would handle your case. But everyone else I will personally vouch for. I'm trusting them with my life as we speak." Intent eyes and a pause make sure that comment lands before she continues. "We can," she concedes with a nod, eyes falling to the ground very briefly, "negotiate the specifics of the meeting. Of course. I'd ask that you keep in mind, though, that our own safety is also at risk," says the greenrider currently braving the possibility of being caught by someone like S'lien herself.
For reasons of her own, the beginnings of a frown are forming on Diya's features when Cassiel throws her that pointed look. The goldrider cools her expression to meet that gaze, lifting her chin and her brow in tandem. She holds her ground, then, but she makes no effort to advance a defense, though Nenuith puts in a quiet grumble.
J'lor is, for the most part, keeping himself out of this part of the discussion. It is left to Cassiel. His brows do lift, just faintly, at the mention of the Masterharper. "Kazimir would come himself?" He tries to keep the question blank, but it comes out as just slightly skeptical. Then to Chiavelth's rider he notes, "I do not know how we can arrive openly and demand they come to the islands at the same time."
"He is," Issa answers quickly, decidedly. "We've arranged a meeting time and place that he's confirmed."
"The Masterharper and the shaky, brand new leadership of High Reaches Weyr." Cassiel's tone is flat, though her brow is arched high. "You want me to stake my life and Chiavelth's on what is looking increasingly like a secret trip to the mainland - illegal, mind you - to confess to two illegal trips to the mainland to a man who may or may not be inclined to let me go afterwards, and may or may not be able to do anything to /get/ me free even if he /does/ decide that I ought to be let go, rather than held for further trial." She shakes her head, turning away with a paced step, turning back. "You can't use my testimony to do whatever it is you think you'll be able to do to a Weyrleader without punishing me as well. It won't hold up. Kazimir should know that, he knows law. You have the word of a criminal against Pern's golden boy. Do the math, greenrider." Frustrated, she drags a hand over her hair. "The Masterharper and the leadership of High Reaches Weyr, and you think you can guarantee the safety of an exile?" she asks, sounding dismayed.
"You can twist it any way you like," Issa answers evenly, seemingly unaffected by Cassiel's venting frustrations. "But it is what it is. And it is the only way we have a chance of punishing S'lien for what he did to you. I realize what it must look like to you. But I have spent /months/," and then that fire recently buried flares up again, "looking for a way to pin that snake. Believe me, you're it." A shrug for the finality of that word and then she moves on. "The secrecy is protection in itself. You'll between to the location," kept purposefully vague just now, "give testimony to the few there, and between back here." One hand slips out of the tightly crossed arms to jab a finger at the muddy ground they stand on. "We have a gold dragon to enforce that. Even further if it's within High Reaches territory." Let's just slip that in, for good measure. "I have an idea that will perhaps make it safer for you to travel to the mainland, but you won't like it." Of this she's certain, pinning Cassiel with her stare still. "Should I describe what Roa has arranged, or would you like to reject it without bothering?" Is that a subtle undertone of sass? Ignore it. Issa slides a glance sideways to Diya, begging she overlook that slip. She passes it off as a mere plea for permission, though, her eyes turning to J'lor to glean his answer as well.
Diya does not return the look, but her hand lifts towards Issa, a gentling motion written into the splay of her fingers. "Kazimir is stubborn, but not dishonest," she remarks. "He knows the law better than any of us here, and if he thinks it possible to punish S'lien for his crimes, he does not do so to entrap you. Issa says you are the key to his case. Let him tell you what that case is, and if you still don't trust it, then don't become his key." Her thin shoulders lift in a slow shrug, the hand she waved at Issa curling back in towards her stomach. "As I gather, we are having this meeting to arrange that one. Let us do that, if we are going to, and not attempt to guess the Masterharper's case without the Masterharper."
The bluerider's eyes flick from Cassiel to Issa to Diya as each one speaks in turn. If there is any irony that once again he plots to create clandestine meeting on High Reaches ground to help his people, it only shows in a faint and mirthless smile that briefly curls his lips. "She's right, Cassiel. We trust them or we don't. We risk it or we don't. I...would like to hear what she proposes. Might we?"
Cassiel settles a long, hard gaze on Issa, Diya's words flatly ignored. "Will you fight for my freedom?" she asks in a low, intense voice. "If I take myself and Chiavelth to High Reaches, to wherever this meeting will be, will you fight if I'm betrayed? If I get to this meeting and Nenuith's rider decides once again that we're worth her price of admission into the upper echelons of leadership, if Roa-" She stops, holding a hand over her eyes and turning away again. "Just Roa and the Masterharper. No one else. If I see another body or another dragon, we're back here before you can blink."
"I'm risking my life to bring you, why wouldn't I do the same to bring you back?" Issa questions, ignoring the mist that clings to her lashes to convey her sincerity in a steady gaze. "But there's... we'll need witnesses and... let me explain it," she swiftly states, brushing over the mild hesitations with a frown that drops faintly and disappears again. Her feet shift on the ground, boots finding, if not better, then new purchase. With a nod to J'lor and Cassiel both, she begins. "Exactly one sevenday from now is when the meeting is set, in a cothold in a sparser region of the Reaches-- days travel from anywhere by foot. Belongs to Miniyal's," another nod to J'lor, eyes searching out recognition, "great uncle, Clery. Old uncle, harmless. The plan includes six people. Seven at most. The leaders of Reaches, Kazimir and his Master, and two healers. To treat any injuries that may have escaped notice as well as to look for medical evidence of your torture. That's what Roa specified." And, if the greenrider does /her/ math, that's six. The seventh comes next. "I have in mind an addition that could not only make this trip look less... illegal and even prevent, like you said, further trials in regards to the boys. But, you won't like it," she repeats, "I wouldn't myself. But hear it out." She draws out a bracing pause for the facet she knows will bring protest then continues with quiet confidence unmarred by hesitation. "To make it seem as if this is a legal summons-- which it is not," this she emphasizes with firm voice and gaze both, "to the rest of Pern, we would need an escort. Preferably one of the original riders that carried the exiles. Preferably from Telgar." Whether protests have made themselves known at this time or not, she holds a flat-palmed hand up to quiet them. "If Telgar is involved in the investigation against its own Weyrleader, we're more likely to strip S'lien of his knot, more likely to keep him powerless after. If it /seems/ like you are being brought as a prisoner, people are less likely to kick up a fuss about exiles being able to show up on the mainland without warning. It will serve to better keep past actions buried and keep further attention from focusing on the island itself. You deliver your statement, answer whatever questions you choose, and between back here; all as quick as it can be done. If a trial comes out of it, we'll confront how to handle that trip when it comes." Her hand drops then, a starting flag for the protests it's held off until now. Now she's ready for the barrage.
If there are any protests, they are not for Diya to make. The goldrider crosses her arms over her chest and listens intently, but with no hint of a response on her face; it's the same empty but receptive stare that she turns on J'lor and, mostly, Cassiel when the explanation finishes.
The bluerider was listening with quiet interest. He even nodded a couple times...until the business with a Telgari escort came about. J'lor sucks in a breath to say something, but Issa's hand stays him. It is not until she falls quiet that he speaks. "The only ones from Telgar that transported us were the weyrwoman and weyrleader. Cellena wouldn't dare come near us, now. And -he- is not welcome to."
"Roa. The Masterharper. Two healers. That's it, or you can find another way to deal with him. You came here dangling some sort of hope at me, and all you have is a single craftmaster and a single Weyr for support," Cassiel says tightly. "I'm not risking my life on your inability to properly lay the groundwork for a /real/ case. If you want me to meet someone now, it will be Roa, the Masterharper, and two healers. No other dragons and no other people. If you want anything other than that, come back when you've got two more Weyrs, at /least/ four Lord Holders, and another three Craftmasters." With that, she turns, shaking her head to J'lor with evident disappointment before stalking back to Chiavelth. The green obligingly lowers her shoulder for her rider to mount, and the pair depart.
Issa has the composure not to look away when the expected protests, indeed, fall on her ears; she takes them in stride, listening patiently to first J'lor's and then Cassiel's. But when the greenrider turns to mount and leave, Issa drops her eyes to the ground. She waits until the green's airborne, at betweening altitude, to speak again. But when she does speak, it's much more stilted than before, troubled by frustration that breaks through her masking efforts. "This is a new precedent we'd be setting," she tells J'lor, "we can't expect..." Realizing the sound of her own voice she stops and stares out across the field at the water in the distance. Seconds later she utters a much more controlled, "I'm sorry," though whether it's directed at Diya or J'lor is debatable as her eyes remain unfocused and distant.
Diya sneaks a hand out to nudge the back of Issa's, a comforting touch that goes no further lest it interfere with the controlled posture she's adopted. "She's been through a great deal," the goldrider notes softly. "We can't expect her to put trust in Northern promises so quickly." She flicks a quick glance at J'lor, raising an eyebrow just the smallest bit, for just the smallest second, before her level blue gaze returns to Issa.
"No," J'lor sighs, his own attention on the little green vanishing into the distance, "of course we can't. She's looking for excuses. Reasons not to go." His other hand is jammed into his pocket as he turns back to Issa and Diya. "But the other request seems possible. Roa, Kazimir and your healers. That could be arranged, could it not?"
"I know. I know," Issa responds vacantly to Diya before stirring from whatever reverie held her in that stare. Her eyes flick over to J'lor and linger on his face for a moment after he asks his question. "Possible," she concedes quietly, control over her voice regained, "but far from ideal. Kazimir specified someone in particular, it seemed important. Ysid-something." Far more flustered than her even tone would suggest, if she's forgetting names. A hand lifts to flutter and whip the air with her fingers briefly before it rests on her arm again. "The Weyrleader might be convinced to stay behind, but that leaves us with only one influential witness. If we had an escort..." This she appeals to Diya now, counting J'lor as a lost cause. With a shake of her head, she adds just this, "Without an escort it leaves /all/ of us open to later attacks."
Those words raise Diya's brow, a tilt angled into the carriage of her head. Attacks? Her eyes slide back to J'lor, whom she does not seem to consider a lost cause just yet, and question his expression for a moment more before she answers. "Kazimir agreed to take this case. Let him agree to take the responsibility for summoning her. He can do without his Ysid-something, or he can do his own bargaining." She twists up a smile, but it's a wry one, and resigned.
"Ysidro," J'lor informs them both, his hands slipping from his pockets to cross over his chest. "I remember him. He was assigned to our defense. He took it seriously. I think, with a little time, I can convince her to allow him. An escort..." the bluerider shakes his head, "less likely, and I don't...it's complicated. I think a weyrleader's presence would likely keep us safer, rather than elevate the danger, but that is on the supposition that he would be there -for- our protection. It is a supposition I would allow, even if Cassiel will not. Yet."
A puffed breath of amusement escapes Issa unchecked for the thought of Kazimir himself descending to the island to bargain with the same trio of riders, her lips twisting up into a smile as well, but a brief one. "The defense will use it against her, if she comes alone," she murmurs, almost to herself, "and maybe another prosecution later. Worse, maybe." But the uttering of that name she flubbed draws her out of the exchange with Diya and she turns back to J'lor with a raised brow. Her lips form a tiny, silent, 'oh' as she connects the pronounced name with its spelling-- passages, mentions, footnotes in books she's read. "I'm not even sure of him," she admits. "Roa's insistence. I'll try and talk her out of bringing him. If you'll, please, try and talk to her about the escort. I swear on my life and the life of my dragon that the only reason is I honestly believe it will make things smoother, here and on the mainland." Conviction swells in her words, quieting by the time she gets to saying, "A trustworthy Telgari rider, at the very least. Of Roa's choosing."
Diya raises a brow when she hears Ysidro's name, though her reaction doesn't show any of the familiarity that is triggered in Issa. "If she cannot be convinced," the goldrider reflects, "we will have no way of telling you." Her long, slim fingers turn over elegantly. "She may simply not appear, and the illustrious honor guard you've assembled for her will be left to twiddle their thumbs. Be aware of this, as you make arrangements."
The bluerider closes his eyes, one hand pulling free of his pocket to scrub at his face. "You don't know what you're asking of me, Issa," he mutters before the hand drops. "She won't be coming to the mainland alone, but I understand what you mean. I'll try. I cannot promise. Why can't Roa be an escort? Or R'vain?"
"I'll come back. A few days. A shorter meeting, smaller. Doesn't need to be all of us. Be ready with compromises, alternate plans, anything, and we'll do the same. We can decide something more concrete then, postpone if we need to." The plan sweeps out of Issa's mouth almost without thinking, impulse translated into actual words without the trouble of a middle man. She turns to face J'lor with a slow nod, considering. "They would do, if nothing else. An escort keeps you safe. A Telgari escort keeps Roa and I safe. A Telgari involved lessens the burden of explaining how we knew in the first place that the so-called help he was giving an Istan rider wasn't anything of the sort. Keeps Reaches safe, if it's Telgar ousting its own Weyrleader." With a sigh, she concedes even more. "We can find another way, though, if absolutely necessary."
Diya welcomes the idea of another meeting with a simple nod, but from there on it's J'lor's ball, and she watches the bluerider with silent interest. Every repetition of Telgar hoists her eyebrow a fraction higher.
He sighs softly and nods. "It's what we'll have to do, then. I would keep you and Roa safe, but Cassiel...she needs to step forward. If Telgar's participation negates that, we cannot have it." J'lor takes a few steps backwards and towards his waiting blue.
Already watching J'lor carefully, Issa notes those few retreating steps peripherally and nods her head, stirring from her stiff posture almost as if she's been dismissed. "I understand," she tells him, quietly sincere, offering a jerked nod. "We'll work around it. Three days." It's a reminder for J'lor, but as she turns to Diya, the same words seem almost a promise, and she offers another tight half hug.
Diya brings her other arm around to turn that half hug into a full one. "We appreciate the risks you take, coming here," she tells the young greenrider. She steps back, holding one hand on Issa's shoulder to keep her out at arm's length when she confirms, "Three days." A look over her shoulder finds J'lor retreating and raises a brow for his confirmation, but having already given hers she steps back to stand at Nenuith's shoulder.
The bluerider nods. "I'll have answers for you then, one way or the other," he agrees. "Thank you. Thank her, too. We'll speak again, soon." Then he's climbing up onto Vellath, leaving muddy footprints on his lifemate's hide.
Issa ends the exchange with a simple nod and soon she's spreading muddy footprints too, not only across green hide, but on her straps as well. Oshisyth waits, time enough to spare in the hour allotted for this trip in order for the green to, respectfully, be the last to leave.
Diya does not make her stay long, although from her perspective the green will notice the thoughtful frown that follows her rider's retreating back. Of course, with Nenuith placidly watching Oshisyth, whether the stare is observed or not doesn't seem much of an issue to Diya. She turns to climb up Nenuith's tall shoulder, and waves farewell to Issa before the queen takes off. As nimble in departure as she was in arrival, she sends up only the lightest spatter of mud when she takes off.
It is the blue that launches into the sky last, and if he ought to be faster and more agile than a gold, he is also far less considerate. Mud goes flying, both from scrabbling talons and initial wingbeats. Then they're coasting away, the only thing to mark their presence at all the mess that Vellath has made of the ground.
Time: Late morning on Day 25, Month 2, Turn 3
Players: Issa, Diya, J'lor, Cassiel, Oshisyth, Nenuith, Vellath, Chiavelth
Scene: Issa returns to offer a safe place for Cassiel to speak. Cassiel is less than entralled.
Not many will notice if a third wing greenrider slips away from the Weyr during the dinner hour, save for the few who know that this trip in particular was more than just a jaunt to seek a home-cooked meal from some distant relatives in a distant cothold. Though it's quite distant indeed, there will be no meal, not even family strictly speaking. Just another clandestine meeting on that tropical island divided by a ribbon of water. Oshisyth's sudden mindtouch is as always a surprise, a surprise that rambles a bit this time. We've come again, and we need to talk. All of us. The greenrider, too. The same place, of course, she says, an image of the tall grass field and vaguely remembered mud slipped in quickly, we'll be waiting. We only have an hour, hurry, hurry. And, true to her word, the little green waits dutifully next to her rider in among the tall grass, a section of higher ground chosen so that, while a faint, misting rain falls around them, the miring mud proves less of a problem than before. Issa waits quietly, thoughtful, arms crossed as she remains perched on the forearm of her dragon, at least until the others have landed.
Moments after the calls go out, Nenuith steps up to her ledge and drops off, swinging easily into a fast glide. When she reaches the hill Issa and Oshisyth have chosen, she backwings sharply to check her speed and drops into a dainty landing not a length away from her daughter. Diya has had the foresight to wear sandals this time, and they slap on the ground when she slides down from her dragon. "Issa," she greets, striding towards her former assistant. Nenuith cranes her head around to watch the meeting, uttering a quick croon before she turns to watch the skies for Vellath and Chiavelth.
Dinner there is late morning here, and that thankfully has the weyrlings busy with chores and strap making. J'lor was seated in the clearing, helping one of the younger boys with a somewhat tricky stitch, when Vellath lifts his head and peers off towards the beach. J'lor blinks down at the straps in his hands. "E'ber, why don't you ask one of the others to help you the rest of the way. I'll be back shortly." He stands, bare feet squishing as he climbs onto Vellath and they launch upwards and over towards the usual meeting place. Oshisyth's has come again, Vellath informs his favorite green. You and yours must come too. We will be here. The image given from the mainland green is broadcast to the one in exile.
Chiavelth is the last to arrive, circling the clearing a full circuit before finally winging down, her landing still a cautious distance from the others. Cassiel's dismount is equally slow and wary, and the greenrider stays at that distance with her dragon, arms crossed loosely over her chest as she leans against the green's shoulder. As cautious as a spit-dog who's been given one too many kicks, she refuses to come closer yet.
"Diya," Issa greets in return, hopping down from the electric green forearm that serves as her perch. Since her mentor is the first to touch down, there's little hesitation about sweeping the goldrider up into a swift, firm hug that parts halfway only when the wingbeats of the blue are heard. And so that's the image that J'lor and Cassiel both will be met with, one of Issa's arms thrown in an easy half embrace around Diya's waist. Accumulated water droplets are brushed away from her brow once the other two are settled, however far away, and then they each get a nodded greeting of their own. "J'lor," she says, more formal than the emotion that filled Diya's name, "Cassiel." Pale blue eyes linger on the wary greenrider, lips lifted into a sympathy-smoothed smile though her eyes tense lightly at the sight. "We have a meeting arranged." And so it's back to business, her arm pulling slowly away from Diya and crossing across her midsection again along with the other one, though she keeps the close proximity.
The bluerider slides down from Vellath who settles where he lands, his eyes resting on Chiavelth. "Issa," he offers along with a nod. But, instead of moving towards the goldrider and her companion, he heads towards Cassiel. One brow arches, one hand extends to the greenrider, palm up, and there he waits. "Nothing happens without your word. I promise."
Diya leaves her arm around the shorter woman long enough to give her a second reassuring squeeze before it's time for business and she, too, draws away. She watches Cassiel, noting her reluctance to come forward, with an odd, sympathetic wriggle in her lips. It's to J'lor she looks, though, letting him deal with the greenrider he knows best.
Cassiel doesn't look as though she appreciates J'lor's gesture; her brows lower, furrowing, accusing as she looks to the hand. Unable to refuse the invitation without looking childish or frightened, she leaves her arms crossed over her chest as she pushes off of Chiavelth's shoulder and walks past J'lor towards the other two, though she still maintains her distance from them, making the division between them and herself clear in her posture. "Clear skies," she says grudgingly.
"Not likely, it seems," Issa responds, pausing in her study of the other greenrider's face to spare an upward sweeping glance at the cloud-hung sky that sprinkles a mist down on them, lips lightly smiling no longer in sympathy but with veiled amusement. "But I'll make do," she adds, smoothing a damp, wayward curl behind her ears before tucking her hand back into crossed arms, almost mirroring Cassiel's posture herself. Her gaze swings across to Diya and then J'lor, brief glances that ultimately end up focusing on Cassiel again. "Have you decided?" she asks simply.
Blue eyes dip down to J'lor's offered hand when Cassiel walks by it, foregoing any further study of the greenrider to watch how this bluerider responds. Diya leaves her head at a slight tilt, curling up the corners of her lips to have an understanding smile ready should he look back at her. He only has a moment to do so before Diya becomes aware of Issa's sweeping glance and returns to the immediate question of Cassiel's response.
The empty hand hangs for a moment before J'lor pushes it into his pocket and he turns to follow after Cassiel. His expression is mostly neutral when he glances towards Diya, and his picks a place somewhere between the line Cassiel's body language has drawn and where Issa rests. It is in this middle space that he stands, feet bare, to cant his head to the side. "Perhaps, Issa, if you might state what it is you are proposing, we might be better able to decide?" The last word tips upwards, making the whole sentence a question. His dark eyes flick from Issa to Cassiel, one brow again lifted in silent query.
"Do you have assurances of my safety?" Cassiel asks in return, arching a pale brow sharply. She flicks a glance to J'lor for his more diplomatic phrasing, then lets out a long, measured breath. When she straightens, there's a glimpse of something more polished beneath the ragged, exile exterior, some long-neglected art of presence. "I can't go back to the mainland right now," she explains in more measured tones. "I didn't want to go to pick up those boys, and I didn't want to go to take them back. But I did. And what I got for my trouble was...unpleasant, shall we say. Unpleasant, but not unexpected. Without some assurance that the same won't happen at someone else's hands, I won't go back. Not under cover of darkness, to be seen as some underhanded exile. I'll go back openly, under protection, or not at all."
The word 'unexpected' has Issa's jaw clenching under the otherwise neutrally smiling expression, a moment's hesitation spared to smooth the unwanted tension after Cassiel's done speaking before she responds. "I have assurances," she says first, solemnity erasing all hints of earlier lightness in her voice, but adds afterward, "but only my word on my intentions, the intentions of those who are involved, those who will be present. It's the best I can offer in a situation like this." Oshisyth peeks into the minds of the dragons, offering to them all, though her hesitance is palpable with the other green, Nenuith can press us, if you like. Issa continues, keeping her gaze steady on the other greenrider, her hanging pause, a mere missed beat, the only evidence she gives that she was included in the decision behind her dragon's offer. "The whole point of this arrangement is your safety," she points out, "as well as the safety of any others... if they're caught." Her eyes move to J'lor and stay there, lips picking up a fleeting curve before she says, "I'll get to the plan. In full detail, I promise. But I want to make sure that you understand what we mean by doing this." And then she looks back to Cassiel. "To make sure you know you can trust us. Trust me."
Green takes over the whirl in Nenuith's eyes, grown fast at that suggestion. A slight turn of her head brings every dragon in range of her faceted eyes, turning their angled reflections blue and green regardless of their real hue. "If you like," Diya repeats, giving verbal confirmation of the words passed onto her by her dragon, who huffs quietly.
The bluerider's lips are pressed thin as Vellath relays the offer, but if any will ask for such a thing, it will not be him. Issa is given his attention and a small nod, but then J'lor looks, once more, to Cassiel.
"Whose support do you have? What percentage of the Council?" Cassiel asks, tipping her head to one side. "Where will we meet, and even having Nenuith press your green - assuming I trusted Nenuith - does me little good if whoever has assured you of my safety is working with other plans behind /your/ back. It wouldn't be the first time someone abused a connection to us," she notes cooly, turning a rather pointed gaze on Diya. "To trap us." She holds that gaze for a long moment, then turns back to Issa. "Neutral ground," she offers. "There's a," her lips twitch in a sardonic smile, "Vast chain of islands this side of the planet. I'll meet your people on one of them."
Calm and composed still, Issa meets Cassiel's questioning with an evenly cool voice straight from the northern winds of the Reaches. "Technically, I suppose we have one-sixth of the Council. But it's not that official. We're working more or less alone. Roa and I were the ones with the plan from the beginning, we wanted S'lien crushed." The vehemence in her voice rises up suddenly, a brief flash of fire within the ice that fades soon after. "We have a shaky case at best without you. Roa only recently talked with the Masterharper. He's agreed to a trial only if we can furnish a victim testimony. He's the only official support to back us, besides High Reaches' leadership, and then just indirectly. I'm going to be completely honest with you," she says, her voice mirroring the drop into further frankness, "I can't speak for the Masterharper or the Master that would handle your case. But everyone else I will personally vouch for. I'm trusting them with my life as we speak." Intent eyes and a pause make sure that comment lands before she continues. "We can," she concedes with a nod, eyes falling to the ground very briefly, "negotiate the specifics of the meeting. Of course. I'd ask that you keep in mind, though, that our own safety is also at risk," says the greenrider currently braving the possibility of being caught by someone like S'lien herself.
For reasons of her own, the beginnings of a frown are forming on Diya's features when Cassiel throws her that pointed look. The goldrider cools her expression to meet that gaze, lifting her chin and her brow in tandem. She holds her ground, then, but she makes no effort to advance a defense, though Nenuith puts in a quiet grumble.
J'lor is, for the most part, keeping himself out of this part of the discussion. It is left to Cassiel. His brows do lift, just faintly, at the mention of the Masterharper. "Kazimir would come himself?" He tries to keep the question blank, but it comes out as just slightly skeptical. Then to Chiavelth's rider he notes, "I do not know how we can arrive openly and demand they come to the islands at the same time."
"He is," Issa answers quickly, decidedly. "We've arranged a meeting time and place that he's confirmed."
"The Masterharper and the shaky, brand new leadership of High Reaches Weyr." Cassiel's tone is flat, though her brow is arched high. "You want me to stake my life and Chiavelth's on what is looking increasingly like a secret trip to the mainland - illegal, mind you - to confess to two illegal trips to the mainland to a man who may or may not be inclined to let me go afterwards, and may or may not be able to do anything to /get/ me free even if he /does/ decide that I ought to be let go, rather than held for further trial." She shakes her head, turning away with a paced step, turning back. "You can't use my testimony to do whatever it is you think you'll be able to do to a Weyrleader without punishing me as well. It won't hold up. Kazimir should know that, he knows law. You have the word of a criminal against Pern's golden boy. Do the math, greenrider." Frustrated, she drags a hand over her hair. "The Masterharper and the leadership of High Reaches Weyr, and you think you can guarantee the safety of an exile?" she asks, sounding dismayed.
"You can twist it any way you like," Issa answers evenly, seemingly unaffected by Cassiel's venting frustrations. "But it is what it is. And it is the only way we have a chance of punishing S'lien for what he did to you. I realize what it must look like to you. But I have spent /months/," and then that fire recently buried flares up again, "looking for a way to pin that snake. Believe me, you're it." A shrug for the finality of that word and then she moves on. "The secrecy is protection in itself. You'll between to the location," kept purposefully vague just now, "give testimony to the few there, and between back here." One hand slips out of the tightly crossed arms to jab a finger at the muddy ground they stand on. "We have a gold dragon to enforce that. Even further if it's within High Reaches territory." Let's just slip that in, for good measure. "I have an idea that will perhaps make it safer for you to travel to the mainland, but you won't like it." Of this she's certain, pinning Cassiel with her stare still. "Should I describe what Roa has arranged, or would you like to reject it without bothering?" Is that a subtle undertone of sass? Ignore it. Issa slides a glance sideways to Diya, begging she overlook that slip. She passes it off as a mere plea for permission, though, her eyes turning to J'lor to glean his answer as well.
Diya does not return the look, but her hand lifts towards Issa, a gentling motion written into the splay of her fingers. "Kazimir is stubborn, but not dishonest," she remarks. "He knows the law better than any of us here, and if he thinks it possible to punish S'lien for his crimes, he does not do so to entrap you. Issa says you are the key to his case. Let him tell you what that case is, and if you still don't trust it, then don't become his key." Her thin shoulders lift in a slow shrug, the hand she waved at Issa curling back in towards her stomach. "As I gather, we are having this meeting to arrange that one. Let us do that, if we are going to, and not attempt to guess the Masterharper's case without the Masterharper."
The bluerider's eyes flick from Cassiel to Issa to Diya as each one speaks in turn. If there is any irony that once again he plots to create clandestine meeting on High Reaches ground to help his people, it only shows in a faint and mirthless smile that briefly curls his lips. "She's right, Cassiel. We trust them or we don't. We risk it or we don't. I...would like to hear what she proposes. Might we?"
Cassiel settles a long, hard gaze on Issa, Diya's words flatly ignored. "Will you fight for my freedom?" she asks in a low, intense voice. "If I take myself and Chiavelth to High Reaches, to wherever this meeting will be, will you fight if I'm betrayed? If I get to this meeting and Nenuith's rider decides once again that we're worth her price of admission into the upper echelons of leadership, if Roa-" She stops, holding a hand over her eyes and turning away again. "Just Roa and the Masterharper. No one else. If I see another body or another dragon, we're back here before you can blink."
"I'm risking my life to bring you, why wouldn't I do the same to bring you back?" Issa questions, ignoring the mist that clings to her lashes to convey her sincerity in a steady gaze. "But there's... we'll need witnesses and... let me explain it," she swiftly states, brushing over the mild hesitations with a frown that drops faintly and disappears again. Her feet shift on the ground, boots finding, if not better, then new purchase. With a nod to J'lor and Cassiel both, she begins. "Exactly one sevenday from now is when the meeting is set, in a cothold in a sparser region of the Reaches-- days travel from anywhere by foot. Belongs to Miniyal's," another nod to J'lor, eyes searching out recognition, "great uncle, Clery. Old uncle, harmless. The plan includes six people. Seven at most. The leaders of Reaches, Kazimir and his Master, and two healers. To treat any injuries that may have escaped notice as well as to look for medical evidence of your torture. That's what Roa specified." And, if the greenrider does /her/ math, that's six. The seventh comes next. "I have in mind an addition that could not only make this trip look less... illegal and even prevent, like you said, further trials in regards to the boys. But, you won't like it," she repeats, "I wouldn't myself. But hear it out." She draws out a bracing pause for the facet she knows will bring protest then continues with quiet confidence unmarred by hesitation. "To make it seem as if this is a legal summons-- which it is not," this she emphasizes with firm voice and gaze both, "to the rest of Pern, we would need an escort. Preferably one of the original riders that carried the exiles. Preferably from Telgar." Whether protests have made themselves known at this time or not, she holds a flat-palmed hand up to quiet them. "If Telgar is involved in the investigation against its own Weyrleader, we're more likely to strip S'lien of his knot, more likely to keep him powerless after. If it /seems/ like you are being brought as a prisoner, people are less likely to kick up a fuss about exiles being able to show up on the mainland without warning. It will serve to better keep past actions buried and keep further attention from focusing on the island itself. You deliver your statement, answer whatever questions you choose, and between back here; all as quick as it can be done. If a trial comes out of it, we'll confront how to handle that trip when it comes." Her hand drops then, a starting flag for the protests it's held off until now. Now she's ready for the barrage.
If there are any protests, they are not for Diya to make. The goldrider crosses her arms over her chest and listens intently, but with no hint of a response on her face; it's the same empty but receptive stare that she turns on J'lor and, mostly, Cassiel when the explanation finishes.
The bluerider was listening with quiet interest. He even nodded a couple times...until the business with a Telgari escort came about. J'lor sucks in a breath to say something, but Issa's hand stays him. It is not until she falls quiet that he speaks. "The only ones from Telgar that transported us were the weyrwoman and weyrleader. Cellena wouldn't dare come near us, now. And -he- is not welcome to."
"Roa. The Masterharper. Two healers. That's it, or you can find another way to deal with him. You came here dangling some sort of hope at me, and all you have is a single craftmaster and a single Weyr for support," Cassiel says tightly. "I'm not risking my life on your inability to properly lay the groundwork for a /real/ case. If you want me to meet someone now, it will be Roa, the Masterharper, and two healers. No other dragons and no other people. If you want anything other than that, come back when you've got two more Weyrs, at /least/ four Lord Holders, and another three Craftmasters." With that, she turns, shaking her head to J'lor with evident disappointment before stalking back to Chiavelth. The green obligingly lowers her shoulder for her rider to mount, and the pair depart.
Issa has the composure not to look away when the expected protests, indeed, fall on her ears; she takes them in stride, listening patiently to first J'lor's and then Cassiel's. But when the greenrider turns to mount and leave, Issa drops her eyes to the ground. She waits until the green's airborne, at betweening altitude, to speak again. But when she does speak, it's much more stilted than before, troubled by frustration that breaks through her masking efforts. "This is a new precedent we'd be setting," she tells J'lor, "we can't expect..." Realizing the sound of her own voice she stops and stares out across the field at the water in the distance. Seconds later she utters a much more controlled, "I'm sorry," though whether it's directed at Diya or J'lor is debatable as her eyes remain unfocused and distant.
Diya sneaks a hand out to nudge the back of Issa's, a comforting touch that goes no further lest it interfere with the controlled posture she's adopted. "She's been through a great deal," the goldrider notes softly. "We can't expect her to put trust in Northern promises so quickly." She flicks a quick glance at J'lor, raising an eyebrow just the smallest bit, for just the smallest second, before her level blue gaze returns to Issa.
"No," J'lor sighs, his own attention on the little green vanishing into the distance, "of course we can't. She's looking for excuses. Reasons not to go." His other hand is jammed into his pocket as he turns back to Issa and Diya. "But the other request seems possible. Roa, Kazimir and your healers. That could be arranged, could it not?"
"I know. I know," Issa responds vacantly to Diya before stirring from whatever reverie held her in that stare. Her eyes flick over to J'lor and linger on his face for a moment after he asks his question. "Possible," she concedes quietly, control over her voice regained, "but far from ideal. Kazimir specified someone in particular, it seemed important. Ysid-something." Far more flustered than her even tone would suggest, if she's forgetting names. A hand lifts to flutter and whip the air with her fingers briefly before it rests on her arm again. "The Weyrleader might be convinced to stay behind, but that leaves us with only one influential witness. If we had an escort..." This she appeals to Diya now, counting J'lor as a lost cause. With a shake of her head, she adds just this, "Without an escort it leaves /all/ of us open to later attacks."
Those words raise Diya's brow, a tilt angled into the carriage of her head. Attacks? Her eyes slide back to J'lor, whom she does not seem to consider a lost cause just yet, and question his expression for a moment more before she answers. "Kazimir agreed to take this case. Let him agree to take the responsibility for summoning her. He can do without his Ysid-something, or he can do his own bargaining." She twists up a smile, but it's a wry one, and resigned.
"Ysidro," J'lor informs them both, his hands slipping from his pockets to cross over his chest. "I remember him. He was assigned to our defense. He took it seriously. I think, with a little time, I can convince her to allow him. An escort..." the bluerider shakes his head, "less likely, and I don't...it's complicated. I think a weyrleader's presence would likely keep us safer, rather than elevate the danger, but that is on the supposition that he would be there -for- our protection. It is a supposition I would allow, even if Cassiel will not. Yet."
A puffed breath of amusement escapes Issa unchecked for the thought of Kazimir himself descending to the island to bargain with the same trio of riders, her lips twisting up into a smile as well, but a brief one. "The defense will use it against her, if she comes alone," she murmurs, almost to herself, "and maybe another prosecution later. Worse, maybe." But the uttering of that name she flubbed draws her out of the exchange with Diya and she turns back to J'lor with a raised brow. Her lips form a tiny, silent, 'oh' as she connects the pronounced name with its spelling-- passages, mentions, footnotes in books she's read. "I'm not even sure of him," she admits. "Roa's insistence. I'll try and talk her out of bringing him. If you'll, please, try and talk to her about the escort. I swear on my life and the life of my dragon that the only reason is I honestly believe it will make things smoother, here and on the mainland." Conviction swells in her words, quieting by the time she gets to saying, "A trustworthy Telgari rider, at the very least. Of Roa's choosing."
Diya raises a brow when she hears Ysidro's name, though her reaction doesn't show any of the familiarity that is triggered in Issa. "If she cannot be convinced," the goldrider reflects, "we will have no way of telling you." Her long, slim fingers turn over elegantly. "She may simply not appear, and the illustrious honor guard you've assembled for her will be left to twiddle their thumbs. Be aware of this, as you make arrangements."
The bluerider closes his eyes, one hand pulling free of his pocket to scrub at his face. "You don't know what you're asking of me, Issa," he mutters before the hand drops. "She won't be coming to the mainland alone, but I understand what you mean. I'll try. I cannot promise. Why can't Roa be an escort? Or R'vain?"
"I'll come back. A few days. A shorter meeting, smaller. Doesn't need to be all of us. Be ready with compromises, alternate plans, anything, and we'll do the same. We can decide something more concrete then, postpone if we need to." The plan sweeps out of Issa's mouth almost without thinking, impulse translated into actual words without the trouble of a middle man. She turns to face J'lor with a slow nod, considering. "They would do, if nothing else. An escort keeps you safe. A Telgari escort keeps Roa and I safe. A Telgari involved lessens the burden of explaining how we knew in the first place that the so-called help he was giving an Istan rider wasn't anything of the sort. Keeps Reaches safe, if it's Telgar ousting its own Weyrleader." With a sigh, she concedes even more. "We can find another way, though, if absolutely necessary."
Diya welcomes the idea of another meeting with a simple nod, but from there on it's J'lor's ball, and she watches the bluerider with silent interest. Every repetition of Telgar hoists her eyebrow a fraction higher.
He sighs softly and nods. "It's what we'll have to do, then. I would keep you and Roa safe, but Cassiel...she needs to step forward. If Telgar's participation negates that, we cannot have it." J'lor takes a few steps backwards and towards his waiting blue.
Already watching J'lor carefully, Issa notes those few retreating steps peripherally and nods her head, stirring from her stiff posture almost as if she's been dismissed. "I understand," she tells him, quietly sincere, offering a jerked nod. "We'll work around it. Three days." It's a reminder for J'lor, but as she turns to Diya, the same words seem almost a promise, and she offers another tight half hug.
Diya brings her other arm around to turn that half hug into a full one. "We appreciate the risks you take, coming here," she tells the young greenrider. She steps back, holding one hand on Issa's shoulder to keep her out at arm's length when she confirms, "Three days." A look over her shoulder finds J'lor retreating and raises a brow for his confirmation, but having already given hers she steps back to stand at Nenuith's shoulder.
The bluerider nods. "I'll have answers for you then, one way or the other," he agrees. "Thank you. Thank her, too. We'll speak again, soon." Then he's climbing up onto Vellath, leaving muddy footprints on his lifemate's hide.
Issa ends the exchange with a simple nod and soon she's spreading muddy footprints too, not only across green hide, but on her straps as well. Oshisyth waits, time enough to spare in the hour allotted for this trip in order for the green to, respectfully, be the last to leave.
Diya does not make her stay long, although from her perspective the green will notice the thoughtful frown that follows her rider's retreating back. Of course, with Nenuith placidly watching Oshisyth, whether the stare is observed or not doesn't seem much of an issue to Diya. She turns to climb up Nenuith's tall shoulder, and waves farewell to Issa before the queen takes off. As nimble in departure as she was in arrival, she sends up only the lightest spatter of mud when she takes off.
It is the blue that launches into the sky last, and if he ought to be faster and more agile than a gold, he is also far less considerate. Mud goes flying, both from scrabbling talons and initial wingbeats. Then they're coasting away, the only thing to mark their presence at all the mess that Vellath has made of the ground.