Difference between revisions of "Logs:The Nabol Issue"

Council Chambers, High Reaches Weyr

At the heart of this oblong cavern is its meeting table: a long hardwood oval with a mirror's dark shine, High Reaches' sigil picked out in lapis and onyx at its center. Twenty chairs surround it, each softened by an embroidered cushion that's just a little too stiff for complete comfort -- meetings need to be kept short, after all -- with the chair at the table's head, facing the ledge, being somewhat larger than the rest.

Interspersed between glowsconces upon the smooth walls, ancient tapestries depict the territories High Reaches protects in a particularly pastoral fashion, all fluffy clouds and fluffier llamas, or else fishing crafts sailing merrily out to sea. Among them is also a natural alcove, its several wooden shelves primarily stocking fine wines and liquors as well as the glasses to serve them, though the lower shelves also hold whatever hidework requires particularly frequent attention.

A narrow wooden door leads to the Records room, while the tunnel that extends to the weyrleaders' ledge is wide enough for three men to walk abreast, with just enough kink in it to block the wind.

It's well known that K'del tends to spend his mornings in the Council Chambers, when Taiga's not at drills, and the late season snow flurry outdoors has put an early end to those. Thus, the Acting Weyrleader is sitting at the big council table, papers and reports spread out around him, a mug of klah set just past his elbow. It'll be time for lunch, soon, but whatever business it is that keeps him presently occupied has also kept him from actually drinking that klah - or eating the pastry set on a plate beside it.

Ink stained fingers (though long dry) grasp a folio of documents tightly as Edyis peers into the council chambers, her intent it seems, to locate the acting Weyrleader and spring a daring plan upon him before he can escape. Not that K'del has ever attempted to escape before; rather too much reading has probably put an adventurous mood in the young woman. She smiles spying her quarry, and summoning a breath of courage, speaks. "Sir I had hoped I might find you here, do you have a moment?" She studies the uneaten food and drink her expression quizzical.

"Hmh?" Lost in thought (or at least in paperwork), K'del's initial reaction to Edyis' words rather suggests that he failed to register her arrival - and that he's not quite 'with it' even once he has. A moment later, his elbows dropping back and very nearly sending his mug flying, he manages to focus his attention more directly upon the recordskeeper; recognition follows. "Got a moment," he confirms, then, leaning backwards in his chair so that he can study the girl. "Maybe even two, if you're lucky."

Brown eyes study him as well, and her thoughts for a moment flicker on the wisdom of her task. Too late to back down now, she carefully sets down the packet of documents within his reach. "Those are tithing records, which I'm sure you've seen before, and noted the decline. What is also included there is a list of the holdings now affected by Rone's indiscretions and what, if my calculations are accurate, this years current harvest should yield if the weyr does not offer some form of assistance." What she doesn't say is that a roster of all the refugees currently staying in the weyr is also included, Her hands empty, now folded behind her back. "It is perhaps an over generous estimate, but as you can see the relations to tithes and harvests is directly related." For a moment she blushes, knowing that she's stating facts that he is probably entirely too aware of. "I have an idea which may ease the burden on both sides - if you are interested in hearing it."

Mention of the now-deceased claimant to Nabol's Lordship results in a wince from K'del, who lifts one hand to rub at his neck even as Edyis continues to talk. It's only once she's finished that he reaches out to take the documents, though they get set down directly in front of him rather than actively perused. "In other words," he concludes, his mouth twisting in a way that suggests that, indeed, none of this is new to him, "we're going to be down tithes again this turn, unless something gets done. Which is not impossible, now that Rone is out of the picture, though of course it would be easier still if the succession were confirmed. You've got my attention, in any case." He gestures with one hand: go on.

Edyis crosses her arms, thoughtfully, "I was under the impression that the weyr intended to support Lady Ienavi, right wrong or indifferent." but that is another matter entirely, instead with permission she continues, "Right now you are overloaded on the one resource that the holds need most desperately, people. I propose, pulling groups - hopefully volunteers from among the refugees and riders who would be willing to serve as transport or even render aid themselves to take what seed can be spared from the store rooms and in groups visit the holds with offer of aid in the spring planting. If even a small group of fifty were to spend a day at each hold, you could increase the potential harvest exponentially, not to mention further build good will between the weyr and hold."

It's as an aside, really, that K'del answers that first question: "We do. But until the conclave confirms it, we can't deal with the Lady Ienavi officially: she has no power." He reaches for his pen, now, idly playing with it, balancing it across his fingers and tapping it against the tabletop and the papers laid out atop of it. "An official program of planting," is his conclusion, thoughtful. "And rebuilding, presumably, in some cases. Barns and outbuildings, things that might've been destroyed. Quinlys'll be smug about that." Beat. "It's a reasonable plan. We may need to try and trade for more seed - we don't really keep stocks of that kind of thing, not without fields of our own - but... better we go into debt for that than starve, next winter. Perhaps we could put some of Rone's men to work."

There is something sinister in the ease of her smile at the suggestion to use Rone's men. "Yes, they do owe quite a debt in damages, I hadn't even considered that lot but I suppose even they would do in a pinch, providing you have people who don't mind playing guard to watch them." She bites at her lower lip considering the matter of where the seed would come from. "I don't suppose the weyr has any uncalled favors with the halls or other areas - debt can be as dangerous as starvation. Perhaps the southern holds where the climate is more temperate for growing year round might have a more reasonable price?"

"Oh," says K'del. "They'll be watched. Yes. We've yet to solve that particular issue, entirely, but... reckon it can be managed." He's caught that smile of hers, but there's no sign in his expression that he disapproves. In any case, it's the rest of her words that he considers more closely, tapping his pen against the table more forcefully, now. "Mm. Maybe. We've some friends, and perhaps, since it would be in her own best interests, the lady Ienavi might consider pulling any strings she has." He half seems to be thinking out loud, working through these possibilities even as he's talking. "You really do care about your home, don't you?"

"I wouldn't have left if I didn't." She answers, eyes drifting to the pen, which seems safe enough. "Another thought occurs to me, which might help Lady Ienavi and further entice her to pull those strings. It would be easy to paint the entire plan as the fruits of her labor and political acumen, thus giving her the weight needed with the people and those lords who are most helped by the aid. Rumors and gossip are the food of kitchen workers and idle ladies everywhere after all." She tries focusing on the problem rather than thinking about home. Somehow he always manages to touch those feelings, the thoughts of the people and place she has left behind her. Again she pushes the emotions down one by one not daring to look up lest she risk her composure.

K'del's still watching her, studying her with intensity, especially with her gaze dropped so low. "For many of us, there's no choice but to fight for the homes we love," he says, his tone a study in neutrality. "Wherever we are, and whatever our position is. We simply can't help it." He lets that hang for several seconds before moving on, now more serious - and more grounded - in tone and expression. "That seems reasonable. You've a good head for these things, haven't you? A political brain. I'm impressed, especially in one so young. I can't give you a firm, committed yes or no at this moment, of course, but the Weyrwoman and I will certainly discuss the possibilities, and see what we can come up with."

Dark eyes lift, and for the plan she nods in agreement before something stirs in her brain causing her to speak, though the words are cautious. "That is why you agreed to become the Acting Weyrleader again isn't it, even though your family is at Fort, because this place in some small way is still your home?"

"High Reaches will always be my home," says K'del, with a little sad smile as he acknowledges her comment, as though his thoughts have immediately rushed off to his newest daughter and her mother. "And Fort will always be hers. We're destined to always be divided by it... we both stand by our duty. I could no sooner abandon High Reaches as I could abandon Iska, or any of my other children. I suppose that means I understand your feelings better than most. You may find yourself torn between them, in time, I'm afraid. High Reaches has a way of... worming its way into your heart."

Edyis laughs, "In some ways it already has, but I like it here, there's room to breathe. For what it's worth, I think you are the right man for the job right now, despite whatever the gossips might say about smoozing with foreign gold riders... though sir If I may be so bold?"

Her answer seems to please K'del; there's a look of absolute satisfaction upon his features. "Glad you think so," he tells her, cheerfully. "At least she's not Senior at Fort, at any rate. Imagine that could be... stickier, potentially. But - of course. Be bold. I'm sure I can take it."

There's something of mischief in her grin. "It's only that food is better in your stomach than left cold and untouched on a plate."

Whatever K'del expected, it clearly wasn't that. He laughs, abruptly, glancing down at the plate quite as if he'd completely forgotten it was there in the first place. "You're quite right," he agrees, head shaking. "And it's not as though we've mountains of food to waste. Want to share it with me?"

Smiles more warmly and more genuine than usual. "It has been my experience that Weyrleading requires a voracious appetite." Someone has seen Azaylia at a plate of sandwitches. "So I shall only accept the offer if you mean to leave any uneaten."

"Sit," instructs K'del, though he's grinning, so it's not precisely a command. The plate gets dragged closer to him, but only so that he can tear the pastry in half and, having picked up one of the pieces, offer the other to her. "There's not been a lot of sweet pastry around here, these recent months, and I hate to keep it all to myself. Besides, I want you to tell me how you're settling in."

Edyis does as she is bid, happily accepting the offered sweet with the enthusiasm a young child might. She nibbles at the pastry, enough to savor the delicate flavor, and a bit of surprise. "I am settling in as well as one might I suppose, I don't know what the standard is for those left behind on the sands but I'm happy, I even found employment in the records room thanks to Miss Aishani tracking down the head woman."

"'Junior Weyrwoman' Aishani," corrects K'del, lightly, though he continues quickly as though deliberately intending not to linger upon the correction. It gives him something to say that at least partially covers his less-than-fond reaction to mention of that particular goldrider. "Glad to hear it, though. It's... well, not something I experienced, personally, but I can imagine. Will you consider Standing again, the next time there's a clutch on the sands?"

"Oh, Sorry I'm still learning the proper forms of address." A blush. The second question requires more deliberation before the answer, the time bought with several small bites of pastry. "I honestly don't know. I didn't really come to reaches because I was star struck for dragons, they are something unknown. I was quite relieved not to impress this time, partially because I didn't stand for the right reasons I think." She dusts some crumbs free from her apron. "What was it like, for you to impress?"

The way K'del shakes his head, not to mention the way he waves his hand (the one holding the pastry, even), suggest he's not overly concerned about that particular slip; he's clearly much more interested in her answer to the rest. "You Stood because... because it was a way forward. A solution." He's making assumptions, here, but doesn't wait for a rebuttal - or an agreement - before adding, "You may be right. Not that... well, as you can see from that brownrider we have, it doesn't tend to matter what our reasons are, or our intentions. It... Impression is indescribable. It's... you belong. They belong. And you suddenly know what you've been missing."

"When you put it that way, it almost makes me sorry I didn't impress." Thoughtful, "I used to think of dragons and their riders like furniture, it's there and sometimes has a use but otherwise - well you forget about it. It's a little different now, the large ones still scare me a little, but after Weyrwoman Azaylia was kind enough to let me ride with her and her life mate in aid of the refugees, I think I can understand some of the appeal. I admit being able to visit warmer climates whenever you like is certainly an added bonus."

Swallowing his bite of pastry, K'del says, gently, "If you decide that it's something you truly want, there will be other opportunities for you. You're of the Weyr, now - that means you have the right to stand. Believe it or not... Azaylia herself was scared of dragons, once. They're big, but you get used to them. And," he grins, "that ability, to go places, is definitely an appeal. Once you Impress... they're your best friend, forever. Even if they drive you mad, sometimes. But it's not a life for everyone: it's a decision you need to make for yourself."

Edyis laughs a little, "I can't really picture someone so bubbly being afraid of anything. Least of all dragons with the way she fawns over the weyrlings." For impressing, she is a little somber "Or in that brown rider's case you don't get a choice at all. I think, If I have one like that, waiting on the sands for me It would be a terrible thing not to be waiting there for such a friend to welcome into the world, but then they'd find me either way wouldn't they? I don't think I'll be heartbroken forever if there isn't. I can just as easily barter with someone else who's done the hard part of feeding training and bathing such a beast to go warm places, and in time I am sure I will make wonderful friends here. "She tilts he head at him curious. "I doubt I'm in danger of having to make that decision any time in the immediate future though, right?"

"You'd be amazed at the difference between the Weyrwoman as she is now, and the Apprentice Herder she was when I first met her," says K'del, and he's fond for the recollection, seeming to need to shake those thoughts away to focus on the rest of what Edyis has said. "That's true. They... rather take the decision out of our hands. In a way, it makes things easier." He wipes crumbs from his fingers with the solid fabric of his trousers, adding, "It was... a turn and a half or so between flights for Hraedhyth, the first time. Seems not unreasonable that it'll be another turn or more. So - yes. You have time. Now," and he seems reluctant for it, "guess I'd really better get back to work. But... I do appreciate that you came to talk to me."

Edyis smiles finishing off her own pastry. "Thank you for listening, and sharing your pastry. Just leave whatever records here when you're done, I'll see they get to the appropriate place, and save you a bit of time when the boring stuff is done." She smiles, "Thank you, for making me feel more at home in any place since - well for a while." And with that the plate is collected and she is off to parts unknown, her steps seeming just a little bit lighter.