Difference between revisions of "Logs:Making Deals"

It's a damp, cool autumn afternoon over Nabol, and sweeps are... well, predictably boring. The harvest should be in full swing in the fields below, but there are obvious signs there that everything is not right: there are burnt fields, here and there, and some that surely ought to have been harvested and haven't, and some that have been... but only partially. Below, another hold comes into view, and then-- is that someone waving? Several someones? Waving something brightly coloured and clearly designed to attract attention?

The sweeps are more boring to H'vier than to Reisoth, the former barely paying attention to anything but his thoughts because he knows his lifemate will be watching below. And he is. There's probably some warning comment from him before his path changes and he circles around the colorful waving from below to find a landing point that he deems appropriate. H'vier has pulled his attention back to the present at least, and once the bronze has landed, he waves over the hailers while working on unstrapping himself. Excuse him if he's not in the biggest hurry to get off of his dragon.

It's worth noting that the fields around this particular tiny hold have largely been harvested, which is a good sign. As Reisoth lands, the wavers dash towards dragon and rider, one after another. Most of them seem to be coming from the fields, but there's a small, scrawny boy who looks rather less related than the others who comes from another direction altogether. A man in his fifties rests his hands on the shoulders of one of the youngest of his sons, watching while H'vier unstraps. It's the oldest of the boys, a young man who must be in his early twenties, who says, "Our duties to High Reaches Weyr, Bronzerider. We have a proposition for you, if you'll hear us out." There's an air of tension in him, and in the others, too. Only that scrawny boy, the one who doesn't seem to belong, seems calm - and he is watchful and intense, standing a short distance away from the others. The father keeps turning his head slightly to look at him, then hastily turning it back.

Reisoth does not seem particularly enamored with the people coming closer but he remains aloof rather than outright contemptuous. He eyes the boy that is other, if only for a few moments, but H'vier's focus is on the one that speaks. "And ours to you," says the rider as he dismounts the bronze and moves to offer a hand to the speaker. "I'll hear you out. Of course. But I can't make any promises than that." It's a standard disclaimer, really. He can listen, though. Free of charge and everything.

"Alikos," says the self-appointed spokesman of the group, by way of introduction, as he shakes H'vier's hand with the firm, solid grip one might expect from a confident, composed farmer. "My father, Rhikios; my brothers. We can't ask for more than that-- that is, we will ask, but we'll understand if you say no." Rhikios' discomfort with this whole affair is evident, especially in the way he tightens his grip on that young son's shoulders, but Alikos is determined. "We've been threatened. There are men who have come here, intent on taking us all to be soldiers for Lord Rone. We had managed to hide, but they say they'll burn our harvest unless we go. My brothers are young - too young. We want no part in this."

It's probably a habit that H'vier doesn't tend to offer his name right away in most situations. But since they're being given, he says, "H'vier. Reisoth's." The bronzerider's gaze shifts to the father, more briefly to the younger boys, and back to Alikos as he listens. His is expression is serious all the while, even a small frown visible below his neatly trimmed beard. "I've heard rumors. But this is the first I've heard first hand. What would you have me do, if anything could be done?" Isn't he the optimist.

This time, it's Rhikios who answers, blurting the words out in a way that suggests he was really not supposed to talk during this encounter. "Take my boys back to the Weyr. Keep them safe. Please." Alikos snaps his mouth open, and then seems unable to actually say anything; his father's words have left him in a situation he hasn't prepared for. Rhey, however, that other who has until now said nothing, takes another step forward. "You can have the tithe," he says, quickly. "We'll give it to you directly. The whole harvest. Who knows how much of a proper tithe the Weyr will get, but if you take us..."

Even Reisoth turns his great head to look at the small group when the older man speaks. H'vier eyes Rhikios for a long few moments, expression neutral despite the pleading. It's not until Rhey speaks that the bronzerider seems to have noticed him at all but words like 'whole harvest' are a sure way to catch his enterprising attention. Rather than respond to that, however, H'vier arches a brow at Alikos as though he views him as the voice of authority of the bunch. Is that true?

Rhikios seems desperately uncomfortable, now that he's spoken like that and at least partially because of Reisoth's regard, and drops his gaze towards the ground after one more beseeching glance. Alikos' nod is an answer, and one that he follows up a moment later with: "As long as you leave enough for my parents and my sisters to live in, you can take the rest. We just need to get my brothers out of here, at least until things die down."

"Of course," is meant in response to leaving enough for the remaining family to live off of but otherwise H'vier is silent for a short time, thinking or conversing with the dark bronze at his back. "It's a generous offer, I admit. But it sets a difficult precedence. It's impossible for the Weyr to take in every boy in the coverage area, even if everyone of their families offered the same. But." There's always a but, isn't there? At least this one can't be worse than what he's already said. "I may be able to help." For a price, is left unsaid.

Both Alikos and his father seem... surprised? Which is short-sighted of them, really: the Weyr may benefit from getting their harvest, but does H'vier? Rhey, still unnamed, seems far less wrong-footed by the implication - rather as though he expected it. "It's impossible for you to take everyone, that's true," he agrees, sounding rather older than his appearance suggests. "But that isn't your problem, is it? What is it we could do to make it worth your while?" The family give him a startled, uncomfortable glance; several of the younger boys even step away from him, wary and watchful. It's yet another reminder that he really does not belong here.

It's a shame they didn't flag down someone more virtuous, truthfully. They could always wait for the next sweeprider, of course, but since H'vier is here right now, he looks at Rhey and makes a gesture toward the other side of Reisoth. Apparently this is how he intends to speak more privately. A gesture is given to Alikos as well. He and Rhey are the most able-bodied as far as the bronzerider can tell. "Just a word," he assures.

Virtuous would, indeed, be more useful right now. But when a person is desperate (and this group really does seem to be)... Alikos looks to Rhey for confirmation, this time, despite the difference in age - and despite Alikos' general role as spokesperson. Rhikios opens his mouth, like he's going to argue, but a look from Rhey shuts his mouth. "Just a word," confirms Alikos. "All right, then." Both young men abandon the group in order to follow the direction, the elder nervously hesitant, the younger apparently quite unbothered.

Once the three of them are on the far side of Reisoth and out of easy ear shot, the bronzerider looks between the pair like he's not entirely sure either of them are up to snuff. Reisoth, meanwhile, keeps an eye on the others by way of staring. It's an interesting experiment. "I want to help you, I assure you. I don't mean to seem as though I'm trying to take advantage of you. That's not my intent. But I could use a strong," a look is given to Alikos, "and smart," another to Rhey, "man to help me make sure this sort of thing doesn't happen to others." When he's at least attempted to sound like his actions are truly from the goodness of his heart, H'vier continues. "I want someone inside. Someone that can be trusted." Or bribed. Or blackmailed. Or simply made to feel as though they're important. Something like that.

Reisoth's stare very clearly makes Rhikios and his younger sons uncomfortable: as they wait, they do so in stiff, awkward silence, rather as if they're afraid to move. On the other side of the bronze dragon, Rhey and Alikos listen in silence. It's Rhey, unsurprisingly, who sums it all up first: "You want someone in Rone's militia. You want one of us to stay." The look he gives Alikos is meaningful and intense, and uncomfortably unsubtle for the young man who largely seems so well composed. Alikos clearly takes whatever meaning there is there, and lifts his chin awkwardly. "You mean... you want me to stay, and be taken by them, so that you can get an in... and so that my family can be safe." His voice sounds a little weak.

H'vier smiles at Rhey. Clever boy. "That's right." His focus turns on Alikos, trying to look as sympathetic as possible. "I know it's a lot to ask, son. But you would be doing both your family and the Weyr a great service. And I'll personally see to it that your family is kept safe and comfortable. All you need to do is integrate. Find information that could be of use in dismantling this nonsense before it gets too out of hand." Granted, the farmers that have had crops burned or son's taken probably already think it's rather out of hand.

Something about Rhey's expression suggests he's not as taken in by H'vier's supposed sympathy as Alikos is-- but he's also keeping his mouth shut. "I'd do it if I could," he murmurs to the other young man, and there's something awkward about that. Alikos, at least, seems to accept it, nodding. He turns his attention back on H'vier. "I'll do it," he says, after a deep swallow. "I'll do as much as I can. I can pass information to Rhey's crew--" He clearly hasn't supposed to say that, because the younger boy looks startled, though he doesn't argue and says, instead, "I can pass it in from there. Get it passed on. It would be easier if I could stay, but... there are ways." He nods, as if to confirm the plan.

And things that aren't supposed to be said always do seem to be the most interesting, don't they? H'vier looks from Alikos to Rhey, studying that one with open curiosity. But questions can wait till later. Later when there's less opportunity for anyone to back out prematurely. "Wonderful. If you'd rather not have your father worry over you, Alikos, you can come with the rest and you can be dropped off later." He'll leave that up to the young man, of course, but since he figures they're well enough done conducting business, H'vier gestures back to where the rest of the family is waiting.

"That would be better," agrees Alikos, after another swallow. "He might back out of the deal, otherwise. He'd--" He casts a glance in the general direction of where his father is standing, and then shakes his head. It probably goes without saying, really. More loudly, he says, "If you send some dragons to pick up the harvest, my father will make sure it's ready for you. Thank you, sir." He'll even lead the way back towards the family, fast enough that the far shorter Rhey needs to trot to keep up. "Get your things," he instructs his brothers. "We don't want to make the Dragonrider wait, do we?"

"The Weyr is glad to be of service," returns H'vier, sounding pleased. Pleased to be able to help a family in need with their problems, of course! "You have smart lads here, sir," he says to Rhikios once they've rounded Reisoth again. "You should be proud of them. They'd make fine dragonriders. Every one of them, I bet." Even the younger ones that he smiles at. But then, he probably says that to all of the holders. Reisoth is likely the one to start looking restless if they start taking too long but H'vier will maintain the appearance of patience as things are gathered.

Rhikios may not be wholly sold on even the theoretical good qualities of his sons as dragonriders, but he manages a game enough smile anyway. Luckily for everyone, any tearful farewells are concluded inside the little stone hold, even if remnants of them - including tear-stained cheeks for the two youngest boys - are obvious when everyone returns. And if there really needed to be yet another indication that Rhey does not really belong? He does not disappear inside with the others, and instead seems to gather his things from somewhere outside... though he's very deliberate in returning only after the others have, as if to ensure that he's not left alone with H'vier. At last they're ready to go: Alikos, three younger brothers, and Rhey, four bound for the Weyr and one, solemn-faced, for the Hold.

When the family returns, H'vier has already attached the extra straps in a way that everyone will be secure enough for the easy flight and pop between to the Weyr. The bronzerider says little now that isn't something encouraging for the sake of the youngest boys as he helps load their things and then helps them mount and get secured. If H'vier has kept up on the little strange things around Rhey, and surely he has judging by the way he looks at him now and then, he doesn't let onto it right now. He's last to mount and before he does so, he turns to offer Rhikios his hand. "I'll make sure they're taken care of, sir. You can rest assured. And I'll be back with more riders."

Rhey is ever careful not to meet H'vier's gaze... and though he aims an encouraging smile at the younger boys, it's obvious that they would rather take their comfort from Alikos. Oh well. Rhikios has lifted his chin by the time H'vier turns back, but he accepts the man's hand and gives him a firm nod. "Thank you, sir," he says, quietly. "I know they'll be safer there. I know this was the right thing to do. With luck, they'll be able to come home soon, right? And everything will be back to normal. We'll be ready for your riders."

"With luck," agrees H'vier readily. "Stay safe, Rhikios. And clear skies." The bronzerider has a final smile for the farmer before he's turning to his dragon to mount up and make sure everyone and thing is still secure before Reisoth mantles his great wings and launches them into the air. He'll probably even warn them before they blink into the cold nothing of between.

It's too early for the tithes to be coming in and yet, on the tenth day of the tenth month, some of them do, brought in on dragonback by a handful of Iceberg wingriders. Apparently one of the holds in the Nabol area elected to send their harvest directly to the Weyr instead of going through the admittedly chaotic Nabol.

The connection between that produce and a small group of Nabolese youth suddenly taking up residence in the dorms is not an obvious one.

Rather more obvious, however, in the days that follows, is the fact that this is abruptly becoming a more frequent occurrence. For better or for worse, the tithe is coming in... and so are the refugees. How many can the Weyr take? Is this trickle going to become a stream? A torrent? Where does it end?

The various contenders at Nabol might have more to say about it, but they seem to have problems of their own (beyond the obvious): Huelet, Ustelan's eldest son, appears to have died in his sleep at age sixty-six, giving the Blood another funeral to worry about. It's difficult to know how that will go, given recent tensions... but at least it's distracting them all.