Logs:The Easy Way
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| RL Date: 12 August, 2013 |
| Who: K'zin, Rasavyth, Rhey |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr, Nabol Hold |
| Type: Log |
| What: K'zin attends a midnight meeting. He isn't stabbed for going alone after all. |
| Where: Orchard Gazebo, Nabol Hold |
| When: Day 5, Month 7, Turn 32 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Euan/Mentions, Frieja/Mentions, Huelet/Mentions, Ienavi/Mentions, Rone/Mentions, Ustelan/Mentions |
| Storyteller: K'del/ST |
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| Orchard Gazebo, Nabol Hold Built of sturdy wood on a brick foundation and painted white, this idyllic location is centered in the middle of Nabol's expansive orchards. Ivy climbs from the ground across the trellised sides to wind about the eight columns that support the circular roof. In the spring and summer, white and pink flowers drape off the eaves and match the spring green and yellow cushions that line the benches along the outer half-wall of the gazebo. Throughout the day, a pleasant breeze helps cool the air and chase away remnants of summer humidity.
It would have been better with a partner to watch their back; they both knew it. But after the words exchanged in the evening, they were on their own, for better or worse. A clear night meant Rasavyth had to keep more of a distance than he liked to not draw attention. K'zin approached on foot, dressed as he had been in the earlier hours, with one exception, now he has a worn brown coat thrown over top - even in summer, sometimes the wee hours are chilly. That, and it's better for concealment. He moves slowly through the darkness, navigating the foreign grounds and makes no fancy approach of the gazebo, though his eyes cast about in the darkness to see what the light of the stars and moons above might reveal. There's no movement and no noise from the interior of the Gazebo, and it may seem, as K'zin approaches, that there will be no one to meet him here; that this meeting has been a waste of time. But then, a shape steps out of the shadows partway, face still shadowed but form now visible. "You came," says a voice, a young one, amused and roughly Nabolese. "Mm," K'zin confirms as he steps up to the gazebo. "I'm all for doing things the easy way." His tones are kept quiet, and there's still a lilt to his voice, but he's not trying overly hard. If he's impressed by the youth's ability to move about without drawing notice demonstrated earlier and again tonight, if, indeed, it's the same youth, the bronzerider doesn't let on. It might just be possible to see the boy's grin through the shadows, but if so, it's just barely so. "The 'easy way'," he repeats, mirth audible in his tone. "Easier than skulking around stables where you don't belong? Fewer people to see you here. Who are you?" "Does it matter?" K'zin queries, stepping into the gazebo to occupy some shadows of his own. "Do you usually involve names in these sort of conversations?" He doesn't answer what makes this the easy way. "You said you can sell me anything I want to know." He lets the sentence be leading. "What is it you think I want?" "I didn't," says the boy, and now he really does seem amused, "ask for you name." He's got to be several turns younger than K'zin, at least, given the pitch of his voice, but there's something hard about it, too: he's no child, whatever his age. "You want information. You and your partner - I note you didn't bring her along with you tonight - are no Nabolese, and no stablehands. You were interested in lord Euan. Your ears were perked. You," he concludes, apparently pleased, either with himself or with something else altogether, "want information." Amusement. Good. Let him underestimate them. Rasavyth is pleased. "Partner's an interesting conclusion to draw." K'zin observes casually, but doesn't offer more details, the tone casually neutral. "I'd imagine there wasn't a person in the stables or about the Hold interested in the happenings of recent days who weren't interested in lord Euan. Who is he?" He doesn't deny that he's not Nabolese, or a stablehand, but nor does he offer explanation. The answer comes immediately: "Why should I tell you?" "Is there more in it for you than marks?" K'zin questions after the barest pause. "Are you on someone's side? Or an equal-opportunity vendor?" "Would I tell you, if I were?" Abruptly, the boy laughs. "You're going to have to decide whether you trust me or not. I'll tell you one thing for free, though: you keep hanging around, 'investigating' how you were today? Someone will notice. And there's dangerous times ahead. You obviously don't know that much about the key players, and that's dangerous. I sell my information where I will. If you work with me, there's a chance I'll work with you." There's silence from K'zin for a moment, then: "No. I don't. But I'd like to." Then, "So what do we need to cement our working relationship?" "Bit hard to know what you're seeing, if you don't know what you're seeing," remarks the boy, easily. Abruptly, he takes a step forward, showing his face to the half-light of the moons and stars above. He is young, maybe fifteen, maybe even younger. "Need to know why the interest. You tell me that, and tell me true, and we can deal. I'm Rhey." "Because," K'zin steps to likewise show his face, "What happens here matters in the wider world." His expression is both serious and sincere. Rhey's smile is lopsided. "Does it?" He doesn't seem to expect an answer to that, nor does he push for a name or any identifying information from the rider... though there's something so observant about his expression that it's hard to believe he hasn't picked things up all of his own accord. "My information goes to the highest bidder. Me, I don't care who comes out on top. Won't do anything dodgy for you. Won't break in to anywhere, or lie and steal. I listen - that's it, that's all." "That's all I need." K'zin answers firmly. Then, dangerously (for the one who's wallet will take the hit), "Name your price. And give me the rundown. Who are the players?" The price is simple enough, and not excessively large: a certain amount for the rundown, a certain price for every additional piece of information. "And a discount if you bring me anything relevant I don't already know," concludes the boy, having rattled off his costs quite without blinking. Or pausing. "Euan's Ienavi's half-brother. He was her personal Steward, her confidant. Rone - that's Ustelan's eldest grandson, Huelet's son, the Hold's Steward - thinks he knows more than he's telling. Rone wants the Hold, but if it's going to skip Huelet, there's those who think Ustelan's second son should get it. Or sons from his later wives, wives who were actually Lady Holder. And then, of course, there's Ienavi." From within the coat is drawn pouches, small pouches, each with a set number of marks within, so K'zin doesn't need to count as he palms them to hand them over to the youth. "Tell me more about Ienavi. And what they know about the Lord's passing." The marks disappear into Rhey's clothing, leaving behind no discernible bumps and clinks; he smiles. "She's been Lady here twelve-odd turns. She was supposed to marry Rone, but then Lady Frieja - Ustelan's previous wife - died abruptly, and before anyone knew it... Ienavi was trading up. He never did forgive her for that - jilted, for his grandfather, heh." Rhey gives K'zin a knowing glance. "She's a grade a bitch, they say, but there's never been any proof she's cheated on the old bastard. Of course, now the word is she's pregnant - hid that well, if so - and he meant to acknowledge her kid. I don't know the truth of that, yet." "What do you know about her disappearance? What was lord Euan here to tell them?" Another pouch is proffered from within the coat. K'zin's tuned in, listening to each detail Rhey offers him, though showing no real sign of how much he believes. Or even if he questions it at all. This pouch, too, disappears. "No," says Rhey, with a shake of his head. "You misunderstand me. Euan lived here. He was Ienavi's personal steward. And now he's gone back to Greenfields, where no one is going to ask him stupid questions about where his sister went." Which... doesn't seem to be focused on K'zin himself. "There was a party. She claimed to be sick and didn't come. The next morning, she was reported missing. She took nothing but some petty valuables - no clothes, no personal items. She's just gone, and Rone is furious." Out in the orchard, a twig snaps. Rhey freezes. K'zin remains still a moment and then eases back into the shadows, falling silent as his eyes turn toward the orchard. Rhey does one better: he apparently disappears entirely, over the edge of the Gazebo and then... gone. But not so gone that his voice can't float back: "Rone wants her dead. Her, or her child. Ask the stablekids for 'Rhey'; they can find me." And then, lower still: "Tell your Weyr to be prepared for trouble, High Reaches." It's got to be a guess - but it's a good one. "There's more here for you," K'zin's voice comes swiftly, "And I hope you'll give me the chance to buy before you sell me out." Three more pouches can be found. And if that wipes K'zin out despite his business exploits? It's a price worth paying. He doesn't linger, leaving Rhey the chance to get the last of his payment at his leisure while the rider adopts a casual stroll as he enters the orchard, though his hands never range to his pockets, always available should he need a swift defense. The orchard is quiet again, as K'zin leaves. Whatever - or whomever - it was that made that noise is gone, now; there's nothing to stop the bronzerider from making it safely back to Rasavyth, and home. Does that make Rhey paranoid? Maybe. Should he be? Maybe that, too. |
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