Logs:Rescue Me

From NorCon MUSH
Rescue Me
"Someone talked. Our Harper witness is dead. I'm afraid-- I'm afraid that I will be next."
RL Date: 8 August, 2013
Who: Aishani, Ienavi
Involves: High Reaches Weyr, Nabol Hold
Type: Log
What: Lady Ienavi of Nabol seeks Aishani's assistance in secret.
Where: Hunting Lodge, Nabol Hold
When: Day 19, Month 6, Turn 32 (Interval 10)
Mentions: Azaylia/Mentions, Ustelan/Mentions
Storyteller: K'del/ST


Hunting Lodge, Nabol Hold



The hunting lodge is a large building built at the edge of one of the Hold's many surrounding meadows. A large front porch provides plush seats and rocking chairs to take advantage of good weather and cool breezes. Inside, the couple of rooms that make up the lodge's interior are plush, dark spaces, filled with overstuffed furniture and enormous hearths, big enough to cook the killed game on should the hunters not care to take it back to the main kitchens.

The decor makes it plain this is a man's space, with no female hand to give it any girlish, softer touches. Over the hearth, Nabol's crest hangs, crossed with a pair of swords. Other weaponry decorates other walls, spears and bows and assorted other phallic objects. Draped over the cold stone floors and the backs of chairs and sofas are furs of Southern felines, while their heads and those of other big game are mounted on the walls.



Ienavi has often been in attendance during Aishani's visits to Nabol - Lord Ustelan is old and getting older, and her presence seems to soothe him... or perhaps it could be that she's exerting influence, something that many would not put past the Greenfields-born woman. She's a composed woman, though her reputation as a 'bitch' is probably well deserved; now thirty-two, she's been married to eighty-five-turn-old Ustelan for over a decade, young enough to be his granddaughter. Her note was... uncharacteristic, to say the least. She is not the kind of person one might expect to reach out with a plea for help.

The sun sets late at Nabol, at this time of turn, but it's still been well and truly dark for a few hours - dark, that is, except for out in the orchards, where dainty fabric lanterns hang from the trees, where harpers play, and where the noble elite enjoy themselves. Though the hunting lodge is a favourite haunt of Nabol's Blooded men, it's dark and quiet, tonight, the elsewhere revelries keeping the men with the women. Ienavi must have known that - that she could stand here in the shadow of the lodge, cloaked despite the warm night, and wait, hoping desperately that her plea has been heeded.

And Aishani does continue to visit, even in the absence of her former position; the word is she continues to make all her visits, but there are places where she might linger, where her reception is somewhat warmer than others. It's said she'll spend what could almost be called the length of a friendly visit at Crom, and given her interests in Greenfields and beyond, it's hardly surprising Ienavi might be of interest, perhaps the subject of due sympathy.

It's likely the oddity of the note and the content both that have no sign of Iesaryth near the lodge to give away Aishani's presence, nor is there much movement in the darkness until there is, but at least there's a soft clearing of throat before the tall woman, likewise cloaked, emerges from where she's been hiding. Likely watching to make sure it's not a trap, because though Ienavi doesn't seem the sort, one never knows. To the point, low-voiced, "How much time do you have?"

Ienavi has always seemed interested in Aishani, and if their visits are less convivial than the visits Aishani shares with Yuliye, that does not mean they have not been appreciated or enjoyed. At the sound of that cleared throat, Ienavi turns, her face pale and faintly green. That, too, is unusual. "Some," she says, equally low-voiced, with an edge of anxiety. "Come inside. There's no chance our voices will carry, then." The back door to the lodge is just beside where she's standing, and already unlocked: she beckons Aishani in.

A touch regretfully, "Iesaryth could watch, if she were closer. If no one would look up." Aishani doesn't seem as if she's about to take that chance, particularly given Ienavi's momentary shade of green, pale or not. Maybe the Lady Nabol can at least take some little comfort in the ease with which the goldrider seems to conduct herself clandestinely; she's quick to duck inside and near silent as she moves, confident, but concerned. Gaze flickering around the inside of the lodge briefly, checking the space, "Some is better than, ten minutes, yes? I came when I could."

The back door leads into the kitchens which, while certainly fancy, are not all that comfortable for sitting in. As Ienavi closes the door behind them, it's abruptly obvious that she's pregnant, probably at least halfway through her pregnancy at that, and that is definitely new information. The Lady Holder makes no mention of it, and instead leans herself against the closed door and nods. "Better than ten minutes. I believe everyone is occupied, but... I can't take any chances." She can make no promises. Moonlight provides the only illumination in here, cascading through glass-paned windows. "Thank you for coming. I thought you would. I hoped. I need your help, but I need a promise that you won't tell anyone, if you refuse me, before I can explain." She lifts her chin, looking abruptly a little more like herself: confident and composed, ready to face anything.

It's a good thing that Aishani's not really one for obvious reactions, because that pregnancy is news, and might bring a question or two to mind. As it is, the goldrider's fine brows lift momentarily before she's back to her more sober mien, nodding for no chances. Even though neither woman mentions it, her lips purse briefly before she goes off to find a stool, something. "It's not much of a trip," she points out lightly, putting the kitchen step-stool she's managed to grab off to the side in case the Lady should need it. "And I know how to keep a secret." A faint smirk that disappears before she'll nod again, dark gaze serious. "I won't. I promise. But I'll hear you out before I decide anything."

Ienavi gives the stool a glance when Aishani sets it down, and for a moment, she smiles at the goldrider, though she makes no move to actually sit. "I know. That's part of why I thought of you." She seems to have anticipated the rest of what the other woman has to say, answering, "I would be concerned, frankly, if you were to approach it from any other way. Well." Her fine-boned hands twist against each other, several fingers playing with one of her rings. "Two nights ago, Ustelan dropped into a coma. I don't believe he will wake again. In fact, I suspect he will not live past this seven. He has, as you know, never presented an heir to the Conclave."

With a dark little laugh, "It has to benefit me in some way, some day." It could be argued it has; it could be argued this might not be a benefit, but still, Aishani seems amused. That doesn't last too long, though she's pleased Ienavi takes the stool-placing well, and gestures for her to continue, leaning on the counter. And she listens. It's not a shock to hear something like that about a man as old as Ustelan, so she doesn't look surprised, but her brows do begin to come together. Careful and sincere, "I am sorry for that. Both for your loss and your position. It will make things difficult, I would assume." For her.

That laugh doesn't draw a proper reaction from Ienavi, though there's something knowing in her gaze all the same, something not even her present situation - whatever the details of that are - can keep her from noting. Aishani's further reply draws a clipped nod. Then, she continues: "Ustelan was delighted when he discovered I was pregnant. He knew," she lays no undue emphasis on this, "that my child was has, could only be his, however unlikely it seems. He has not been... wholly incapacitated." How this must have been for Ienavi, her expression and tone give no suggestion. "He wished my child to be his heir. I have proof. Unfortunately," she pauses, taking in a deep breath. "Someone talked. Our Harper witness is dead. I'm afraid-- I'm afraid that I will be next." Now, one hand curves about her belly, protectively.

"Someone talked to someone that wants the Hold." Aishani believes she can safely assume that much. By her expression, the way her brows are still knit, she might be assuming more... or at least, considering it. "I believe you," she almost asides, as if it's not really a concern. "Do you think the Harper might have passed the information on to the Hall at all? Do you have any idea who it might be? And..." A pause as she glances out the window, then to Ienavi, questioningly, "Do you want to go?"

Ienavi's nod is immediate: that is what she believes, yes. She hasn't really the time and space for gratitude over the fact that she is believed, but her lips part just slightly. Then, "He may have, I don't know. I know he... lodged documents, but he swore he wouldn't tell anyone what they contained. That was the whole point. Yes-- I hoped you would agree to take me somewhere safe. I can pay my way; I won't let anyone be disadvantaged by my presence. If I don't come back tonight, I've made arrangements with people I trust to begin spreading the word - that Ustelan has named my child heir, and that I am safe. Once my child is born, I can go to the Conclave." She sounds rather more like herself, by the time she's finished that.

The goldrider considers the Lady for a time before, "Perhaps if I have word from you, some sort of note, there might be a way to ensure those reached the people they were meant to. Or determine if they did not, at least. And somewhere safe." Aishani, perhaps disturbingly, does not immediately offer the protection of High Reaches Weyr, but her reasons become apparent after another little purse of her lips as she folds her arms. "I am certain that the Weyrwoman would be happy to offer you a place at the Weyr. Would see it as our duty to protect you and your heir, as it is. But High Reaches Hold has its eyes and ears and ways into the Weyr and with two Holds down in the family so far, I'd not put a third too near to them." Suspicious. Paranoid? Maybe, but likely the person you want when someone wants to kill you. "We have connections with Greenfields, as I'm sure you do. We're close to more than one trader family, including my own." She's thoughtful there. "The Weyr is open to you, of course. And definitely when the time is closer."

"I can provide you with that," answers Ienavi, promptly, but any further comment is forestalled by the rest of what Aishani has to say: she shakes her head, quickly. "No. Not the Weyr. It would be politically inexpedient in any number of ways, as you say. I do not intend to fail, but if I do, that places your future relations with my Hold in jeopardy. Besides which, I wish to be hidden. The fewer people who know where I am, the safer my child and I are. I cannot go to Greenfields," she continues, after a moment's pause, and with obvious wistful regret. Which is to say, she cannot go to the legitimate side of Greenfields. "My father, Lord Greenfields, and my brother his heir would gladly offer me sanctuary, but again, it is too obvious. Traders-- could you take me there? I could live simply." Even if she really doesn't look it. "Honestly, I don't mind where I go, as long as I can be safe."

"Then I can make the inquiries. I can send someone less... official if you don't mind, if perhaps they're sent to ask after a particular Harper's communications, with your note? It might be best to keep things as quiet as possible." Aishani has a faint smile for the political ramifications Ienavi speaks of, admitting, "There is that as well, for all that I cannot see the Weyrwoman being overly concerned for that if your safety and that of your child is in jeopardy. Whatever the reason, perhaps it is best that I take you to my family, for now? It is simple... better than things were, certainly. But they've always stayed on the less-travelled routes, and if there's any concerns, I can speak to the Renai family about moving you there. They're entertainers as well as traders; I doubt a new person would seem out of place." Moving to the windows now to squint out, "If you think we can risk it-- and you'll move quicker than they will-- I can have Iesaryth come here. She's a bit further than either of us would like to walk, I think."

Several nods in quick succession confirm the plan to investigate the state of the Harper's communications, but it's the rest that has Ienavi's shoulders dropping with relief, some of her tension sliding away now that there's a real plan and the possibility of real safety. She slides away from the door, now, wobbling once and then straightening herself and righting her stride. "Thank you," she says, simply. "For everything. Your assistance won't be forgotten, Aishani, I assure you." Turning to the window, she peers out into the night and makes, very quietly, a decision. "I don't know that I can walk that far, whether or not we can risk the closer pickup. They say women stop feeling dreadful after the first three months, but I haven't found it so. I can move quickly, though, for a little while... have her come here. I will be so glad to leave."

If Aishani doesn't look entirely as relieved, well. She's made plans before and had those not go so well. But she doesn't darken Ienavi's situation any further with that, only assuring her likewise, "Any stories about the Vijays are likely exaggerated, and Brieli... the real Brieli, she has a son only a few turns. I wouldn't be surprised if someone's pregnant right now, to be honest." It sounds more due to the number of women, maybe, than any aspersions on their nature. As they wait and look out the window for the gold to land, the goldrider notes softly, "It'll be here when you come back, after all." A beat. "Here she is." There's barely a rustle of wings before the gold lands mostly in the shadow of the lodge, remarkably quiet for her size. She even tries to duck into the shadows more as the women open the door and head outside.

"I am not in a position to quibble or judge anyone willing to help me, even if I were inclined to such," is Ienavi's quiet response. "Perhaps it will be pleasant to be around women who do not hate me for my position, or worse: pity me for the husband that provides me said position. It can be a-- lonely life, here." She gives Aishani a long, sidelong glance as they wait, nodding her answer and looking, briefly, deeply determined. That she's a little over-awed by Iesaryth's size is something that displays in her expression for only a moment, and even then, is likely largely hidden by the shadows. Despite that, she's an easy passenger, carrying with her nothing more than what she has tucked into her cloak, and clearly not inexperienced at riding dragons... just not gold ones. She looks back only once, her hand tucked around her belly again.

Aishani's look in return is understanding; hate, she understands. Pity, that too. If all for different reasons. Still, there's no time to linger, though she'll tell Ienavi as they head out, "I doubt they will. And if you want to be sure, be someone else. Safer, perhaps." It's not as if she can throw stones for using another name, and she might have a point about safety besides. Iesaryth, for her part, isn't ashamed of how big she is, but does her level best to be non-threatening and doesn't move when Ienavi climbs up. Aishani's used to the odd passenger, so the ride is likewise easy, especially given Iesaryth's lazy lift into the skies, slow wingbeats. There's lots of time for the warning before they go between, and the gold's spiral down is enough to rouse someone at the fire down in the small camp below. The Vijays are not all precisely warm with their erstwhile daughter, but they are used to the dragon, and do have sympathy for the situation Ienavi... or whatever her name... is in -- pregnant and in need of protection. They certainly understand what it is to be on the run. When everything has been arranged, the goldrider takes the other woman aside, still serious. "You'll send word the same way if you need anything?"

Ienavi doesn't say anything in response to that idea of using another name, but by the time they land near the Vijay camp, she has apparently taken the suggestion on board, introducing herself as "Ana". She's lost some of the cultured refinement in her tone, somehow, though there's no way to hide her clothes, or that her hands have surely never seen a day's work. Taken aside, Ienavi nods. "I will. Aishani-- thank you. If there's anything that I can do for you, now or in the future, please-- all you need to do is ask."

There's only a nod in response to the offer, a grim little quirk of her lips. Perhaps Aishani would rather Ienavi get through all this before she thinks of calling in favors. Still, an echo, "I will." With a glance back to the fire, "I doubt anyone will look for you here, but... there's enough people that can protect you here if they do. I'll come by in a seven or so, to let you know what's happening." What people are saying. "Take care, Ana." She has to grin at that. "Don't let them work you too hard." Iesaryth has a rumble for the Lady Holder in hiding as her rider mounts up, and with a lift of her hand for a farewell, they're up and away into the darkened skies.



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