She made her way into the dining hall, waiting for the Warrenladies to find
their way inside, Davavin finally informing her rider that Waylene had
begged off for
the evening to rest.

	**And how long have you known of this?**  She thought ruefully, munching
on some fresh vegetables.

	<You needed to eat anyway.  Does it make a difference?>

	**Humph.  How is Mother?**

	<Wonderful!>  The glee was evident in her friend's tone, causing Nefiri to
grin.

	**I'm sure it is, love.**  She dropped the vegetable onto her plate, her mind
betraying her for just a moment.  It must be nice to be able to see one's
mother, to be
enclosed in her embrace after so long...

	<Beloved?> the dragon asked, concerned suddenly at the turn of her rider's
thoughts.

	**Eh?  I'm fine.**  She paused, thoughtful.  **Dee, ask around and find out
who manages the gamblers' habits within the warren.**

	She finished her meal while she waited for Danavin to schmooze the very
dragons whose company she had been so diligently shunning, a smirk on her face. 
Rather more quickly than she had anticipated, the answer came.

	<There is a woman with a shop in the crafthall who handles such things.>  A
rather fragmented image of the woman, presumably passed through several beasties
before reaching Danavin, was fixed in her mind.

	Nefiri left the dining hall, waving to Danavin and the golden queen whose side
she had not left as she passed outside and went toward the crafthall.

	Despite the fragmented images, she was able to determine where the flux of the
crowd was concentrated, spotted an older woman in a heated discussion with a
rider.

	"I *told* you already, I haven't *set* the tables for the next mating
flight yet, so
I *can't* give you any odds.  We've had several new riders transfer into the
warren and
the reports on them haven't come in."  She exhaled in frustration.

	"But you've got a series of odds to bet on whether or not a mating flight will
disrupt the trial proceedings!  If you don't have any histories, how can you
run an
option like that?"

	"Those odds are based on the number of females in the warren, which I *do*
know, and how many of those females have risen in the last six months at Daere,
which I *also* know.  We gained one female rider while losing two, so even
though
the one is an unknown it will offset the pool loss.  It's different."

	The man growled.

	"But HOW....."

	The woman raised a hand sharply, cutting him off.

	"It's not my fault if you're too stupid to understand the abstract of
probabilities. 
Either place your bets or quit wasting my time."

	He glared, silent for a moment, then slapped down some silver pieces.  The
woman scooped it up, made a notation in a ledger, and deposited the silver
into a
hidden vesicle behind her counter.

	Nefiri pressed her way forward to take the spot left vacant by the departing
rider, leaned forward on the counter top.

	"Yes?"  the woman asked.

	"Hi.  I was wondering what the odds were on the outcome of Tair'n's trial."

	The woman pointed to chalkboard on the wall to Nefiri's right, a series of
scenarios and their odds scrawled hastily across it.  She spotted the trial
interruption by
mating flight scenario that had so perplexed the previous better, saw that
the woman
had broken it into a spread sheet of how far along into the trial such a
thing might
occur.  There were odds for Tair'n being found guilty or innocent, that he
would leave
of his own volition before the trial, and that Jayleigh would cancel the
trial before it
began.  There had been odds as to which Warrenlady would serve as the arbiter,
allowing her to see how it had paid off for some of the betters.  Further
down there
were projections about how those closest to Tair'n would react to the
outcome, given
one verdict or the other.

	"You certainly take a lot of scenarios into consideration."  She commented.

	"I suppose it's too abstract for you to understand, too, right?"

	"Oh, hardly.  In fact, if I may say so, you forgot to include odds on Tair'n
suiciding before the end of the trial."  The woman arched an eyebrow.

	"Tair'n's a dragonrider.  It's hardly likely that will happen."

	"Oh, I dunno.  Given what's happened to Cal'an and Danika because of this
mess, he's liable to feel responsible in some way.  Might be just enough to
push him on
over the edge."

	The woman looked at the board a moment, then back at Nefiri, who could tell
the seed she'd planted had quickly taken root.  Bookkeepers rarely passed up any
opportunity to take a gambler's money.

	"You wanting to place a bet on that sort of scenario?"

	"Me?  Nah.  Actually, I was more interested in lowering the payoff for one of
the possible outcomes."

	"Oh.  One of those types, I see.  Well, I'm not interested in wasting my
time, so
if you want to keep taking it you'd better show me some put-up or shut-up."
Nefiri
grinned, unhooking the money pouch from her belt, and gently upended it on
the table. 
A handful of gold coins came tinkling out, the bookkeeper's face turning
predatory.

	"What did you have in mind?"

	"I want to flood the pool on Tair'n being found guilty.  Bring the odds down to
2-1, or so."

	"You've got to be joking!"  Nefiri shook her head no.

	"I'm quite serious."

	"And what's in it for me?"

	"How much do you want?"

	"Twenty pieces, handler's fee."

	"Ha!  Ten, maybe."

	"Eighteen."

	"Twelve."

	"Sixteen."

	"Done," Nefiri agreed, counting out the sixteen pieces.  "I take it there's
enough
here to accomplish the task at hand?"

	"Oh, aye, it'll do."  She took her money with the same ferocity, her other hand
hovering over the rest.  "I'm Loudre."

	"Nefiri, rider of Danavin."  She dropped her voice to an amused whisper.  "The
new female rider."

	"Heard that exchange, did you?"  Loudre grinned.  "Not that it matters. 
Anyone with this kind of funding knows how these things are played."

	"A bit.  You understand what I want done, Loudre?"

	"Yes.  You want to piss off some folks, namely the ones who've been angling
for this trial in the first place."

	"That's how these things are played."

	"Do you want them to know who's pissing them off?"  The redhead paused; did
she care if the warren knew?

	"No secrets.  But don't volunteer anything, either."  Loudre nodded, began
picking up the money.  "I'll find you if I need you for anything."

	Nefiri turned to leave the woman to her business, feeling quite smug with
herself.  She was walking away when she realized that the man leaning
against the
doorway was looking squarely at her, grinning widely.  He was slightly
tallker than
she, fair complected with a light beard.

	"Do I know you?"  She asked, smiling back.

	"I'm T'rell, rider of Flerrion.  And that, dear Red, was a decidedly wicked
thing
you just did."

(tag: John <eg>)

******************
(next morning, breakfast)

	Nefiri entered the dining hall, dressed simply in light-colored trousers and a
leather vest dyed to match.  Danavin had warned her that some of the dragons
were
already talking about their rider's reactions, which ranged from amused to
angry,
though noone had actually approached her on it just yet.

	Movement from the side attracted her attention, and she found herself face to
face with the golden queen's rider.

	>"Good morning, Nefiri."

	"Lady Waylene," she paused.  "Danavin had informed me of your arrival." 
There was a moment of awkwardness, and then they both began to laugh as they
embraced.

	"It's good to see you,"  Nefiri said as they separated.

	"And you.  I thought you were at Telnor?"

	"We were.  We recently transferred here."  Waylene nodded in understanding.

	"Come, sit with me a moment."

	She followed Waylene to the table she had been sitting, greeted the others
there.  She frowned when she noticed the distorted coloring of Jaidan's
face, but said
nothing.

	"So, Waylene, you know this imp?"  Realee smiled, passing Nefiri a biscuit
wrapped in a napkin.

	"A bit."  She sent a sidelong glance at the redhead.  "Already been showing
your true colors?"

	"Certainly you're not insinuating anything!"  Nefiri laughed, breaking off a
piece of the biscuit.

	"No, no, please insinuate.  I've been fascinated with this one ever since she
raided my kitchen at the wee hours of the morning."

	"You raided Grandma's kitchen?"  Jaidan's eyes widened.

	"Traded labor for an early breakfast, is more like it.  At least, that's what I
recall.  She made *me* work for it!"  Nefiri winked at the younger boy, who
grinned,
replying:

	"She makes everybody who goes into her kitchen work, whether you're there
for food or not!"

	Jayleigh laughed, ruffled Jaidan's hair as Realee tried to look stern, but
without
much success.

	"You're the rider who helped R'ven the other day, aren't you?"  He asked.

	"Helped R'ven how?"  Jayleigh asked, looking from her son to Nefiri.

	"Oh, just a little public relations matter," she waved her hand dismissively. 
"How do you know about that?"

	"I heard the dragons talking about it," he shrugged.  "Too bad you couldn't
have
been there to help Cal'an."  His eyes turned down.

	<Help comes in many guises, Jaidan.  Not all of them are easily recognized.> 
Danavin intoned.  The boy met Nefiri's eyes again, but said nothing.

	"I can see that my queen hasn't been keeping me informed of all the gossip,"
Jayleigh said, concerned.

	"It's nothing new or important, M'Lady, I promise," Nefiri assured her.

	"Yes, well," Realee interjected, a concerned glance at her grandson the only
indication of her desire to redirect the conversation.  "What is this about
true colors,
Waylene?  I'm aware that this imp acquired her kitchen-raiding skills at
Marrid, but not
much else."

	"Oh, just that this one has been a source of mischief since the day she
joined. 
Always turning up with a finger or toe in the most unlikely places."

	Nefiri coughed, her cheeks turning slightly crimson, a pleading look at the
woman to not say any more.

	But the interest had already been piqued, a willing Waylene relating a tale
of a
newly joined dragonrider being caught in a compromising position with a
wingleader
in the previous Warrenlady's office.

	"I would have never known they were there, but as I turned to leave I spotted a
bright red toenail peeking out from beneath some drapery!" she laughed, Nefiri
lowering her head into her hand.  "She turned such a bright shade of red, I
took pity on
them both and didn't say anything!"

	"At least, until now!" the redhead retorted.

	"Well, I'll be sure to lock the door to my office in the future," Jayleigh
commented wryly.  They all laughed when Nefiri groaned.

	"I think I hear my mom calling," she quipped, raising her head and looking
toward the exit comically.

	Jayleigh sat back in her chair, one hand on her stomach, the other on the back
of her son's chair, her laughter subsiding as she cocked her head.

	"Vicktroy says I'm requested at the med center."  She sobered, Jaidan giving
her a sudden, worried glance.  "Not too worry," she tried to comfort,
standing and
pushing her chair in.

	"Can I come too?" he asked.  Jayleigh hesitated, then nodded.

	"Waylene, I'll see you in a bit," she said.  A quick nod to Nefiri and Realee,
and she and Jaidan were away.

	"I need to go, too," Nefiri said, rising.  Without any fanfare of her own, she
departed.

**********************

Well, OKAY.  Let the trial begin.

Barb, I figured Jayleigh's day wouldn't be complete without a visit to the
med center. 
It's become such a trademark for her and her lovers.

Kris, even if there aren't windows in the Warrenlady's office, maybe the
previous one
wanted to cover some bare walls or something? <g>

I also figured that given the natural female inclination to enhance beauty,
some form of
makeup products are available in the DL, including nail polish.  Not too much
technology there, esp if they can paint furniture and houses.

John, as if you didn't have enough to do already, right?  <eg>

Sorry for the formatting.  Still can't figure out why it does that.

nik



*******************************************
To be happy with a man you must understand him a lot and love him a
little.  To be happy with a woman you must love her a lot and not 
try to understand her at all.