[Telven, evening, day 8]

He watched a fair-haired girl sleep, her freshly washed hair shimmering
brightly in the firelight.  She hadn't woken since Papurri's herbalist had
given her a sleeping draught the previous night, putting an end to the
girl's incoherent struggles.  He'd dropped a handful of gold into Papurri's
hand and taken the unconscious wench with him, and Papurri asked no
questions, knowing that whatever fate held in store for the girl, she'd done
her best -- or at least as much as any abbess might have done.  The little
blonde was obviously highborn and could have commanded  a high price from
the tradesmen -- and worse -- who'd always wanted to fuck a noblewoman.

Particularly when she wasn't willing.

Telven toyed with setting her to that purpose himself.  Beneath the
bruising, she had a lovely figure; lush lips that begged to be kissed -- or
bitten... lips that looked like they knew things, wicked things, that the
rest of her didn't know anything about.

Eyes opened, revealing crystal-blue orbs that studied him with a brittle
calm.  Idly, Telven wondered what they saw.  A tall, dark man in rich
velvets, sprawled carelessly against the expensive cushions of a
chaise-longue?  Did she see the calculations in his eyes, the darkness he
embraced quite willingly, the human misery he lived to exploit?

His lips quirked, almost hearing Lady Katla Vaddon's voice in his mind.  A
bright angel in the darkness of the slums; mistress of orphanages and
schools that actually *taught* the lower classes, fought for their souls and
minds.  Roundly hated by nearly everyone in the underworld, they still held
her in awe, wondering vaguely what their worlds would have been like if she
had been around when they were children.

Unlike so many of the others, Telven didn't hate the ministering angel of
the Vaddon Estates.  In his way, he loved her -- even wanted to please
her -- and so, this girl rested, clean and comfortable on silk sheets,
modestly dressed in heavy satin night clothes instead of screaming beneath
the weight of a thousand men who would find her soft and unblemished skin a
fascination worthy of whatever monies they could gather.

"My lady, I see that you are awake."

She flinched slightly at his velvet tones, saying nothing.  A smart girl, it
seemed, to know that no matter how elegant the bower, it could easily be a
prison.

"Lady Raine, I have sent a message this very day to an acquaintance of
mine -- a wealthy one -- who will be most interested in your presence here."

"Who?"

"A member of a... noble family."  He smiled gently, admiring that she kept
her fear behind her eyes, expression neutral bordering on ennui.

"Really.  How do you know who I am?"

"A lovely blonde woman, with soft hands that have never seen a day of work
beyond idle stichery?  One who is openly rumored to run from her brother
after having been caught with several as-yet-unnamed servants in her bed,
servicing them for an undisclosed -- yet rumored to be high -- price.  The
tales flying about this city have you as being one of the most talented
whores in the city, and men from all walks of life have claimed to share
your bed."  He looked her in the eye.  "Not that I believe it.  I would have
known if there was a noble working her way through the city for fun and
profit."

"Oh, my Gods."

"It's also rumored that you offered to bed your own brother to keep him
silent about your little pastime.  He and his roommate, Keltian Vaddon, have
offered a small fortune for your return, that they might properly 'chastise'
you.  Public sentiment is, of course, on their side, since it seems that no
one wants a whore in their family."  His voice reflected on the seeming
injustice of that.  "Not that most of the finer families seem to care if
their men visit such women.  Odd."

Raine turned green and Telven languidly stood, lifting a bucket to place
before her face as she lost what bile there was in her stomach, and stood by
her as she shuddered through dry heaves.

"Fortunately for you, I've sent a message to someone who does not mind the
company of whores, and -- indeed -- will undoubtedly do something about it."

"Who have you sent for?"

"La Belle Fortuna, my dear child.  La Belle Fortuna..."

[Tag, Barb]

-----
[Katla]

"Come on, love, it's time to go home."  Kanler's arm wrapped around her
waist as Katla signed off on the last few forms.

"I'm almost finished."  Katla said softly, turning over the last page and
handing it to the mayor of Killaglen.  She turned weary eyes to the man,
silently asking if there was any more that she could do.  He reached out and
patted her hand.

"Go home, child.  The damage is not so great as it might have been -- I am
grateful for your quick thinking."

Katla smiled tiredly.  "I am glad we could be of service, despite the
tragedy at the Warren."

"Your help was invaluable, my dear.  Be sure, news of this outrage will not
go unheard of.  Poisoning dragons!  Such an act put all of us in danger!"

"It is horrible, sir,"  Katla nodded.  "We'll be back in a few days to see
if there is anything else the Warren can do to help."

"Thank you, my dear."


-----
[Derry]

"I need to speak to the WarrenLady," W'lam told him, and Derry moved to
block the older rider's path.

"Not right now."

"Look --"

"W'lam, my mate's mother is currently catatonic due to the loss of her
dragon, and they are giving one another comfort.  Whatever you need to say,
you can tell me, and I'll bring it up to her when she is ready and able to
deal with your problem.  Now, what do you need?"

"First off, we need to pull riders back.  They are much more vulnerable
spread out as they are."

Derry studied W'lam.  "And you wanted to talk to Trinale about that?  I'm in
charge of Wing assignments.  If you have a way for us to patrol at our
reduced wing strength without putting riders in danger, I'm listening."

"Wingleader, you apparently lost a rider during the attack at Killaglen, and
another has ridden off alone."

Derry began swearing.  "Who?"

"Oldreth, I think."

"Damnit.  Typical.  That's not a security problem, that's a 'Oldreth can't
conform to Warren expectations,' standard response."  Derry sighed, suddenly
understanding Katla's impatience with the male queenrider.  "Look, despite
what you may think, I *am* concerned about security.  But the fact we are
under attack does not abrogate our responsibilities.  I can't just pull
everyone into the Warren and fortify it."

"Look, the danger --"

"W'lam, you are not the only person who cares about this issue," Derry
snapped, tired of the attitude.  "If you want to help, then come up with
viable ways for us to do our job and keep the Warren safe.  You might also
remember that this has never happened before in the history of our lands.
Kindly respect that most here are not used to having to worry about
security.  Innocence is not the same thing as stupidity."

"You are used to it,"  W'lam said shrewdly.  "Why haven't you made changes?"

"Yes.  But I'm LandBorn, and noble.  I was raised to worry about bandits and
enemies, political and otherwise.  Trinale wasn't, and doesn't see things
the same way.  She hasn't understood why I am paranoid about certain things,
nor is that surprising.  And I have made changes, W'lam.  Just because you
didn't see them doesn't mean that they weren't made."

"It's obvious more changes need to be made."

"Yes.  And I'm working on it, but the measures won't be popular."  He looked
at W'lam directly.  "Least of all with Trinale, I suspect.  Now, is there
anything else I can do for you?"

"I was thinking that it would help if someone could look at the cart...
perhaps the horses, we might be able to identify where they came from."

Derry nodded.  "Best ask Katla, then.  I'm not certain if she's back from
Killaglen..."

"Oh, I'm back, Derry," came an exhausted voice.  "What do you need?"

"Katla --"

"No, Kanler.  Duty first.  What do we need?"

"An examination of the cart that brought the poisoned coal."

"Why me?"

"The horses..."

She laughed tiredly.  "Oh, of course."

"You're better at identifying horses than I."

"Wonder why?" his sister said ironically.  "How is Trinale doing?"

"Her mother still hasn't woken...  They're all taking it very hard."

Katla nodded, dark eyes like shadowed holes in a pale face.  "I'll come by
and visit later.  W'lam, shall we?"


-----
[Katla]

"Quit fussing!"  Katla glared at her mate for a moment, though she was
exhausted and swaying slightly on her crutches.  Slowly, very slowly, she
walked around the draft horses.  "Hmmm.  Looks like Big Jeb's line."

"Big Jeb?" asked W'lam.

"A show horse from the Calarais stables.  We mostly breed racers, but they
do more in the line of show and occasional draft horses."  Katla crooned to
the two horses.  "Poor dears.  I think they've only been recently broken to
harness... I don't think they were originally trained as cart horses at
all."

"What then?"

"Show horses... Kanler, go get Flit's saddle, will you?"

"What?"

"I'm curious about something... please?"

Grumbling, her mate wandered into the stable, returning with the requested
bit of leather.  Taking it from him, she saddled one of the horses, and
mounted.  The horse responded to the lightest touches and she guided her
through her paces.  With Kanler's help, she dismounted and frowned.

"They are most assuredly blooded show horses, probably from the Calarais
stables." Katla announced flatly.  "Unfortunately, there's no way to prove
exactly where they came from.  Anyone could have purchased them, and they
don't have their papers..."


-----
[Derry]

"Derry, I have been thinking. You were right. Do anything necessary to help
make this warren safe. Even if you have to turn it into an unfriendly
fortress until these people are caught.  Do what you have to."

He held her tightly.  "Oh, Trinale."

<... morning ...>

"From now on, tithe trains will need to have extensive paperwork, and will
have to be checked before entering the Warren proper.  Nothing extraneous
will be allowed in.  Riders need to inform us when they leave -- for patrol
or whatever other purpose and when they are expected back...  And I want
everyone to take a partner with them if they go into town, at least for
now."

Katla grunted.  "Saul'll be thrilled with that."

"I'm surprised at you."

"Me?  What, you think Kanler would let me?"  His sister's lips quirked
upward.  "That won't stop everyone, you know."

"You have a better suggestion?"

"No.  But that doesn't deal with the woods, hills and vales.  There's no
good way to patrol all of it, we just don't have the manpower..."  Katla
handed him a list of figures.  "As it is, we can only barely fill the
patrols, and people are going to be doing double and triple shifts."

He caught the slightly malicious smile and he took a look at the roster
she'd put together.  Gwyna was going to be one busy lady.

"My, my.  Vindictive, aren't we?"

"Not really, her load isn't really any worse than anyone elses...  And if
she bitches, she can check my duty roster and quit bitching."

He laughed.

"Now, you said you had an idea about Oldreth?"

"Yes.  You know that Oldreth seems completely incapable of considering that
queens aren't supposed to be in combat."

"Yes, I've noticed."

"Well, with Trinale's permission, I think it would be reasonable for him to
train with the ground sub-wing -- it's marginally safer, and if Oldreth is
just going to show up, then we may as well put him to use."

"Why does that sound remarkably like what Da said the third time we found
you out with the horse-breakers?"

She grinned cheekily at him.

"So what do we do about the woods?"

"Same as for town.  And strangers need to be quartered where we can keep
track of them.  Everyone needs to keep an eye out for people they don't know
and report them when they see 'em."

"Trinale'll hate that."

"Not necessarily -- make it an occasion when people come to visit, a small
party, we get to know the new faces, and people keep an eye out for people
where they don't belong."

"You'd be happier if we didn't let people in."

"Well, yeah, but we can't do that."


NRPG --
Okay, basically, Derry's saying that everyone needs to check in when they
leave the Warren, with some idea of when he and Trinale ought to get worried
if they don't come back.  He's not instituting curfews or anything like
that.

He'll also send messengers to the lords and cities indicating the increased
security he wants on caravans, which works out to "we know where everything
originated, we know who has handled it, and if it causes a problem, we know
who to yell at."


Respectfully submitted,
Jill E. Flansburg
Katla and Derry
Whiteriver Warren
DragonLands

             X-FILES                         DRAGONLANDS
Director, X-Files Division           Rhiannon, WarrenLady  *Xylian*
Sterling Kincaid, TL, ECHO           Elswyth and Aedra   *Keldarra*
Damien Cunningham, Forensics         Katla and Satinka *Whiteriver*
Xan X. Xavier, Trainer               Zera and Mazel       *Norwall*

                        Visit the XFRPG Web Site:
                http://www.steele.ml.org/~wiggly/xfiles/

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   CS HMC 1994                      |  jflansbu@muddcs.cs.hmc.edu
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