The Pretender Chronicles - The worth of sacrifice

Yussef

Without, the day is newborn. Shadows of towers, walls and domes shrink in a creeping manner, growing shorter and shorter by the moment as the sun rises over the east -- though one can not see it, not from here, for these windows face the west. Past days\' rain oozes from the sun-gilded rooftops, pillars of mist rising thin here and there, dispersing at length. And the city of the corsairs is wide awake, its comings and goings but a whisper here, muffled by the thick walls.

The guards, two by two by the door stand in quiet converse, their words southron, like they themselves tall and dark of countenance all. The patrol has made pause there for the nonce, it seems.

Their converse seems of a light nature.

[Ceredir(#1394)]

A basket of southern fruits, gift from another day, still stands in the main room, the fragrance of the ripening fruits deepening every day in the heat. By this stands the Master Scout, helping himself to an early breakfast in the quiet of the morn.

[Sawsan(#20113)] With her clothes and her hair, in fact her whole self neat as a pin, Sawsan exits the room assigned to her and steps out, her hands smoothing from her waist to her hips for a moment before folding demurely before her.

Walking up to Ceredir, she dips her head to him, \"Good morn to you, Sir. Did sleeep find you?\"

Yussef

The door then swings ajar, and the guards heads swing thither, eyes narrowed in suspicion, converse ceasing.

The figure who comes within is neither tall nor stout, in any sense of the word, however. Yussef \'tis, and his attire differs somewhat from his colleagues in color and ornament. The Tower Sergeant comes, strangely unarmed. His black glance fleets over the interior of the hallway, \'ere turning on the four southron men.

His speech is quiet in its temper.

[Ceredir(#1394)]

\"It did not, alas, but it matters little. I used the time to think of things of great import. And how fare you?\" Ceredir asks, popping a grape into his mouth.

Pausing in this light discussion, he turns to the door, and, when Yussef enters, he bows slightly.

\"Sergeant, if it can be asked, I require your assistance in a matter. Though it is of no urgency and of course your new duties come first.\"

Sawsan

Sawsan admits to Ceredir, \"The inactivity is makeing me a little fidgety. I long to search for the possible cures.\" Then Yussef enters and Ceredir\'s attention wavers, as does hers. She dips her head deeply to the young man, allowing her body to shift into a gentle little curtsy as well. More respect for the man than ever.

Yussef

At the interruption, Yussef\'s gaze sweeps toward the watchman of Ithilien -- halting first by Sawsan, if briefly, neck lightly bent in acknowledgement of her greeting -- under an arched brow. \"I will have time for you in a moment, Master Scout. Please, enjoy your collation.\" His common is yet unsure, and strangely bent.

He turns back to the guardsmen, whose glances linger awry on Ceredir, resuming the conversation in between them.

[Ceredir(#1394)]

A nod to the southron Sergeant and Ceredir turns attention to the woman once more. \"Do you know what you will say to Lord Alphros? Let me warn you that he will demand proof of your sincerity.\"

Sawsan

Sawsan looks a tiny bit startled, \"Proof that I am here looking for possible cures for poisons? How does one proov that?\" She sighs, her small body tensing up with the passion rising behind her grey eyes. \"I want nothing more than to find something to counteract the poisons hurtled at our people.\"

[<#1394>]

\'Nay,\' Ceredir says, turning back to the fruit basket and taking now a slice of melon, which he eats while speakign, the whole thing causing him, perhaps, to speak lower so as not to spit melon at the woman. \"..., ... -...- ... ... here? Why ... ... ... ... ... ... ... our ...? Why ... ... ... that?\" The Master Scout pauses and picks up a napkin to wipe his chin, now dripping with fruit juice. \'Lord Alphros wishes to know that you are sincere in coming here, and will likely want to know why you came here specifically. And that your intentions are honorable.\'

Sawsan

Sawsan blinks very slowly and stares at Ceredir as if he\'s grown a second head. Her voice, unlike his, does not lower. She speaks in the same gentle tone she always does, even if she seems a little confused by him. \"Would you not risk your life for one of your own? Just one of your friends, one of your family.. one of your people? How can I not take a chance that I might die, if I might find a possible cure for a poison that is used against many?\" She shakes her head slightly. \"I would gladly hand over my life if it would save one.. let alone many.\"

[<#1394>]

\"Not good enough.\" In between a large bite of a plum, Ceredir mumbles his words, shaking his head, voice sounding harsh. \"... ... ... ... why you -...- ... ... to Umbar when ... ... and leeches ... ... ... ... ... ... ... .... ... will ... ....\" More bites of the fruit, hungrily.

\'I see,\' is all he then adds, shrugging lightly.

Sawsan

Sawsan crinkles her brow just a tiny bit more, the grey of her eyes deepening to a stormy hue now, then she lifts her chin and straightens her back, the \'storm\' in her eyes clearing to that soft, gentle grey again. The lines between her brows clear again and she gifts Ceredir with a tiny little smile. \"If it is not enough, then my life is forfeit likely, for it is the truth. I am not a good liar.\" She laughs oh so shortly, actually finding some amusement in the situation.

\"Does the fruit please your pallet?\" She asks the Master Scout out of the blue.

[Ceredir(#1394)]

\"Perhaps it will be good enough. I hope so for your sake. For all our sakes,\" Ceredir shrugs, pushing away the basket of fruit. \"But I warn you now that the Farside Lord will want proof of your sincerity before you will attain what you came for. It is what has kept me awake this past night: I do not know how to prove to him that my intentions are true I do not know how to offer him a sacrifice that will attest to my honor and lack of deception. For this is why we are held here--he does not trust us.\"

\"The fruit is bittersweet. It was brought by a man who wanted to give me a slave girl--take her to a better life in Gondor.\"

Sawsan

Sawsan lowers her brow slightly, \"Proof.. proof..\" she looks around the room at those present, her fellow Gondorians, at the people that are not her own, yet physically so much the same. Color not withstanding. She returns her attention back to Ceredir, her expression shifting to one that fairly whispers \'she\'s got something in her head, beware!\'

Then Sawsan smiles again, feigning that polite conversation expression and doing a bad job of it, \"Did you decline the girl?\"

[Ceredir(#1394)]

\"Of course I declined the girl!\" Ceredir answers irritably. \"I am not about to bring an innocent woman to her death in Gondor. Or even a not so innocent woman. The whole thing was idiotic to begin with,\" he then sighs. \"I cannot understand why that foolish man even offered such a thing.\"

Yussef

A nod is shared amongst all five of the tower guard over yonder, as their converse ceases.

\"Master Ceredir,\" Yussef says then, voice impassive yet hospitable, even upon coming further within, toward the man and girl of the north who stand yonder by the fruit. \"He was trying to offer her a better life. Here, it is likely he will sell her to some brothel or other, if nothing worse. Now,\" he pauses, hands clasping.

\"What can I help you with?\"

Sawsan

Sawsan is saved from further conversation with the prickly Scout by the arrival of the Captain. Saw dips her head to him and murmurs, \"I will retire to the room assigned me, Gentlemen.\" And turns to limp back to that room.

[Ceredir(#1394)]

\"I could not offer her such a thing,\" Ceredir says with regret as Sawsan takes her leave. \"If I could have done anything at all to help her, I would have..but Gondor would mean her death. That would have been better, perhaps?\"

He exhales slowly, giving his head a small shake as if to put that thought behind him. \"A sacrifice. Fit for a king. What shall I do?\"

Yussef

Glance strayed to the disappearance of the limping woman, a crease on his brow, Yussef answers:

\"I would suggest you offer him your tongue for past lipservice,\" And his black eyes turn on Ceredir then, level for a momentary intermission, \'ere his lips curl -- for it is a jest, surely -- and he continues:

\"But you may need it to service him now, eh?\"

[Ceredir(#1394)]

For a moment, Ceredir stares, taking the Sergeant seriously, likely. Then he relaxes, just a little, shaking his head. \"As much as there is a propensity in these circumstances to extract the price of my past dishonor from my flesh, it works against the purpose of Lord Alphros now to do so. For if I return to Gondor maimed in any way, there will be questions as to how the wound came about and where and why. And the men of Gondor are such that they will see through any lies surrounding the answer, thereby preventing me from furthering the King\'s cause. For I will be dead and immediately so.\"

\"Money I deem would be a dishonorable gift, and I have none to offer. I would offer my blade in service, but Captain Azradi has said no. What else is there?\"

Yussef

The furrow deepens.

\"Pro...pensity? What is the meaning of this word?\"

Yet, \'ere an answer can be given, the new-made sergeant speaks more, and it seems he is not amused any longer, tone lowered somewhat. He does not yet speak of the question at hand however: \"I would ask that you do speak of of Alphros as \'King\' in the presence of his men -- and certainly not in the presence of folk not of Farside, such guests as we may have here. Already it has sown doubts as to his purpose here something we can ill afford. Speak of him as lord.\"

\"Understood?\"

[Ceredir(#1394)]

\"Yes, my apologies,\" Ceredir says, lips pressed together as he looks to the guards with some concern. \"The Farside Lord.\" He frowns.

\"Propensity--a trend or a tendency.\"

Yussef

The black glance lingers on Ceredir\'s complexion during a tentative silence.

But then, Yussef lets his hands fall to his sides, and his brow smoothens as he strides to the windows looking out. \"Your sacrifice to the Lord Alphros should be a thing you value above all others, would you agree?\"

\"It need perhaps not be a limb, but such wounds may be explained all the same -- An injury of the sea, or exercise perhaps.\"

\'Ere a brief moment, the sergeant of the Guard adds: \"And it need not be a lie -- for you have come by the sea, eh?\"

[Ceredir(#1394)]

\"Yes, agreed. And an injury during training could suffice as explanation. Though...not a limb. I have no more to spare without rendering me an ineffective fighter for the Lord\'s cause.\"

Ceredir follows the Sergeant to the windows, though he is restless, looking out and then to the southron once and again. \"But what do I value above all else...my life, perhaps, but that will do no good. My honor and the family name I should have, but that also proves nothing to the Farside Lord and it is not a tangible thing that can be sacrificed. And of course, my ....\"

Ceredir pales, swallows hard. \"My wife.\"

Yussef

The sidelong glance afforded the master scout then is brief, but a perplexed one all the same narrowed under a high perched and creased brow, lips slightly ajar.

Yussef looks away within a breath\'s time, sucking in air through the nose, and his mien settles, thus half hid, the corner of his mouth bent upward and his eyes remain narrowed as they look now to the waking city far below. \"I thought your people did not trade with the lives of others.\"

[Ceredir(#1394)]

\"We do not,\" Ceredir says. \"But you asked what I value above all else, and that is my honest answer. And....I am in your lands, not mine. But...but come...her life is not mine to offer in sacrifice, and likely I will insult Lord Alphros by thinking of such. An injury? I have many scars as it is what would be another. I would gladly suffer such.\"

Yussef

\"Then that will not do,\" Yussef answers only.

[Ceredir(#1394)]

\"Then what?\" Ceredir says, frustration rising. \"And if I have naught to offer, then what? What will become of me or us?\"

Yussef

The answer is spoken in that same hospitable tone as Yussef has maintained throughout -- politely measured, but devoid of anything else.

\"If you have nothing to offer your Lord, you are of no use to him, eh?\" The consequences of such an end need not be uttered, for it is known full well already. The sergeant turns but his head to regard Ceredir, and his face bears no expression when he does. \"Perhaps the hostage of wife is a fitting price. If you serve him well, she will live. And if you decieve him...\"

The sentence is left hanging. After a moment:

\"But perhaps that will not be enough.\"

[Ceredir(#1394)]

\"Leave my wife here as hostage and possibly a slave? To...to be sold into a brothel, perhaps?\" Ceredir pales again, shaking his head. \"How could I do such a thing? She...she would hate me and I would hate myself...though...Lord Farside would protect her as long as I am not deceitful? Yes?\"

\"And...how can that be not enough? I would rather sell myself into slavery ..even slavery to the East than leave her here. What if Lord Alphros should fall? Then what becomes of her?\"

Yussef

Again, the young sergeant\'s eyebrows rise. \"As I told you before,\" He says, each word spoken with measured care so as to not be confused, \"We of Farside do not deal in slaves.\"

\"Were my words not correct?\"

[Ceredir(#1394)]

\"So she will not be a slave...but a hostage to my good behavior. How could that possibly not be enough? I...an arm...I could offer my left arm,\" though Ceredir winces as he says that. \"How long would she be hostage here? How could I redeem her?\"

Yussef

Glance fleeting to the outside world, beheld with a complexion that seems troubled for a time, silence punctuates the converse then, as Yussef considers his reply. Seagulls circle high and low above the natural harbor that may be spied in part to the north, now diving, now rising on the currents of the winds -- these are what hold the Sergeant\'s thoughtful regard.

\"That is between you and Lord Azulada,\" he concedes after a while. \"You are not loved here, and your offering should reflect that it should indeed.\"

\"I will leave you to consider your choices.\"

He pivots then, striding toward the door with no further word.