Post by Memorie on Feb 11, 2007 17:45:14 GMT -5
((A-Searchriding!))
K'leren signaled his wing to land. In the Courtyard, where many golds could touch down comfortably, the bronzerider had no problem landing his greens, blues, and bronzes. "Alright, riders! Keep a Search eye out and we'll return with candidates in absolutely no time. Here we go!"
Ponaa's Lord, Rakken, marched out of his Hold. "Bronzerider K'leren, how good to see you," he said to the rider, all saccharine. The Lord Holder had not forgotten the altercation at the Weyrwoman's hatching. If only the wingsecond knew Ponaa's own Lord was responsible for the mishap with the junior Weyrwoman's clutch...Rakken's smile widened. And Ista had been so easy to pull into the plan. Istan riders, with all their anti-social and hateful ways, had been simple to manipulate into stealing Weyr eggs. And now, those eggs, including the Ponaasian gold egg, were warming on Istan's own heated sands. Things were looking up.
K'leren noticed the oddness in Rakken's voice. The Lord seemed all too pleased. "Lord Holder Rakken, may your Hold prosper and your descendants live long," he replied. It was the traditional greeting. K'leren knew, as most did, that all Rakken's sons were fostered off to prevent any ideas of rebellion, and that he had more than one or two girls instead of a brood of boys. He also knew, as many did, that the girls in his line were something that angered Rakken.
The greeting did not faze Rakken. "May the Weyr be strong and its inhabitants courageous," he replied, grinning. "Welcome to Ponaa, Dragonman. I hear you're out on Search?"
"Aye, and if you've heard about Search, you've also heard that several of my...our eggs are missing. Would your informants happen to have heard any information concerning the theft?" K'leren asked, threateningly as possible.
Rakken feigned innocence, and his voice dripped liquid sugar. "Ah, I'm afraid not, my good Dragonman. What a sad day it is indeed, when one will steal from another weyr." The slip-up was purely intentional; Rakken wanted to see if K'leren was sharp enough to pick up on the key phrase: "another." K'leren didn't. All the bronzerider knew was that Rakken knew more than he let on. Which meant that Tujal was in error, and the Lord was to blame. K'leren let it go until he could talk to Lyrai, but he filed the conversation away in his head, especially the "one will steal from another weyr" bit. He had a feeling that was important, but he just couldn't put his finger on it. "In any case, Dragonman K'leren, Search on." Rakken was delighted that K'leren hadn't caught on. It seemed to support his theory that bronzeriders were all brawn and no brain at all. "When you are done, please join me and mine in my Great Hall for some supper, hmm?" With that, he sauntered smugly back into his Hold.
K'leren wanted to strangle him.
K'leren signaled his wing to land. In the Courtyard, where many golds could touch down comfortably, the bronzerider had no problem landing his greens, blues, and bronzes. "Alright, riders! Keep a Search eye out and we'll return with candidates in absolutely no time. Here we go!"
Ponaa's Lord, Rakken, marched out of his Hold. "Bronzerider K'leren, how good to see you," he said to the rider, all saccharine. The Lord Holder had not forgotten the altercation at the Weyrwoman's hatching. If only the wingsecond knew Ponaa's own Lord was responsible for the mishap with the junior Weyrwoman's clutch...Rakken's smile widened. And Ista had been so easy to pull into the plan. Istan riders, with all their anti-social and hateful ways, had been simple to manipulate into stealing Weyr eggs. And now, those eggs, including the Ponaasian gold egg, were warming on Istan's own heated sands. Things were looking up.
K'leren noticed the oddness in Rakken's voice. The Lord seemed all too pleased. "Lord Holder Rakken, may your Hold prosper and your descendants live long," he replied. It was the traditional greeting. K'leren knew, as most did, that all Rakken's sons were fostered off to prevent any ideas of rebellion, and that he had more than one or two girls instead of a brood of boys. He also knew, as many did, that the girls in his line were something that angered Rakken.
The greeting did not faze Rakken. "May the Weyr be strong and its inhabitants courageous," he replied, grinning. "Welcome to Ponaa, Dragonman. I hear you're out on Search?"
"Aye, and if you've heard about Search, you've also heard that several of my...our eggs are missing. Would your informants happen to have heard any information concerning the theft?" K'leren asked, threateningly as possible.
Rakken feigned innocence, and his voice dripped liquid sugar. "Ah, I'm afraid not, my good Dragonman. What a sad day it is indeed, when one will steal from another weyr." The slip-up was purely intentional; Rakken wanted to see if K'leren was sharp enough to pick up on the key phrase: "another." K'leren didn't. All the bronzerider knew was that Rakken knew more than he let on. Which meant that Tujal was in error, and the Lord was to blame. K'leren let it go until he could talk to Lyrai, but he filed the conversation away in his head, especially the "one will steal from another weyr" bit. He had a feeling that was important, but he just couldn't put his finger on it. "In any case, Dragonman K'leren, Search on." Rakken was delighted that K'leren hadn't caught on. It seemed to support his theory that bronzeriders were all brawn and no brain at all. "When you are done, please join me and mine in my Great Hall for some supper, hmm?" With that, he sauntered smugly back into his Hold.
K'leren wanted to strangle him.
