Alesia wasn't spending much time around her peers during Iolath's brooding over her clutch. When heat, hunger and a need to have a bit of time to herself came in order, she found herself in her study. That would be where she was this morning, a pitcher and cup of klah next to a half eaten plate of breakfast, already growing cold. No, her mind wasn't on food, but on the distant sight of the 2nd Wing doing their sweep riding for the day. Following that would come drills. It had been sevendays since she'd been able to participate in drills and threadfighting, and mentally she was chomping at the bit to get back at it again. For now though, she's have to content herself to watch through the large paneled windows that was a special perk to her working office.. at least until they went out of sight.

On the table were hides with details of a gather up and coming. She had only glanced at them, for once she was not in the mood for paperwork. It wasn't until the heavy wooden door of her study clicked and began to open up that she tore her eyes away from the window, immediately disgruntled at having been interrupted. The sight though, made her recoil whatever lashing words she'd had at the tip of her tongue, and managed a weak grin. "Terna, I'd like to say I'm glad to see you, but I doubt that you have good news for me." The smile given back to the Weyrwoman was not meant to be one to make her think otherwise, and Alesia's heart sank slightly as she said. "Sadly, your fears are spot on, Weyrwoman. We need to talk."


"Exporting..." Alesia sighed as she looked at the roughly jotted down notes given to her that detailed many of the contracts that had been passing to and from Thyra.

"High Reaches is someone they work with almost exclusively. Not much wood or tree growing products up there in the mountains. Alesia, Thyra is a great source of wealth. With the tithes you would be making from them, all this... hardship... wouldn't be the case!" The spy's sharp eyes burned with anger at this. "They're serving Weyr that can't fly a full fall without High Reaches and Tiazora helping us, and they feel they shouldn't pay. Shardit! Don't they realise without us, they might have had to evacuate their hold because they are so far out?"

Alesia could felt a similar rage building within her, but she kept calm, trying to keep her thoughts in order. "So, their next shipment is in two sevendays?" This was just what Alesia needed. She had to know that they were exporting to do anything about it. "That's against charter, you know." The the quizzical look given to her by her peer.. and even her friend, the Weyrwoman excitedly brought out a hidebound book, which within contained leaves of paper. At Terna's sharp intake of breath, she offered a hasty explanation. "I was able to use some of my personal earnings to get the paper I needed. I thought having the Charter in such a wonderfully compact reference would do me good." The paper was rough and pulpy, but it was the best of what Pern knew. "Not that I'm wandering away from hides, I'll have you know. I still think they will last the ages more than these leaves." She flipped through the book, finding a chapter that was a rare one indeed. "Most people don't copy this one over. It's the Old rules when power over the Holds were more readily enforced... Ah! In the situation that within a Pass, acceptable tithes are not given to the hold under guise of drought, disease or other ailment upon its residence, no exporting outside of protected Holds shall be allowed. Penalties are commandeering of said goods for the Weyr's distribution."

Terna's mouth was agape, peering over at the book. "You'd think they'd find a chapter like that important! Why would such a thing be forgotten?"

"Because most Holds aren't run by backstabbing tunnelsnakes." The acid was quite clear in the goldrider's tone, closing her book and running her fingers lovingly across it. Books were a precious, rare thing after all, and she'd scribed it herself.

"So you're just going to.. take what is yours?"

The answer sounded dark, and made Terna uncomfortable as the syllable slid over Alesia's tongue. "Yes."

((*gasps, wrigglesin pleasure* Oh, this is great!
Additionally, I am halfway excited that this might give me the opportunity I need to kill off a charrie! We shall see!!!))

((lol, that just might happen too, depending on how things go. If not, there's always thread =) ))

((Zenna stands ready for whatever small role she may play in this, Stormy. Can't wait to see where it goes.))

The slap of running feet and the rough hitch of hard breathing interrupted Zenna as she sat in her small office adjacent to the textile storerooms. She liked the closeness, the warmth, the smell of spun wool and tanned hides and freshly-dyed fabrics. It was peaceful, still, and quiet.

Well, except right now. Zenna lifted her head expectantly from the worryingly short dry-goods supply tablets she was mentally checking against the organized inventory. One fine-boned hand went automatically to her short, glossy brown hair, patting it into place, as she waited to receive her hasty visitor. He appeared a scant second later, sliding on the stone floor and grabbing wildly at the doorjamb to steady himself: a herdsman's apprentice, from the look and smell of him; disheveled, sweaty, and out of breath. Zenna reached for the skin looped over a hook on the wall behind her and poured the boy a cup of water. He drank it greedily, his eyes grateful above the rim.

"Lady, sorry 'n all, but Weyrwoman needs t'see you right away. I knew you'd be here, 'cause I brung you our fresh wool from th'beasts we keep from dragons." He beamed proudly, and Zenna nodded, even as she rose and reached for her cloak. The days were growing brisk, and the autumn air outside would be a sharp change from the cozy warmth of the deep caverns here.

"You did right. You're Trejor, aren't you? Of course I remember; your wool is softer even than what the Weyr gets as tithed." She smiled at Trejor's proud strut. "Thank you, Trejor. Please give your master this for his trouble," and she found a half-mark in her belt pouch, pressed it into the grubby little hand. He reverently tucked it away. "And this for you. Keep it safe; I hear a rumor there's a Gather to come to Kharasi in a few sevendays." She added a sixteenth to the first mark, and Trejor's eyes grew big as saucers.

Before he could thank her, Zenna was out of the room, drawing the cloak about her slender shoulders, taking the most direct route to Alesia's quarters. She would never keep the Weyrwoman waiting under any circumstances, but Trejor's mention of wool had stung her conscience awake: she was all too aware that this Turn, her home hold of Thyra had tithed no wool, nor anything else for that matter. She owed the Weyrwoman much. More than she could imagine making up in one lifetime.

She slowed down only at the heavy wooden door that barred Alesia's private quarters and study. Her knock was respectful, and when she heard the call to enter, Zenna was surprised to see a stranger in the room, standing behind the Weyrwoman with a neutral expression on her face. Alesia's face, on the other hand, looked pale and strained.

Zenna immediately wished she'd thought to bring klah. "Weyrwoman," she said, inclining her head. "How may I assist?"

Ah yes, wonderful Zenna, always there when Alesia needed her. It was her knock that both sent relief and realization through her at how.. unprepared she felt. Still, she beckoned her to come inside, offering a nod before allowing her gaze to slide towards the hides she had before her. "Exporting, Zenna. He's exporting goods. Making a fair mark doing it also, it seems."

She gestured for the woman to get comfortable, pulling out more papers. "This man has two possible heirs.. both of them are nowhere to be found. Someone could be voted in but.. otherwise we don't have a successor." She bit her lip, something she didn't have a habit of doing, but her nerves were on edge. There was no way of sugar coating these things. "He's going to be overthrown sooner than later. Were there... any other successors in line.. before you?"

She quickly followed up. Surely this was a sensitive subject to the woman, who had fled the corruption from her homeland to find safety and work in the Weyr. "Zenna, this can't leave this room, but there is going to be a flushing out of the bad in that Hold very soon if all goes well. I.. I don't want to throw you back in there without so much as a warning, but I might need your help reforming Thyra. I know! I know it's not Weyr business... but regardless of whether it is Weyr business, it's affecting us, and no one else is ready to do anything about it."

She had rather splurged her ideas, and her lack of composure made the Weyrwoman feel quite.. exposed. Taking a moment, she took in her breath, knowing it wasn't her moment to feel awkward, since she had just thrown a lot at the woman who had come to this Weyr for protection. "So.. we just need to let you know, that you might be put in a position.. to go back.... Not permanently unless you wish to! But you know Thyra better than most.." Helpless, she merely looked at the woman, awaiting a response before she blundered everything any further.

((*grabs popcorn and icee and settles back in chair* Loving it... :D))

((Oooh! Secrets, and spying, and lost heirs!!! I hear Hollywood calling!)

((Hatching is over, and now I can get back to this with full attention. Come on, brain. Don't let me down.))

Zenna closed her eyes for the space of several blinks, calling upon inner reserves to steady herself before she could bear to look at Alesia's face again. Exporting ... well, of course she knew Thyra had been planning to "help" their northern neighbors in High Reaches. That plot had been on Shigan's table for a Turn or so before Zenna had left Thyra. But to actually go through with it, while at the same time snubbing the Weyr that kept his blasted, distant Hold free of Thread, and therefore allowed its freedom to continue its corrupt ways...

"I'd almost wish the place consigned to Thread." Zenna spoke softly, as befit her, but her face and voice held bitterness. She shook her head. "I'm sorry, Weyrwoman. I spoke from my heart, not my head. Heirs ... you must mean Lyssa and Tommen." Zenna took a deep breath. She needed to be thinking clearly, not shaking in anger and shame at what her home Hold was doing to its protector. "I take it, from the way you speak, that you also don't believe the rumors that they're dead?" She glanced quizzically at the other woman in the room, who was so far silent. But Alesia seemed to be speaking freely, and Zenna took that on faith that this third party could be implicitly trusted.

"I believe - and I think Shigan does, too - that his brother Jessap hid the children from him." She thought for a moment. "Lyssa is ten Turns younger than I am, and she disappeared when she was six or seven, but I remember her as a headstrong, questioning child. If she can be found, she'd make a good Holder, I think. Tommen was too young for me to judge." She paused, thinking back along the family lines. "Other heirs ... there's the older son, Timmat. He was fostered off somewhere, but was being groomed for leadership. Maybe - if Thyra's lucky - he'll have gotten himself killed, or his fostering Hold will have altered his nature." She wrinkled her nose. "He was abominable to his siblings, and often tried to get me to play his cruel games on them."

She went on, trying not to think about Alesia's last words - go back? She couldn't face that. Talk first, let it come. "Shigan's brother Jessap is at Thyra still, but under house arrest in the cellars. When I left, there was debate about whether to kill him publicly, make an example of his treachery." She was pleased that her voice held steady; Jessap had been the last straw, for Zenna had considered him to be the only decent, upstanding person in the family. "There's my father, of course, but he's very old and probably won't live to see Shigan dead. Then me. Then my cousin Xavier." She shook her head. "I'm sorry, Weyrwoman. They are dismal prospects. If Jessap is still alive and can be - " she darted a glance at the silent woman behind Alesia's chair before dropping her voice to whisper, "Incumbent upon a coup - then he is the best choice."

Now was the time to address the core of the matter. Zenna took a step closer to Alesia's polished desk. "I - I would not choose to return, if I must be frank. But if the Weyr requires it of me, I will do what is necessary, only I hope you will allow me to return to my place here. This is my home. Not Thyra." Zenna pressed her lips together and bit the insides to stop herself pleading. "I will do whatever I must to help reclaim Thyra," she repeated; Alesia seemed suddenly lost at sea, and Zenna knew instinctively that she was looking for reassurance and commitment. Now was the time for Zenna to push aside all the fears that had kept her silent in Thyra, and call fully upon the righteous anger that had driven her out. "Just tell me where to start."