Three teams of men train with three teams of dragonriders to prepare for the assault. Not too many nights along, all is ready. Siege leads on group, Castor another, and Vere the third. Siege gets the most experienced/ready men, because he's the newcomer to the team, Vere gets the least ready, and Castor has a mixture. Vere's target is the largest of the island.
Things are about as expected, except that they've erected a small stockade on the largest island. Also, there's a ship visible on the horizon.
Does this change any plans? If not, how does Vere deal with the stockade?
If Vere wants the stockade burned, the dragons can oblige. Otherwise, the ball's in his court.
Burn it. Tempted as Vere is to try a scouting mission, going in personally to try to find out exactly what's going on before we call the attack, he's going to withstand the temptation and stick with the plan insofar as possible.
The order is given for L'tarn's transport wing to use their firestone sparingly, go between to the west side of the stockade as a unit when the landing is complete and make no more than two strafing runs to set fire to the stockade.
They are to await Jovian's signal to launch. The signal will shortly follow a decision on what to do about the ship; any and all aerial attacks will happen simultaneously (thus without warning).
As for the ship on the horizon... //Canareth, tell Hyloth his rider must ask Siege what he knows of that ship to the southeast. If it's not the Lady's, we'll go take care of it.//
Be careful, if it's reinforcements for the island, or if they were planning an invasion, there might be a witchqueen or a sorceress on board.
I was thinking of just that. Any possible warning will have to be minimized, as will multiple angles of attack.
//Hyloth says the war-man tells his rider that the ship is of the enemy and we should send it to the bottom as rapidly as possible.//
The plan is set, and the men are more than ready. The landings go smoothly, if not as quickly as the riders want. Soon the midnight sky is lit by the burning stockade and its smaller mirror, the burning ship. Between the fighting and the burning, Vere finds his troops have a reasonably easy time of it.
Before too long, each island has signaled for the dragons to land, and communication is eastablished via dragons.
"Your pardon, Prince Vere," says the dragonrider assigned to the large island. "But they want to know what to do with the prisoners."
"Secure them. Take no chances, I do not want to hear of anyone being killed because they were too considerate. But treat them as well as safety allows. Ask the Queenrider and J'rim if they would be so good as to request a ship be sent from Fair Isle to take charge of the prisoners, we shall leave their judgement to the Princess and her councilors."
It is done as Vere says.
Vere will oversee the binding of the prisoners on his isle. Who was in charge, and is he still alive? If not, who is the senior living officer of the rebels whom we have captured?
Between the firebombing and the soldiers, there were no survivors in the stockade. No one here gave orders to spare anyone. Some of the men are somewhat green at the sight of the charred, burnt bodies.
All the prisoners are on Castor's isle. The forces on Siege's isle report casualties.
Injured are to be taken back to Fair Isle as quickly as possible, by dragon if their wounds are life-threatening, by ship if the are not. Our dead will be taken back for burial.
Vere wants a report from Siege on who the casualties are, of course. And he wants Siege's opinion on whether we should leave garrison forces on the three isles, to send us warning if ships approach.
Wounded: a man with a burned hand on your team--he wasn't careful enough with red-hot metal. Castor's side has mostly cuts and bruises, except for one man who lost a three fingers to an axe blow. Siege didn't see what happened to the two who died, but they took sword-blows.
Find out if anyone else saw their death, if they made some simple mistake due to unfamiliarity with surface fighting we want to go over it with the others before it takes another life. If it's simply the fortunes of war, then so be it. The butcher's bill is lighter than it could have been for a first engagement, overall Vere is quite pleased.
There are no witnesses.
As for the enemy...
"They were noble foes," Vere tells his men. "Who fought as their women and their hearts directed. Their cause is wrong, but that does not detract from their honour. We shall build them a cairn, and send their souls from this world with respect."
He sends orders to the other islands to do this as well, and a request back to Fair Isle for a priestess to conduct the rights over the burials.
It is done as Vere desires and the men reassemble at Fair Isle. The captains are mostly happy with their work. Siege is cautious, but doesn't think things went badly. He thinks the men are still green, but that they're promising. He reminds Vere (and Vere alone) that a single Witch-Queen or even a superior or veteran force could give them significant problems.
Vere nods at this. "If at all possible, I don't want to go against a Witch-Queen without a sorceress on our side. We learned that lesson when we fought in the forest, didn't we?" He smiles grimly. "But we also learned that if there's any change that a woman travelling with our foes is a Witch-Queen we hit her first and hardest. The men have been told that, but reinforcing it again and again is not a bad idea."
Siege isn't convinced that all of Castor's men will act on this. He thinks the two green men probably froze and didn't strike or defend themselves. It happens with men who haven't ever faced actual hostilities. He thinks it's worrying that they took prisoners, despite having no instructions to do so.
Vere agrees, and we will talk with the captains about the dangers of our men risking themselves to take prisoners in a fight of this nature. But we won't kill prisoners after the fact, and we won't criticize the men now for having taken prisoners. It's a factor to keep an eye on.
Captain Thresu doesn't seem to be happy about that.
At some point Vere will take him aside, and ask him quietly, "You have objections to this, Captain? We are a limited force, in a dangerous war. We must focus on winning, not on minimizing the damage to our foes."
"My men aren't butchers, and burning those men alive in that ship is winning, but what's the cost, Prince Vere? It is possible to render moot the nobility of a noble cause by later actions. That's not what we brought these men here to do, is it?"
"Walk with me, Captain," Vere says. He turns and walks away from the camp, and then along the shore line. He stands for a few moments, looking out over the sea. Finally he says, "I have heard of a far kingdom, where the armies use clubs wrapped in leather and cloth as their weapons. It is considered dishounorable to kill the foe, they must be taken alive, merely knocked unconscious." He glances at Thresu, gauging his reaction to this story, then explains, "Their gods are hungry, you see, and the priests need as many living sacrifices to feed them as can be obtained."
He glances back out at the waves, watching their rise and fall on the shoreline. "War is an ugly business, Captain. Only bards who have not gone to battle and young men with more romance in their hearts than wisdom in their heads think otherwise. Our task is to win it for our leaders, and to keep the ugliness as low as possible. If I could prosecute this war without a single enemy death I would do it. But I cannot. And so I must look to how best to keep the suffering on all sides to a minimum. And I must always remember that my principal job is to win, not to lose the war in a noble manner.
"The men were untried going into this battle. Had I ordered them to take prisoners it might have held them back when the time came to strike a blow. 'Have I given the foes sufficient opportunity to surrender?' they would have thought. 'Can I strike so as to wound, but not to kill?' How many of our men would you have had me sacrifice on the altar of nobility, to spare the men who fought against us?" He waves off any move by Thresu to answer. "The burden of command has fallen to me. I do not turn from it, I will make these decisions, I will live with the consequences. If the dead feel anger over the manner of their deaths, I shall bear with that anger. And if the men feel guilt over their actions, let them blame me for it. That is why I gave the order. Your task is to carry out my orders, and when you think I am wrong you have my permission to come to me in private and question me. A voice of conscious is not a bad thing for a Lord Commander to have."
Vere clasps Thresu on the shoulders. "Your new title, Captain. 'The Conscience of the Prince.' May you bear it with honour, and with becoming patience."
Vere smiles then, releases Thresu, and looks back at the waves. "Do you understand waves, Captain? I know you of Rebma understand the currents, but waves are perhaps somewhat different. They are the intersection of worlds, the interface where differing rules meet. These tell me that there is a ferocious storm far, far out to sea. Does it fade away, or will it sweep towards us? We must look to other signs to read that."
"I. I think I understand. This is your place, not ours, so we cling to what we know. Some few will consider it a license to do as they please, some will cling to tradition and honor unto death, but most will follow a strong lead. We have a duty to lead them well. I will do my best by my men and you as well as I can understand it. I hope it is fatal to neither my principles nor my body."
Vere nods, lets his gaze linger a moment more on the distant sea, then turns and leads the captain back to the camp.
Siege wants to split the two groups up, using the dragons against southern shipping and using the Children of Lir on the north side of Isla Mula. It would be irregular fighting in hilly territory.
What's the eventual goal? Are we planning to retake Mula for a staging ground for further expansion? Right now our new forces still have the element of surprise, but that won't last long at all. Or is Siege's idea that we need to give the Children more experience before we move on to something really important?
Vere wants to go ahead and begin developing a long-range strategy, not simply hop from fight to fight.
Jovian reminds Siege as well that once the dragonriders become familiar with the major landmarks of the Isles, they will be a rapid-strike force that need not be confined to one front. Transit time between theaters of operations can be measured in seconds rather than days.
Hmm. And, once the Children are sufficiently blooded, if we can get one dragonrider to the center of Vianis' power we can bring the entire force in, bypassing all of her defenses....
Siege nods, but is concerned that another Lady's Town would make the war unwinnable. He thinks the troops are still a little green to know how they can best be used yet, but he will, of course, defer to Vere as his brother Commander and as the Lady's son.
Vere nods, considering Siege's words.
"As to Lady's Town," Jovian interjects, as if not quite liking the taste of the name after recalling the more evocative Mothersport, "why is it, exactly, that 'we do not speak of that aspect of the Goddess here'?" The gleam in the sharp green eye below his arched brow might faintly remind Siege of the first time Jovian raised such an aspect.
[Note: Siege wasn't there when you mentioned Mothersport before, so he shouldn't have any idea what you're talking about, but I don't want to put off a war on account of a minor confusion.]
Siege looks angry for a moment, but quickly calms himself, as if by force of habit.
"Fair Isle is consecrated ground, Prince Jovian. The Old Ways and the old names are not to be spoken. They are the tools of our enemies and the incontrovertible evidence of their apostasy. This is not Methrin's Isle or one of the big Islands, where you can be heretical with no consequences. You are not from the Isles, so your ignorance is excusable, but you should inform your brothers to be more circumspect."
Vere purses his lips and considers Siege. "Are we seeing a reactionary backlash against even the mention of the Old Ways, then? I fear this hardening into a religious war, rather than a righteous war against a traitor. If we ourselves frame the conflict in terms of the Old Ways versus the modern interpretation of the worship of the Goddess, it allows those who still hold to some aspects of the Old Ways to feel that they are justified in opposing us. Whereas if we hammer home the point that the Lady is the anointed representative of the Goddess, and that the Spider has betrayed not only her oaths, but also the very foundations of the Old Ways, in opposing her rightful mistress, then we remove that option." He tilts his head to one side, then adds, "These are, of course, matters for the Lady and her councilors to decide, but this is how it seems to me."
Jovian nods thoughtfully. "I understand the importance of names in a magical culture," he admits, "but Vere is right. You're playing into Vianis' hands if you let her frame the conflict in terms of religion rather than treason. And it lets your choice of language get in the way of practical facts - like when Avis pounced on my choice of name for the place rather than how it got to its current position."
He pauses a moment, studying a spot in the air low and to his right. "If we could get past the 'heresy' of using her terms against her," he considers aloud, "recasting the fall of Lady's Town as the old, angry aspect of the Goddess punishing treason might even have legs with Vianis' own followers."
Siege listens, but doesn't seem swayed. "That might have worked at the start, but it's years too late for that now. In any case, that's for the Priestesses to say. We should act like men, and work to our strengths."
"You are correct, Siege, let us not be distracted by this issue at this time," Vere says. "Right now we need to determine our next step in prosecuting the war. To return to your proposal, other than giving the men valuable experience, how does moving against Isla Mula advance the war effort? Are we seeking to recapture the island, and if so, what will our next step be after that? And as for the harassing of shipping to the south, are we seeking to destroy every ship we see, merchant as well as military? If we leave the merchants alone they will report having seen the dragons in flight. But if we destroy them..." he shakes his head. "I mislike undertaking to slay civilians for convenience sake."
"If we take Mull, they lose control of a string of island which can't be protected without Castle Leannan. The castle is nearly untakable from the seaward, but would be vulnerable from the land side. We'd put your men in to take the island, and we'd land a larger force to take the castle, and your men would free up more seasoned men for the assault. Then we'd move you along, sort of a flying column, to create the screen for us to consolidate that gain."
If Siege's intelligence is correct, this is not a bad plan.
"The thought has occurred to me," Jovian adds, "that a ship is a valuable asset if it can be taken rather than destroyed. It represents a great many hours of labor, precious resources, and a vital capacity to transport armed men." A piratical gleam lights the dragonman's eye. "We could ride tandem with just enough of your sailors for a prize crew, burn only those that cannot be taken more or less intact."
Siege agrees. He likes the idea of capturing ships, and would like the cargo as well. If it helps us instead of just not helping them, it's doubly valuable.
"Very well, then," Vere says. "Let us try to keep civilian casualties as low as possible. A war with no innocent deaths would be a joy. Let us do our best to come as close as possible to that goal."
"While incidentally filling the Lady's coffers," Jovian adds with a grin.
If Siege has nothing further, Jovian will spend his next block of time with some of the Danu's sailors, formulating plans of attack for various types of ships with an eye toward disabling with minimum actual damage.
The sailors suggest that masts and rudders are your prime targets, especially if you have a way to tug a ship that cannot steer or sail. One of the sailors asks if the dragons can swim.
And he is told that the dragons can swim, but not without their riders, and won't be sent riderless into range of any attack except under extraordinary circumstances.
Dragons as tugboats is the idea they're trying to get to. They can have riders.
That's an option, but with the regular crew secured below decks, a prize crew of twenty could do some knotting and splicing as well. That can be played by ear.
With more discussion the general will be refined to specifics for each type of ship - which sails and rigging are most important for tacking into the wind and other such things [that can be glossed over]. Jovian will look to maximize economy of damage without getting unreasonable in his expectations for draconic precision.
Seige wants to know what you're going to do once you immobilize a ship.
Require the crew to surrender, of course, and wreak such further havoc as proves necessary if they refuse. Once the regular crew is subdued, we land the prize crew on board and take her in to a friendly port, which is the point of having some of the Lady's sailors riding tandem with the dragonriders.
Siege helps finalize the preparations for the plan. He expects to be able to go in less than a week, depending on what he can learn and how the other forces do.
The dragonriders seem relieved at the new tactics.
[Anything else on the planning list before going separate ways for separate attacks?]
Sometime during this period Vere is going to find a private place to try to contact Gerard. We could run that in summary to prevent the conversation from holding up the action.
Likewise, Jovian will want to follow up on getting M'corli's eyes checked out before any major action.
[They think they'll be able to break the spell on Midsummers Eve.]
[Erm. And that's in how long?]
Three weeks.
Siege reports a small flotilla of enemy ships was reported leaving the mainland on a northerly tack and suggests that these three ships will be a good proof of the attack methodology. You could hit them any time in the next two days, and they'll be nearest to friendly ports at midday tomorrow.
Who do you send and what are the orders?
Jovian will lead this attack personally. He requests a small, fast ship carrying 30 supernumeraries to await a signal over the horizon from the enemy shipping - it need not be a warship; it's carrying prize crews to be boarded after the action is over.
(These tactics assume two merchantmen and one warship escort. If it's otherwise, we'll adjust.)
What a coincidence! That's what it is.
Two of the larger, more imposing but less agile brown dragons will be assigned for each merchantman - T'lon and Peneth will work with D'mir and Firth, Ky'lan and Montieth with R'son and Laith. Blue rider R'liat will lead a team of four fast, agile blues and greens against the warship; given the size of even the smallest dragon, Jovian values maneuverability over strength under fire. W'tel, T'dor and Virta are with him, riding blue Parth, green Shalith and green Swith respectively. V'laren, Kourin and Jovian will be in reserve in case something goes stupidly wrong. Each dragonrider will ride tandem with a sailor, to assist in targeting follow-up attacks if necessary and to be boarded when the action is over. (This makes a total of 41 sailors for three prize crews - lean, but manageable with no severe bad luck.)
The plan is for the smallest dragon to get a coordinate from as far away as possible to minimize visibility - fortunately Swith is fairly pale in color and won't be as distinct against the sky as some of her teammates. Then the whole team comes in from between to deploy on strafing runs, maximizing economy of damage as discussed, making their approaches at angles as divergent as possible to split up and confuse any enemy fire. With the suddenness of the attack it shouldn't take more than two passes to effectively immobilize the flotilla.
Do you issue firestone?
Yes. As usual, getting within actual physical contact range is the backup plan.
That's when Kourin approaches in all her feminine authority, with V'laren and Jovian backing her up, to demand that the crews surrender in the name of Rilga and of the Lady.
If this fails to shake them down, we'll decide what further havoc is necessary.
In two passes, the three ships are adrift (and possibly lightly burning, depending on the answer to the above question). The decks are clear, as the crew seems to have cowered if they weren't thrown overboard.
There doesn't seem to be anyone to ask to surrender in the name of anyone. There are people in the water who were in the rigging of the three ships. Also sharks.
Jovian signals for the support craft to move in and gives orders for the topmen in the water to be pulled out and deposited on the decks of the disabled ships. He'll also get the flying sailors boarded to secure the ships, including locking down the gratings if necessary to keep the captured crews in the holds. When the three ships are all secured, all the men's efforts can be concentrated on one ship at a time in the way of knotting and splicing to get them all moving again as quickly as possible.
The men are pulled out, the decks are secured, but the sailors are wary of setting sail without settling the belowdecks.
Once the decks are secure, an armed party can be sent down the forward hatchway of each merchantman, rounding up the crew and giving them the opportunity to yield any arms they possess and renounce support for Vianis' rebellion rather than being locked up.
When matters are in hand, the captain of the escort ship will be called upon to formally surrender command of the convoy to Jovian son of Julian son of Rilga, in the name of the rightful ruler of the Isles. The forms of these things ought to be observed, after all.
The captain will surrender to Jovian, personally.
[Jovian lowers himself to the deck after the crew control it and then goes back to the raise after deck. The captain is in his quarters in the back. He's injured. Do you demand that he come on deck or do you go below?]
I'll go below - taking one of our sailors and one of his with me. I want everything conducted openly to combat Vianis' bad press, no grist for the rumor mill.
Jovian accepts the man's sword soberly.
The captain is an older man, and his leg is wrapped tightly in a dirty white cloth that is covered with blood. It's tied off tightly enough to make you think it's a tourniquet.
"Captain," he advises, "I would take no pleasure in keeping you and your officers locked in the hold. But if you will not renounce support for Vianis' rebellion and pledge not to take up arms against the Lady, I am afraid you will leave me no choice."
"I have no choice but to surrender my ship, demonman. Will you spare my crews' lives? If not, will you allow them to go to serve the mother or are we fated for service to your demons? If I have to bargain with you for them, I will do so."
"You are no doubt a good man, captain, but you have been misinformed," Jovian says firmly but not unkindly. "These dragons - not demons - are allies of Oberon and my grandmother Rilga. They serve the Lady of the Isles at their pleasure and my direction. We first came here on our way home from the battle at the Abyss where the power that created the Black Forest was broken, and now we have returned to cleanse the last of that evil's influence by putting down Vianis' treachery." Remembering the distressing effect his revelations had on Seige previously, Jovian tones down the projection just a little, but the power of his authority and presence is palpable in the room by the time he finishes.
He looks nervous at the mention of the Black Forest, but he doesn't recognize Oberon and Rilga.
Jovian notes this for later consideration....
"All that I require for the safety of your crew and yourself is your pledge to return to your true duty in the ways of the Goddess and of the Lady. But you should consider your answer, while my medic confers with your ship's surgeon about saving that leg." He turns to the loyalist sailor at his side. "Pass the word for T'dor, green Shalith's rider."
"You think us apostates? We are not from these isles, demonman. We serve the same Mother as our brethren here, but the land of the Valiant has always been under our own priestess-queens. It is the Danu who are the backsliders."
Jovian receives this news impassively. "Well, you can explain that to our priestesses. I am sure they'll find your perspective fascinating. They may even be content to send you back to your land of the Valiant if you give your parole that you will not return to the isles or help Vianis in her war. For now, I suppose, you will be restricted to your quarters - for the sake of medical necessity."
"Your priestesses are not kind to prisoners. Will you offer us those terms? My officers will submit to a Gwelt not to set for on your Isles under arms if you will spare us the ministrations of the Danu."
"The witch-queens Vianis leads are unkind, perhaps," Jovian answers. "The Lady's priestesses less so." He turns to leave. "We will speak again before the matter need be tested."
He will remain as long as it takes to have T'dor see what he can do for the captain's leg, then make sure all three vessels are secure and underway toward a loyalist port before assembling the wings for their return to Methrin.
The leg is crushed; all they can do is make it comfortable.
Jovian leaves T'dor with the ship's surgeon to do what they can. When the loyalist sailors have matters in hand, he musters the wings and leads them between to Methrin.
If Siege is there, he will seek a meeting with him, indicating some urgency. If he is not, then he will make the same request of Avis.
Siege is off on a short trip, but Avis will see him. "How went your raid, Lord Jovian?"
"Almost ideally," Jovian nods, "according to plan in every detail but one. The escort, at least, wasn't Vianis' ship. What can you tell me about a place that calls itself the Land of the Valiant?"
Her eyes widen slightly, and then narrow. "That is an old name, Lord Jovian, an old name, indeed. The story I have heard is that they are distantly related to our ancestors who left the mainland to live in the Isles. Where did you hear of it?"
"Well then," Jovian nods slowly. "The rumors about Vianis getting help from the mainland are true. I'd wondered how she could get ships afloat so quickly after we destroyed her fleet in Lady's Town. The 'Valiant' still follow the old ways that Vianis wants to bring back; they think the Danu are the backsliders, not them. But I think they can be persuaded to stay out of the war for the Isles, *if* we don't commit any war crimes against any of their people we take as prisoners."
She frowns. "The priestesses will see what needs to be done, Dragonman. Our experiences early in the war leave few prone to half-measures."
"If that means what it sounds like, Avis, we've got a problem." Jovian meets her frown with his own furrowed brow, his tone serious as an aneurysm. "Dealing harshly with foreign prisoners will only harden their countrymen's resolve against us. Dealing reasonably and moderately with them just might give us an opportunity to get them out of the fight with a lot less wasted blood."
She smiles and nods. "Thank you Lord Jovian. The women will take your concerns into account when we debate the matter. For a man, you're very perceptive."
"And for a woman, you're very cavalier," Jovian responds with a smile to exactly match hers. "I shall await the outcome of your debate before delivering any prisoners."
He bows from the neck and turns to walk away.
She watches him walk away, her eyebrows slightly raised.
[Where to next, WeyrLeader?]
First, orders. Jovian walks without much intent toward a quiet area of the encampment and starts relaying messages through Canareth. The essence of it is that all prisoners are to be transferred to one of the captured merchant ships; all cargo and supplies from that ship are to be transferred to the other two except for essential spare canvas, spars and cordage; and when the convoy comes in to port the ship carrying the prisoners should hold off in the outer roads at single anchor ready to slip at a moment's notice. Explanations to follow face-to-face. Jovian will have Canareth repeat the orders verbatim and if there's any indication that T'dor and Shalith have trouble understanding, he'll fly out and oversee the matter personally.
//Hoshith says Kourin wants to talk to you.//
//All right. Where is she? We'll go and meet her.//
Jovian walks (or mounts up and flies, depending) to the place Canareth is told and greets Kourin with a smile. "What's on your mind?"
She smiles back, but it's the smile of a very busy woman. "Two things." She counts them off on her fingers. "Two, what's behind these funny orders? One, Parth tells W'tel that they are holding something back."
"One," he says, tapping her middle finger, "that hardly comes as a shock, particularly with the man o'war's men. But if Parth and W'tel have a minute, I'd like to hear their basis for saying so - how they're hiding it may be as useful as what they're hiding." He touches her index finger and adds, "Two, I'm keeping the prisoners offshore until the priestesses decide what to do with them. I don't really think they're going to be angry and stupid enough to commit war crimes, but I don't want them to think they can dismiss my concerns lightly either."
He heaves a sigh, gazing for a moment toward the land mass over the horizon. "I'd be really happy if this thing stayed a matter of renegades vs. rightful holders. That way we might keep the mainlanders out of it without too much mess. But...well, let's just say there's a reason Dad had me raised in a place without religion. If calmer heads don't prevail, this could get ugly."
"War crimes?" Kourin asks, confused. "Are there suddenly rules for this, other than our own honor? Nobody likes this, J'rim. We came back in large part to help Robin, and she's not even here. We didn't come to burn boatsful of men to death. We protect the holders. We generally don't get involved in their fights and they don't fight with us. I think the wingleaders need to confer and we need to go back to our wings with some way to convince them the holders here are worth keeping in power."
"There have always been rules, Kourin," Jovian ripostes. "The new part is that in some places they've felt the need to codify them. You don't abuse non-fighters. You treat enemy prisoners the way you'd want your own people taken prisoner by the enemy to be treated. That kind of thing. But one of the things religion does is let the folks in charge say that people who believe X are properly human beings and people who believe Y are not.
"As for why we came, it was partly because of Robin, but at least as much to claim a price for M'corli's eyes. I have my own family reasons as well, but they don't bind you or anyone else...but those reasons notwithstanding, if I had to throw in on the question of whether or not this place was going to run on human sacrifice, I think I'd choose not."
He looks long and hard at Kourin and comes to a decision. "You know, love...I suddenly get the idea you'd make good high priestess material." The hard edge of his smile is distinctly piratical. "The Danu's priestesses meet in council to make broader decisions on what this war is about and on what principles we're supposed to fight it. Hoshith has ultimate thrall over all the dragons; tell them they won't fight if you can't listen in, and you're bound to be admitted. They'll say things in front of you they'll never let a mere man hear."
Kourin frowns. "I'm all in favor of proposing that I attend, but threatening to withdraw our support is a little strong. We are still the allies of the local holders and even if we don't understand their ways, we don't have a good reason to threaten to abandon that alliance, even if we don't like the way they handle their holdings. Let's try persuasion before resorting to threats. And then we can have something to take back to the wingleaders to satisfy the wings, or a reason to break the alliance."
Jovian nods. "I was thinking that. But with what I've seen of Avis, it's good to at least know what your big stick is before you talk softly with her."
"I don't think she mistakes the nature of a Queenrider's power, and if she does, I can teach her," Kourin says grimly. She stops and looks Jovian over, still frowning. "What's the matter with you, Jovian? If Canareth were a green, I'd swear he was broody."
[Yes, that's an awkward pronoun either way.]
"I'm just...." He stops, sighs. "There's a lot going on, Kourin, and most of it's a clusterfnck. I'm worried about my Dad and my arsehole brother, for one. For another, I'm no more sure we ought to be here than you and the lads are," he admits, shaking his head. "Vere's family. You stick your neck out for family, because it matters. But...Faranth's back teeth, lass. A religious war? If I seem to put a manic disposition on, it's only the laugh to keep from screaming."
He closes his eyes, rubbing his forehead against the headache coming on. "One thing is for damn sure, we're not burning boatloads of men to death, so put that worry out of your mind."
"If it's that bad, we need to consider how we can honorably be released from our obligations and go home." The words aren't phrased as a question, nor does Kourin's pitch rise at the end of it, but Jovian can tell she's on unsure ground here.
"I don't think it'll come to that," Jovian shakes his head slowly. "But Avis is bound to be more forthcoming with you than with me. We'll do what we can, or what we must."
She nods. "Story of our lives. Alright, I'll talk to Avis and try to tell her what we're here to do and what we're not here to do. Then we can talk to the Wingleaders."
"Not just Avis - their whole council," Jovian emphasizes. "I'm interested in knowing whether the rest of them share her attitudes, or go along with the strongest voice. I'm more than a little leery of interfering in local politics," he adds hastily, reading the queen rider's expression. "But if there are moderate voices in need of encouragement, we may yet be able to serve Vianis out on our own terms."
"You can't change dragonriders, J'rim. If they think something isn't right, they won't do it. If they didn't have utter confidence in their own judgement, they wouldn't be up to the job."
"I've known that for a long time, love - I earned these leathers just like you did." He smiles, meeting her eyes. "In that sense, my father's side of the family and my mother's have plenty in common."
Just after dawn one morning Vere finds a private place on the east coast of Fair Isle, and pulls his father's trump from his deck. He gazes at the card, willing a connection.
"Who is it?" says Gerard.
"Ah, Vere." The connection solidifies. Gerard is in an unfamiliar room, decorated in neutral colors. "What news do you have of the Isles? How is your mother?"
"Mother is badly weakened from fighting off an attack by the Witch Queens, but expected to recover. Avis is taking on much of her authority, and doing a good job, as far as I can tell. I told her that you were injured and currently unable to travel, and thus unable to come yourself, but I said nothing of the nature of your injuries, other than that you are also expected to recover."
Gerard's sudden concern at hearing of the Lady's illness and his relief at hearing she is expected to recover are palpable to Vere through the trump connection.
"We are on Fair Isle currently. The war goes..." Vere pauses, tilting his head to one side... "It was not going well when we arrived. I believe we can make a difference, but Jovian and I are both hesitant to manipulate reality here, and thus our greatest strength is negated. The Rebmans fight well, with seasoning they will be good troops. We are currently engaging in relatively minor operations, designed primarily to train them and to slowly move us into a position from which to make more decisive strikes." He frowns. "Ladystown has sunk into the sea. The Spider has abandoned whatever remains of it, if anything. I am thinking that it might behoove me to try a quick voyage there, to see what I can learn."
"That might be wise." Gerard frowns. "I wish ye'd had a chance to talk to Jules about what he saw between your coming here and going there. Certain things might make more sense to you now that you've come into yer heritage. If ye go, take a couple of yer Rebmans with you. They mayn't be able to breathe the way they do in Rebma, but they'll be useful in such operations anyway."
"Aye," Vere replies. "Any news of how his war goes?"
"Nothing significant since you left. Jules takes a little, he gives a little. He looks for ways to put a permanent end to the conflict. He met with Robin and she was well, though she goes on dangerous missions for him. The last time she spoke with him, he told her about your successes in Paris. The word she sends you is," and Gerard clears his throat, "Wahoo." He grins at Vere. "She's proud of ye, son. She said she knew ye could so it."
[Note: Gerard's answer pins this thread timewise in Xanadu; for future reference, it's before the sparring match.]
Vere grins back. "Then I must return her faith, and refrain from worrying about the missions she carries out for Prince Julian. Whatever the task, I am confidant she can triumph." The smile fades from his face. "Would that I was as confidant of my own mission. While I believe we will triumph militarily, I worry over what the cost will be. Civil war is an ugly business, and it shall be generations before the repercussions of this division will have fully played themselves out." He shrugs. "It will be as it will be."
Gerard bows his head slightly in acknowledgement of this truth.
Vere thinks for a moment, then says, "Oh, there is another matter. Avis and the Lady both know the identity of Robin's mother, I do not know how. Avis spoken merely of 'the mysteries of the goddess' priestesses.' Others may well know of this as well. I think it best if Prince Julian and Lady Robin both know of this fact."
Gerard nods. "Aye. I'll tell them. I'm not surprised, though--the priestesses have uncanny ways about them and always have. What do they make of the matter, and what, if anything, do they mean to do about it?"
After a moment, he adds, "And what do they ken of your own sister, if they spoke of her at all?"
"They have said nothing of her, nor given any hint that they know of her existence. I have not mentioned her myself. Much though I love and respect my mother and sister, they are political creatures, and I think it best I not draw their attention to a matter which, so far as I know, has little likelihood of impinging upon the Isles in the near future, if at all."
Gerard's sense of relief is palpable to Vere through the contact.
"As to the Lady Robin," Vere smiles once more. "The Princess is all for an immediate marriage between myself and Robin, in absentia, and spreading the story throughout the Isles that the daughter of Ysabeau and the son of the Lady are wed, as a means to woo back traditionalists who have sided with the Chancellor. Reasons why this cannot be have been explained, but I have said that I can see no reason to believe that the Lady Robin would object to the knowledge of the betrothal being spread. If her mere name can discomfit the Spider I am sure she would be amused by that. And it is not as though she were planning on returning to the Isles soon."
"I mislike it, but I canna see a way to gainsay them that wouldna require more explanations than ye need to give," Gerard says, frowning. "If I were in fighting trim, I'd come settle it all and none of this shilly-shallying would be necessary. But if wishes were horses, beggars would ride. We must do with what we have."
Vere nods, then tilts his head to one side. "Would you speak with Mother?" he asks quietly. "I can seek her out and bring her into the connection, if you would."
Gerard pauses and considers the offer. "Unless ye think the shock of seeing me like this would make her worse, aye, I would speak with her."
Vere smiles at his father. "I will contact you again shortly," he says. He moves his hand over the face of the card, willing the connection to break.
Then he walks back to the camp, smiling and greeting people as the island comes to life in the early morning sun. He stops before his mother's tent. "I would speak with The Lady," he says to the guard, loudly enough that those within can hear.
The guard moves aside, and Vere can enter. The tent is poorly lit and close. Vere's mother lies in the bed. "Vere? I thought I heard you. How did your attack go?"
"We took them easily. There were ethical questions raised regarding my decision to take no prisoners, a matter I would like to speak with you upon later." While speaking Vere casts his glance around the tent, and listen for any sounds from behind interior walls (if there are any), making certain that they are alone. Assuming they are, he continues, "That can wait for later. Father would speak with you, if you are well enough."
She brightens noticeably. "I am well enough for that. How do we contact him?"
Vere produces the card of his father. "A magic of Amber," he replies. He pauses for a moment, then warns her, "Mother, I must tell you that Father was badly injured, more badly injured than I might have led you to believe. He will recover, of that I have no doubt, but it may take a long time. I did not wish you to be taken by surprise when you see him."
He turns his attention back to the card, letting it once more serve as a bridge between him and his distant sire. "Father," he says, "I am here."
Gerard takes the contact at once. "Aye?" he says.
Vere sits beside his mother's bed, takes her hand, and turns the card so that both of them can see its face. "Mother is here," he says.
Vere hears the hissed intake of his mother's breath as Gerard comes into view. "Gerard," she starts to say, and his father cuts her off. "Aye. I know."
It takes his mother a moment to compose herself. Inside the contact, Vere is uncomfortably aware of all sorts of complicated emotions.
"Son," Gerard says to Vere, very formally, "I hae business wi'yer mother that is best conducted alone. Will ye gi' her the card and let her speak wi' me alone?"
"Aye," Vere replies. He hands the card to his mother, then stands and bows. "I will be outside," he says.
He walks out of the tent, nodding to the guard, and then moves yet a little further away, until he is far enough that even his exceptional hearing has no chance of making out his mother's side of the conversation taking place inside the tent. He stands, looking out over the camp, watching his men and analyzing their developing relations with their hosts from body language and overheard snatches of conversation. This exercise does not completely serve to keep his mind from speculating on what his parents may be saying, but it helps.
The Children seem to be in good spirits. It's a warm day and they are all talking animatedly. There seems to be an awareness from both sides that the other is there, but no actual fraternization. There's not much between the officers and the men for that matter.
Vere is only at this task for a short period when his Mother's tent flap is pulled back, and she is standing in the doorway, squinting and blinking at the sun.
He immediately walks back to the tent. "Mother?" he says.
"I hate being cooped up in there. Give me your arm and we'll walk a bit."
With a smile and a slight nod of his head he holds his arm out and takes his mother's arm in his.
As they get a bit away from the tent, she breaks the companionable silence. "You should have told me about your father."
"It seemed to me that it was his to tell. You know how Father can be about such things, he cannot bear to have anyone worry for his sake. Duty comes above all, and he never spares a thought for himself. I had hoped that once I was here I would be able to arrange a conversation between the two of you, and that he would tell you himself." He is silent for a moment before adding. "Was I wrong? Would it have been better to have given you more of a warning than I did?"
"It would have been better for me, but it wasn't wrong on any great scale. You and your father are different from Men of the Isles. You have better judgement. But it didn't help me plan for this war. Or for after." She winces as she steps down, and leans on Vere for the next few steps.
"I wouldn't have said this before, but you've grown up so since you left. This has been a difficult period, without your father's wisdom or warmth to lean on. I wish I had strength to lend him, instead of needing him to help me. He's not good at choosing to care for himself.
"He thinks he's dying. He didn't say so, but I could tell."
Vere is silent for a few moments. "I knew he felt his condition was worse than he had told anyone," he says finally. "I did not wish to think it was so serious." He walks with her for a few seconds before adding, "Father's family is strong. Stronger even than many of them realize. And I have not yet had a chance to speak with my great-grandfather, who knows more of the origins and strengths of our line than any other. I do not give up on Father's recovery, Mother."
She smiles. "You're stubborn. You get that from both sides. I count on you out-stubborning your father."
Vere chuckles. "I shall endeavour to live up to expectations, Mother," he replies.
After a bit [and after Vere's reply to the above], she says "I haven't been out as much as I'd like to be, lately. How do people feel about the war?"
"Avis assures me that the people will think as the priestesses tell them," he says. "Perhaps she believes it, or perhaps it is merely her way of telling me to mind my own business and not attempt to meddle in feminine concerns." He frowns, allowing his gaze to sweep the camp. "My own feeling is that this war has been allowed to become a matter of religion, rather than a matter of treason. Avis says it is too late now to change that, but I fear that we play into the Chancellor's hands. Mother, how did this happen? I would never have suspected betrayal from Vianis."
"Nor did we. Nor did she, actually. It started with a split between us, one we kept quiet. I protected her for quite a while, but in the end she wasn't interested in being protected from her heresy.
"She said she walked with the Goddess in a dream, and she was told that we must reconcile ourselves with the Witch-Queens, that we must understand them and that the forest was like a member of our family, and should be loved and brought into our hearts.
"The Goddess told me no such thing, but many listened to her words, and eventually, it came to open rebellion."
Vere says quietly, "I see. Regrettable. I would prefer that it was pure treason, and that I could hate her. But if she believes that she does the Goddess' will, then I must respect her devotion to that cause. And it makes her the more dangerous. Will killing her make her a martyr to her followers?"
He thinks to himself, but does not say, how this explains Avis' reaction to the news of his betrothal to Robin. The forest should be loved and brought into our hearts, indeed.
"We've certainly tried. I've learned that we have some who are faithful to our ways who are just as rigid and uncompromising as our foes. That's good in some ways. We need Iron to make steel. But we need trained hands and minds to guide the steel sword to defend ourselves."
She stops him as they reach a vantage over both the bay and the encampment of the Children of Lir.
"Our way is a better way, granted by the merciful goddess to her people. Under pressure, we revert to our more primitive ways. I want to prevail, Vere, because our way is forwards to what the Goddess wants for us. I need you to help your sister make it happen."
Vere turns to watch his mother's face as he repeats, "Help Avis make it happen?" There is a question in his voice. "Not to help _you_ make it happen, nor even to help the two of you make it happen?"
She smiles, tightly. "That's not what I meant, but it's not completely out of the question. We are at war and I am a target. But Avis is younger and in many ways a better leader for the people of the Danu when we are at war. I lean on her considerably, but I cannot help her when she is far from here." She shakes her head.
"I think that I was not as hard as she is, when I was a young priestess, but I was never a captive of the Spider."
"I will support her, of course," Vere says. "She will learn as she goes, or she will not, but I will not be the one who pulls her down if she fails at the task." He smiles, as tightly as his mother. "Neither will I pull her back from the brink if she antagonizes allies by her refusal to consider that the way of the Isles is not the only valid way, and that allies are not subjects."
He shrugs. "That is neither here nor there for the nonce. I should tell you, Mother, that while I will stay here until the war is done, I do not plan to remain here thereafter. I have an oath to fulfill, Father's health must be repaired, and I must return to him to see to that. And after that, the Lady Robin will have much to say on where I fare."
She nods. "I look forward to meeting her. Our people are more like your soldiers than your cousin's fliers. Given that there are people who find horses large, it's no surprise that he and his are profoundly disturbing to some. And yet it's a difficult case to balance the flying, fire-breathing warriors with the sensibilities of everyday women. They are likely to be too much of a weapon for many tasks, as frustrating as that may be." She sighs.
"Do you see anything we're not doing with them that we should be?"
"The dragonriders are not warriors, Mother. That is the first thing that needs to be understood about them, and something that I fear is not. They are _defenders_, and that is a big difference. They are used to protecting their weak and defenseless, not in carrying a war to an enemy. They can fight when they need, do not mistake me, but they will not carry on a war for long if they do not feel that they are completely in the right. They fight for us now because of anger at the Spider, and for the love Jovian bears Robin, but we must not take them for granted or we will lose them."
"It is the difference between training a boy to swing a sword and expecting him to swing it at the enemy. It's why we celebrate and promote the Brotherhood.
"It's worse for your outlanders, who aren't fighting for home and sister, I expect. I knew we needed to work on that with your men from the sea-kingdom, but I thought the dragonriders were blooded warriors."
"I did not mean to imply they are not," Vere explains. "They have fought at the Battle of the Abyss, against the Masters of the Black Forest, the very Lords of Chaos themselves. Their bravery and ability cannot be questioned. It is merely that they regards themselves as defenders, as heroes, rather than as those who fight when and where they are directed, without regard for right or justice. A war against fellow men, rather than monsters, for causes they do not fully understand, will wear upon them as time passes."
She nods, slowly.
He frowns, thinking, then adds, "Do you know if Queenrider Dame Kourin has been taken into Avis' council? She should be, if she has not."
"We thought they preferred to remain separate from us. It was my understanding that she wished a warrior's role, not a woman's." She smiles. "They are certainly a challenge to our priestesses, especially those who don't remember your father."
Vere smiles. "It is well for the priestesses to face an occasional challenge to their view of the world."
A breeze blows over the hilltop and she shivers slightly. The Lady looks over the camp. "We should go back."
"Of course, Mother." He escorts her back to her tent, silently musing over whether he should mention his plan to visit the site of Lady's Town. Unforbidden, then not disobeyed, he finally decides, and lets the matter lie undiscussed.
She leans on him and it occurs to him that The Lady seems tired.
When they arrive at the tent he asks, "Would you return the card to me, Mother, or did Father bid you keep it?"
"I left it by my bedside. You should have it. I fear I would become too attached to it if you left it with me."
She leads him in and the room is heavy with incense. Vere can see the tendrils of thin smoke rising from the braziers. She hands him the card and sits on the bed.
"I would like to walk with you again, perhaps tomorrow."
"I should like that, Mother. We shall walk every morning, if you wish, when I am not called away by duty." Vere kisses her hand, and waits to see if she has anything else to say before he departs. If not, then he will leave her, musing on the unexpected changes that can occur in life, and the differences in perception a few years can make.
Last modified: 30 May 2005