[maikafanawen]

Devon's expression was a mosaic of curiosity, disbelief and even a bit of respect as he met the man's gaze. The Gondorian had stormed from the ambassador's hall in a controlled rage and took up a stance at the round window table where he'd promptly grabbed an empty decanter and hurled it at the wall. The young man's jaw had dropped a little at the aggressiveness of the dark man's temper and he had to consciously close his gaping mouth. It occurred to Devon that the man may not know they were still there so he coughed slightly in an attempt to attract his attention. It worked and the man turned to face the group, his own expression unreadable. He did, however, look like he expected one of them to say something.

"I don't mean to be discourteous," Devon began politely, "but your business with my father didn't perchance have to do with the corsairs did it?" The man's expression was stone and only his eyes seemed capable of showing emotion at the moment.

"Your father?" he echoed with a voice that betrayed his amusement. Devon nodded slowly, his prejudged opinions of the man faltering. Then the man smiled which shocked the young man even more. He turned back to face the wall for a minute before pivoting and walking towards them. "Telson of Gondor," he introduced, deciding that a minor introduction wouldn't do too much harm. Maybe he wanted something from the ambassador and thought the man's son could help. Anyways, the absence of a last name told enough of how he viewed their relationship: short term. Devon did not take it to offense though, he assumed that the man was used to popping in and out of places at his convenience or his employer's: probably a high ranking nobleman which would give base to his relatively easy entrance.

"Devon Thrann," the young man returned, shaking hands. Telson's eyes then traveled to the other faces and Calnan introduced himself followed by Callath and Adeline. After he'd bowed respectfully to the young lady, Teslon straightened and looked again at Devon.

"You asked if my business had to do with the corsairs," Telson revived Devon's query. "Obviously you are not in very close political terms with Mr. Ambassador, else you'd ask him instead of approaching me just outside his hall. However you have concern for the goings-on, that is apparent, and it seems even that you also hold a strong conviction of sorts that has to do with the piratess--I can tell by the tone of voice you used upon asking. Perhaps, though, we can talk somewhere privately? The embassy's a bit drafty and I simply tremble at the possibilities of spies or eavesdroppers." He raised his brow in a gesture to remove their conversation from the present location but Devon and his company didn't move right away. "I'm not asking you to trust me, but from the looks of it," he said tossing a glance at the window leading to the chaotic streets outside, "I doubt things could get worse?" Devon's eyes narrowed but the Gondorian did have a point.

"There is no place private enough outside of the embassy. I would suggest that we take the conversation to the classroom. It's on the far East wing and secluded enough--I would know." Telson nodded once and spread his arm out before him gesturing for Devon to lead the way, a smile spreading slowly across his face again.

The four friends exchanged quick looks before heading off to the classroom, their dark stranger close behind.

* * *

The classroom had its usual mustiness to it and the books, maps, charts, and parchment sheaves and scrolls were spread out over Master Pearlle's desk and stacked haphazardly on the varnished bookshelves. The chair and desk where Devon would sit for his lessons along with the unused one his brother had once occupied were orderly and the dark-haired youth pulled out chairs for them all to sit in while they talked.

"Are you going to trust him?" Calnan asked Devon warily and very quietly. The young man shrugged.

"The way he was arguing with my father is obvious that he is not looking for his or Doran's alliance. As far as I'm concerned, that counts for quite a bit."

When they were comfortable, and Telson had time to decide whether the room was satisfactory enough for their discussion, they began to discuss Umbar.

"Your acceptance of the brawl at the inn seems very easy," Calnan remarked, interrupting Devon's recount to touch on Telson's offhand nod. Telson looked perhaps a little too quickly at the attaché and nodded guiltily when he realized his hasty action.

"I was staying at the Low Tide Inn that night by mere coincidence. I was fortunate enough to be in my room at the time, but the noise traveled and I was quick to relocate the next day."

"You wouldn't happen to know who was involved directly do you?" The Gondorian paused for a moment but shook his head.

"I'm sorry, there I cannot help you."

Devon looked between them for a moment before continuing to tell Telson of Doran's involvement. He included the captain and Agdar's conversation, and the attempted kidnap. Then Calnan offered details on the captain's bold speech and an overview of the laws. To smooth it all over, the ambassador's son described Doran's almost desperate "devotion" to Maurice Thrann and concluded by depicting them as inseparable as a child and its mother.

"And since my father's not interested in anything I have to say there are three things we could do. We could sit back and do nothing except flee for our own pitiful lives and let Umbar sink again right into Doran's filthy hands, we could send word to Gondor and pray somebody gets here in time, or we could take action ourselves and dig out Doran's plans, setting course against him in a last effort to revive Umbar. Personally," Devon added, "I'm ashamed at my father's failure and I'll do anything to repay Gondor for his ghastly misdeed." All ready an idea was forming in his mind. And crazy as it seemed at the moment, Devon couldn't help but see a glimmer of reality to it and he tried desperately to think of a way to bring it into words...