[Durelin]

Sevora sat in a rickety wooden chair within her personal tent, which Rahvin shared with her, of course. Dristi sat nearby, her beautiful face carved from stone. No. Ice. Sevora almost laughed. The woman had seemed cowed by her punishment, but, then, she had only seemed, ready to murder whenever she thought Sevora wasn't looking. She knew Dristi was hard to break, and had a certain respect for the woman because of that. She respected her, respected her as a person just below. And second in command must be kept in his or her place. There was no room for anything but acceptance. Sevora really didn't want to break Dristi. Just as with Sammael and Zasfal, broken, the woman would never be as useful then. Why couldn't the fool just learn to accept?

Sevora let out a long sigh, rising from her chair. For a split second, she was sure she had seen surprise manifest on Dristi's icy face. Of course, the sigh. She hadn't done that in quite a long time, had she… This time Sevora did laugh, throwing back her head and howling. Dristi continued to sit watching her with eyes as icicles, trying to pierce. Most likely trying to determine why in the Great Lord of the Dark's radiance was Sevora laughing. The laughter was cut off abruptly, and Sevora's face was as cold and languid as ever, but with eyes all but burning with a light of something…perhaps mischief, of all things.

"Do you believe the old tribesman spoke truth?" she asked Dristi.

"I do. Only a fool would speak as if attempting to frighten servants of the Eye, and not speak truth. And he is no fool. He is ignorant." The word 'frighten' rolled off her tongue in a most disgusted manner.

"Yes. And we must not underestimate this old man, ignorant or fool. We must be cautious…ignorance can spread" It seemed Dristi caught her hint. Yes, to be respected…

"Do you propose a sort of…mutiny occurring?"

"It is a possibility, however small it would be. It can be quelled easily, if we are careful. I am sure that the majority of our…forces, if they can be called that, are loyal. Ghurdan actually goes as far to be blessed by the Great Lord. And that means his crew will stand behind him."

"I know," Drist said with a scowl, probably because Sevora questioned her of what she was aware of. "So you would expect it from only two or three would reveal themselves as treacherous?"

"Yes, though they could prove to be a problem, considering the fact that our numbers really are not all that large. But, again, they will not be, if we are careful."

Dristi opened her mouth to reply, but she was stopped as one of Ghurdan's crew entered the tent. With a low, formal bow, hand to heart, he waited for Sevora to motion for him to speak. With a nod and a gesture from her, the man began to speak, receiving a quick sour look from Dristi. "Priestess Sevora…Priestess Dristi," he began, bowing again toward each. So he decided to include Dristi…a smart man. "The scouts have returned and --"

"Alrady?" Sevora and Dristi asked together, both in the same bored, incredulous tone.

"Yes. They were intercepted by some of the tribesmen. Their apparent leaders wish to speak with you…m'lady." He looked uncertain at this title for Sevora, but she would except almost any title. They were unimportant as long as there were said, out of respect.

"We meant to give them the courtesy of meeting on their own ground and their own terms, but if they refuse…" Rahvin slipped in the tent at that moment to stand behind Sevora's chair. Naramarth followed close behind and took a seat in the third chair, near Sevora's but far from where Dristi was seated. Sevora's eyes ran over them for a moment before she continued. "Bid them enter."

Sevora had barely reached her chair to stand in front of it before the tribesmen entered. Dristi had risen, too, and luckily. But of course the woman knew all the proprieties of…negotiation. Naramarth glanced around before he rose and Sevora suppressed a scowl. The tribesmen leaders emerged from the boiling sun into the dim tent, the violent switch seeming to barely effect them. There were two women and a man, all hardly deserving of being called 'man' or 'woman'. They were more like a boy and two girls! What had that lout of Ghurdan's not told her? Leaders were always considered the wisest of the group, and even though wisdom came at varying ages, never did it come till long past grey hairs among infidels. Even if the tribes did pass on the rite of leaders through heirs, the tribal infidels lived a long time, and none of these children could have lost a parent as of yet. The split. The thought ran through her mind, but she knew it was not hers. She smiled. The Eye was kind to her. Still, some questions needed answering. Either this side of the tribe consisted of fools, or they were all of such young ages. And why had this side come to her? She suspected that crewman had forgotten something…or left it out deliberately.

"I am Priestess Sevora of the Order of the Eye. This is Priestess Dristi and Priest Naramarth, both also of the Order. We come to your land in order to spread the word, truth, and knowledge of the Great Lord of the Dark." Sevora said incongruously, with a slight, respectful decline of her head.

One of the young women stepped forward. "And I am Jasara, leader of the Baobab and Painted Sand young."

There it was…something in her eyes. Sevora had seen it before, all too many times. That cold flame that burnt with a fervent, macabre light, full of undying knowledge. Oh, yes, this one was wise. For the second time in minutes, Sevora howled with laughter. Yes, the Great Lord is kind to me.

[ August 20, 2003: Message edited by: Durelin ]