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| To the South; OTA | |
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| Topic Started: Feb 4 2009, 12:11 PM (228 Views) | |
| Elaine Treherne | Feb 4 2009, 12:11 PM Post #1 |
Spymaster to the High King and Queen
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One second, Elaine was in the courtyard in Tar Valon, the next, she was in the back garden of Tar Valon's embassy in Murandy. It was a scene of frenzied activity. In the very center of the space there was a huge bonfire with what she presumed were the most private papers, including the codes and ciphers, that were being disposed of. Elsewhere there were signs of preparations for an organized and hurried departure. The ambassador, a White Sister, came over and pressed some papers and a large bag of gold into her hands. Elaine had requested that a message be sent through a gate to alert the woman of Elaine's arrival. "I absolutely HATE improvisations," the diplomat said. Elaine scanned over the papers quickly. She had prepared and left them here several years ago against such a need as this. The ambassador led her to an area just behind the stables. There sat a battered-looking peddlars wagon. Closer examination showed that it was quite sound, and filled with everything she would need for her cover. "When the situation started getting bad I had someone acquire this," the diplomat said. "This will suit your needs better than one just mule." Elaine nodded. The woman was right. The White Tower did not appoint fools to its diplomatic service. This would suit her purposes very well. Because they carried things that people in small villages and hamlets wanted and needed, this wagon would get her into just about any place she wanted. The wagon was packed with pots and pans and pins and needles and everything else that a village woman or farmer's wife would need. There were even a few luxuries for those that could afford them. There was also a sleeping area for those nights when she would be caught in between stops. Plus there was the fact that peddlars, regardless of age or gender, were for almost all purposes sacrosanct. No one would bother her for fear that if they did then word would get around to the larger community and peddlars would stop calling. The horses looked like broken-down nags but were actually quite hale and healthy. Elaine softly whistled at the horses and the wagon moved through the embassy gate. It was close to midnight and the streets were clear. Just before she left the leaned down and had a final word with the aes sedai. "Send a message back to Tar Valon that it will probably be a few weeks before I get back in contact. It will take that long for me to work my way south to where I want to be." She quickly reached the main road and traveled for several hours and then bedded down for the night. She was back on the road at first light, heading towards Illian. She worked her way gradually towards the border, plying her trade along the way. The people were starved for news, as they always were, and plied her with questions about what was going on elsewhere in the world. She also heard more than her share of scandalous gossip. People always loved to talk, and they especially loved to talk to someone new, and so she was treated to the minor goings on of every place she went. Elaine had no trouble crossing the border. The guards really weren't interested in anybody going south. Her wagon, and the clink of a few coins, were enough to ensure that she went through uninspected. She didn't look anything like she did in Tar Valon; a battered old wide-brimmed hat and nondescript, patched clothing, along with some hair dye. took care of that. She did get the chance once to send a message. There was an inn in a small village about three days travel into Illian. The innkeeper acknowledged her recognition signal, and later that night took her to an isolated area in the woods where he kept messenger birds. One was on its way to Caemlyn at first light. The message was simple: I'm alive. She had been on the road for about six weeks when she arrived at a large town, actually pretty close to being able to call itself a city, on the the main road. The weather had been starting to turn bad; cold rain and frost. Winter would be arriving soon, and she would need a place to lay up. She would be made welcome at the local inn, peddlars did enough business even over the winter that they kept a steady stream of customers coming in for food and drink and talk. There was another reason that this was an ideal place. Just off the road there was an army encampment. She could see that it was just barely half filled, and there was a constant stream of wagons and troops coming. Her guess had been right then. This was going to be one of the main staging areas for the push north. She parked her wagon by the inn, watched as the stable boy unhitched her horses and took them into the stable, and went in to meet her contact. Edited by Elaine Treherne, May 10 2009, 09:35 PM.
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Countess. Spymaster to the High King and Queen Elaine's story | |
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| Elaine Treherne | May 10 2009, 10:47 PM Post #2 |
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Spymaster to the High King and Queen
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Elaine was met at the door by a man just a few years younger than her. He returned her recognition signal. "Good evening, Mistress. Welcome to our inn. My name is Colin and I'm the oldest son of the owner. Would you like to bespeak a meal and a room for the night, or would you possibly wish to stay longer?" He offered to take her duffel, which she passed to him, and then led her into the inn. The entranceway had a cloakroom just off of it to the right, and then opened onto a huge common room. Along with the smell of tabac, the room was filled with the wonderful, rich aroma of food. Elaine had been on the road for about six days straight, making her own camps and making her own meals, and he rmouth watered at the prospect of an of a rich savory stew or a roast with all the trimmings. The other people in the bar looked at her briefly as she passed and then went back to their dinners and drinkiing. As far as they were concerned she was just another customer. Her escort led her to a older, larger version of himself. She saw the recognition signals and finger-speech that passed between them and merely nodded ever so slightly at the older man's look. "Good evening, Mistress," he said by way of greeting. "My name is Sicard and I'm the proud owner of this establishment. You've already met my oldest son. Are you here just for a meal and a night, or would you be looking for a longer stay? If you are, I have just a room for you on the usual terms." Those terms were that Elaine would help where she could with the mending of whatever needed it around the inn during the winter, and that she would practice her trade in the inn's common room in return for room and board for the bad-weather months. It was a fair enough exchange, for her presence would bring in a lot of customers among the local farm folk and townsmen, therefore bringing in a lot of business to the inn. Sicard would more than make back what it would cost him to put her up. Elaine nodded. "I'll be happy to, Master Sicard. My name is Elaine. The weather is going to be far too nasty for traveling before long, and your establishment looks to be a fine one." "Excellent!" the owner exclaimed. "I'll have my son show you to your room, and then my oldest daughter will show you to the bathhouse around back so you can clean and change before dinner. We have a nice lamb stew tonight, and I think you'll like our hot apple cider." Elaine thanked him and followed the son. She knew the man somewhat slightly. She had stopped by her a couple of times over the years; the last being about three years ago. Her predecessor Matteo had set Sicard up in business just over ten years ago when he had retired from the Gold Eagles after suffering a wound that while not life-threatening, made it impossible for him to continue on campaign. He had been a useful listening post over the years, and his inn was ideally placed for her to observe what was going on. |
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Countess. Spymaster to the High King and Queen Elaine's story | |
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5:36 AM Nov 23
