| Logs |
2011 July 30
| Neverneverwhere |
| Realms |
Retired
| Reality Fault |
General Info
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| Realms: Taps Logs |
Dreamers Ride Against the Men of Action
Roy is a consummate performer and Eacharn is a consummate courtier. They both make transformations on the walk down to the makeshift brig -- the Proud Mary is a pleasure vessel, after all. Roy's easy, swinging walk and cocksure smile turn into a purposeful stalk and a granite-faced expressionless that's somehow more intimidating than a scowl. Eacharn's gait is more stolid but no less threatening, and his expression is one of disgust and distaste. Both are playing parts, but it's only obvious to those who know them intimately.
Sulochana strolls along the deck of the Proud Mary with one arm contentedly about Roy's waist. If Eacharn seems comfortable with it, she's also happy to either take his hand, or to walk with her hand courteously on his arm. Right now the Hetaera is feeling safe, warmly loved, well fed, and mostly up to her normal energy levels. As she cheerfully notes, while heading to Sam's room, it's not like the man can go back to the Houston Warlord any more, even if he hadn't yielded to her in the battle on the antiquated riverboat. So... it seems to her it's a good bet their prisoner is indeed Houston's former man.
Roy says, "May be, cherie, but he had ever' intention of carryin' out Houston's orders. Weren't for your fast talkin', it'd been Mary we rescued last night." The Hetaera sighs softly and nods once -- that, she cannot argue with.
Guarding the door of Sam's room are two of Roy's men, just as he promised Sulochana. They both straighten and nod to the little group, and one of them asks, "Want the door opened, sir?"
Roy snorts and says, "Naw. Wanna talk to 'im through it." He's careful to give the guard a brief smile to let him know he's not angry with the question. The guard -- a young and earnest man -- flushes sheepishly at the other guard's snicker, but gives the king a wan smile. He pulls out the key, unlocking the door and swinging it open for entry. He starts to say something, then hesitates, clearly unsure.
Inside the room (which is usually reserved for the ship's crew and is therefore smaller and less ostentatious than the guest cabins), Sam is sitting on the bottom fold-out bunk. His hat sits beside him; his elbows rest on his thighs, hands dangling down between his knees. His head is down and a rosary is in one hand. Sulochana smiles at the nervous guard, then glances into the room. She raises an eyebrow -- as far as she knows, rosaries are unusual! Sam raises his head when the door opens, and quickly tucks the rosary away. He stands, as a gentleman does when a lady or royalty enters a room, "Your Majesties. Ma'am."
Finally the guard hesitantly asks, "Uh, yer majesty... you want the door closed b'hind you 'r not, please?" Roy looks around the tiny room and says, "Much as it's gonna feel like a sardine can, might be best."
Sulochana slips neatly into the room as Roy speaks to the guard; she's not worried Sam will attack her. Eacharn frowns and hastens in next to her, glaring in silent warning at the prisoner. 'Chana nods pleasantly to the prisoner, "Good morning, Sam. I trust breakfast was acceptable?" Noticing his Bowie knife is missing, she adds with a smile, "I do not doubt your weapon is being kept in good condition as well." She's not quite ready yet to assume he'll have it returned to him... although she's fairly sure. The Hetaera glances around for seats as the door is carefully closed, then shakes her head amusedly; there's maybe two spaces on the bed -- three if people are willing to be cozy -- and a single chair. She looks around interestedly to see where the various men sit.
Neither Roy nor Eacharn seem inclined to sit, and Sam is standing politely. Roy pulls out the chair and says, "Cherie, why'n't you have a seat. This might go on a bit."
Sam nods to 'Chana's questions and says, "The food was quite good. Much better'n what we've had on the road. I appreciate that." He directs that last to Roy, who dips his head briefly, "Ain't a complete asshole. Been a prisoner m'self a time 'r two."
Sulochana is seating herself with a grateful smile to Roy; she's relieved he's making sure she won't actually collapse if she has to do something that uses up a lot of energy. At Roy's comment, however, she blinks -- then gets an interested grin, "Really now! I shall have to ask you about that later, sweetheart!" She giggles, then grins at Sam, "All right. Sam, yes? You know who these two gentlemen are, I take it. I cannot recall if, in the middle of last night's furor, we were introduced, so I'll remedy that now." She holds out a hand, her eyes twinkling, "I am the Lady Hetaera Sulochana Sesha, although this could, I do not doubt, be a more pleasant meeting under other circumstances." The Hetaera will use touch to help her make a stronger connection while she checks the young man's chakras.
Sam takes her hand and bows over it in a gentlemanly manner; it's a somewhat stiffer gesture than either of the kings might offer. "Ma'am, I cannot apologize enough for the indignity to which you were subjected." Roy snorts at that, and Eacharn hmphs quietly.
Sulochana's eyes twinkle even more brightly at that, but all she says is a demure, "Well, perhaps we can start with that, then. Would you tell us, please, why exactly you and the Warlord of Houston thought kidnapping was an acceptable form of, ahh... inter-city negotiation?"
Roy growls, "Yeah. I was wonderin' that m'ownself. He's already a prick, but this shit is just beyond the pale."
Sam pales slightly; in his experience, royalty cursing is Not Good. The cowboy says, "In truth, I tried to convince the Warlord that this was not a good idea. But I was already on his sh- bad side. He's had success with using hostages before."
Roy's eyes blaze and Eacharn's fists clench at this admission. Roy doesn't trust himself to ask the questions, and he's very glad 'Chana is taking the lead. Sulochana no longer looks amused; she looks instead shocked and dismayed, "He... this is a recurring problem?! Oh, dear. Who -- does he still hold any, or does he eventually release them?" Unwittingly she puts one small hand against her throat, her voice soft, "Are they... all children?"
Sam says, "Kids, wives, lovers, parents. Whoever he thinks will give him leverage. When I left, he was holding the daughter of one of his landholders." He clears his throat, "I think that may have had more to do with the lady in question than anything else."
'Chana's eyes are starting to smolder -- not in a good way -- but she simply says, "Explain, please."
Sam clears his throat again, "She's a lovely girl. 'Bout twelve or thirteen. Think the Warlord has his eye on her in a year or two. His excuse was that her daddy was bein'... what were his words... dangerously insubordinate."
Sulochana goes utterly still, clenching her hands in her lap and taking slow, deep breaths for several seconds so she doesn't do something... regrettable. Finally she turns her blazingly angry regard on Sam, speaking with care, "Do I understand you to say the Warlord is holding a girl hostage... because he intends to force her to marry him?" Despite the tension in her body -- which those intimate with her can recognize easily -- she appears to be sitting relaxedly, and her voice is still low and softly modulated... almost indifferent sounding, to the unwary. Roy, recognizing 'Chana's anger -- and feeling rather a lot of his own -- rests a hand gently on her shoulder.
Sam is quite well-aware of 'Chana's nature, and he knows there are beings somewhere close by who are powerful in one way or another. He's not about to try deceiving a being he suspects may be able to smell a lie. The Houstonian is miserable, but tells the truth, "Ma'am, I don't think he's got any intention of marryin' her."
Sulochana's shoulder is rigid under Roy's hand, although at the touch she tries to loosen up a bit. Sam's words, though, cause her eyes to flash scarlet for an instant, and she unwittingly gives a short, furious hiss. Eacharn is frowning as well, but he's more concerned with his Lady at this point. Roy's voice is soft, almost friendly, "So, he's basically keepin' 'er 'till he can turn 'er inta a concubine. Reckon she's got no say there, either." Sam shakes his head miserably.
Sulochana's voice is soft with unwitting menace as she nearly whispers, "And you... did you lead all the kidnappings?"
Sam can tell he's on thin ice here and he is glad he can say with all honesty, "Dear Heavenly Mother, no!"
Sulochana sighs softly, closing her eyes and deliberately relaxing a little... then she raises her dark stare to the prisoner again, "If you do not agree with this... political play... then why do you serve him?"
Sam shakes his head and sinks back into his seat without thinking, as if he's just too tired to stand any longer, "Was a time he wa'n't no worse than ennybody else an' a damn sight better'n the other options."
Sulochana tilts her head in slightly horrified wonder, her voice unwittingly sharp, "You thought a kidnapper better than... other options?!"
Sam shakes his head again, "Ma'am, the kidnappin's have been in the last few years. When he took power, he took it from a guy who useta put heads on pikes outside the walls o' his mansion. Usually of women an' children of his enemies."
Sulochana winces at that, nodding once, "Dear Goddess. Yes, I remember now. Corbett never went further south than where the Amazons roam for that very reason. It took us nearly a decade to decide to trust the reports coming from that area." She studies Sam silently, her expression still unhappy, then adds, "So... I think I would like a bit of your biography, please. If I am taking responsibility for you on your oath, then I would like to know who and what exactly you are."
The cowboy says, "He was the lesser of two evils. Turns out the lesser of two evils is still fu- still evil." Sam nods to Sulochana's request, saying, "I'm a cowboy, ma'am. Bit of a fighter when it's needed. My family's been in Houston since before the Dyin' Off. Since way before."
The Hetaera murmurs, "And your family's relationship with the various Warlords?"
Sam takes a deep breath, "Mostly avoidin' them much as we could. Payin' tribute when it was asked. I actually knew the current Warlord when we were younger. We worked the same ranch. Joined up to mebbe keep things from gettin' bad. Once or twice I actually talked 'im out of some stupidity. Last time I tried...." He shrugs, a wry smile on his face, "I got sent to kidnap a little girl. Which I didn't do very well with."
Sulochana sighs quietly, relief flooding through her at hearing how little Sam has been involved in the kidnappings. A small smile quirks her lips as she murmurs, "Well... you had no way of knowing." She sighs softly again, adding, "Just as well for all of us. So," her grave, almond-shaped eyes are steady on Sam's face, "what do you want to do now?"
Sam looks down at the ground a bit, turning his cowboy hat around and around by the brim as he thinks. Finally he raises his eyes and says, "Well, goin' back to Houston isn't an option." Sulochana nods silently, her golden-eyed gaze steady on the prisoner. There's a faintly wry quirk to her lips as she waits for him to go on. The cowboy gives Sulochana a long, thoughtful look, then says, "You mentioned Corbett and traveling. Like the caravan, right?"
Sulochana smiles faintly, "The very same, yes. I take it you are familiar with Corbett's Cross-Continent Caravan?" There's a hint of pride in her voice; she's done her best to keep things going the way she thinks her inspirations -- Corbett and Joan -- would have wanted it.
Sam says, "Ma'am, ennybody with any links to trade knows about that caravan. It an', what, five others got the balls to go cross-continent on the regular?" He doesn't seem to notice that particular slip of the tongue, despite the fact that he's been doing his best to watch his language around the lady and the kings.
Sulochana laughs in soft delight at that, her eyes sparkling -- then lifts her chin in a proud grin, "Down to three of us these last few years, actually... but I suspect Rassmussen's offspring may get itchy feet soon!" She adds more quietly, "Ko Matsui's went missing two years ago over the Rockies. We keep an eye out for any possible survivors." Eacharn blinks, his expression going absolutely impassive. Internally he's horrified, however. He'd not realized occasionally caravans simply vanish! The thought of that happening to his Lady Edana gives him cold chills... perhaps once he's replaced himself as king in St. Louis he'll just tag along with the caravan; make sure his Lady stays safe.
Sam nods and continues fiddling with his hat. At the news of a caravan going missing, Roy's hand tightens on 'Chana's shoulder; he worries enough about her as it is. Sulochana tilts her head in silent inquiry to Roy, not realizing what's bothering him -- does he have a question for Sam? Finally the Houstonian says, "Don't s'ppose you got need for outriders and wranglers?" He hurriedly continues, "That is, if His Majesty sees fit not to put me in chains for the rest of my natural-born life."
Sulochana smiles faintly at Sam's query, murmuring, "I believe we might be able to find a bit of space for you... if my head wrangler and cargomaster give you the thumbs up. You should know we do still occasionally stop in Houston, though. We'll be avoiding it for the near future, due to the war -- we have no desire to assist the 'other' side, after all -- but at some point we may well return there. Would that bother you?"
Roy smirks down at Sam and says, "Why on earth would I wanna feed ya fer forty or fifty years? Pris'ners 'round here earn their keep. Goin' on the road with ma cherie sounds like a way to earn out yer debt. What say no pay for the first year?"
Sulochana laughs softly again, "He'll be working mostly for room and board as it is. I suspect he'll more than earn his keep, however... once the others find out what he almost did." Her small smile is wickedly mischievous, "What do you say, cowboy? They may be hard on you, but they won't try to kill or kidnap you. Think you can keep up with us?"
Sam doesn't answer immediately; he's staring hard at the ground. This turn of events means leaving his home and his roots, probably for good. The expression on his face is serious and it's perhaps five minutes later that he says, "Yeah. OK. If you'll have me."
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