Concessions

Desdem - Islana’s Tent
JP with Omni, mdman, and Cindy

Ch’Truta immediately froze upon entering her tent. She had been in the midst of a meeting with her other advisors. He gazed upon them, registering their high esteem of her leadership. They were as near enamored with Islana as was he.

Ch’Truta inwardly cursed himself for his impulsiveness. He should have investigated if someone else were with Sister Locust before announcing there may be a problem.

He apologetically gazed upon her beauty, hoping for grace. The information was meant for her ears only, but now others know of a possible threat to Sister Locust.

And who were these others? Leaders of another band wishing to join under Islana’s leadership? Others pledging their loyalty? If his words had come before any agreement was made, this could add to their problems.

If he were to announce Silina’s threat in front of all, it would most likely cause problems. He should have quietly eliminated the threat instead of seeking her approval to do so. Sometimes it was better to seek forgiveness.

Yet, Ch’Truta wished to honor her leadership. If he were to take matters into his own hands, what would that say of his love for her? This love caused him to be torn as well. Should he announce it, others would say he was seeking control. That wasn’t the case. Other than his own small group of people back in the valley, Ch’Truta was always in a supportive role. With Wurm, this was so. With Islana, he would choose to bow and honor her with his life.

He could see why others. followed her. She led with grace and wisdom. In fact, Ch’Truta could not understand why Silina and those following her would dispute Sister Locust. The sisters dwelt within Islana. They chose her. He so much as told Silina this by the tree.

It still did not make sense to Raud how this foreign woman came to be the leader of the Ozainae, fighting against here very own, but he rose at Sister Locust's instruction.

‘are you aware of who is fighting in this war?’ She had asked

'Are you?' he thought to himself, holding his tongue from the spiteful retort, for he knew it would do little to serve himself or his people. Instead he settled for a more measured response, “We are aware, Sister Locust.”

Everyone in the tent turned with unease at the sudden entrance of Ch'Truta who just as soon took his leave.

As the Umnac guardian excused himself, Izdärasen, slowly returned his curved blade fully into its sheath, keeping a nervous hand poised on its hilt.

Tension defused from the guards and the Odsier chieftain’s shoulders settled as he gave a sigh of relief, “We share a common enemy. My people have experienced a profound upheaval. Our way of life, sundered. Our kin and their children lie scattered on the plains. Their spirits unable to rest. For they have no one to give them burial rites... Only a fool would think to stand against the risen Maelstrom marching east."

The way Raud saw it, his people had little choice but to flee into the wild heart of Arcadia, or die fighting the invaders. He regretted not repelling them from the shores years ago.

The sudden interruption threw Islana off for a moment. She thought Ch'Truta would know better than to just barge in like that, however, he seemed to realize his mistake quickly and left. She would speak to him later.

"I have heard of the slaying of your people by the hands of those from Ostiarium and that at the hands of the Odonine. " Islana commented. "I do understand why you would want to fight the foreigners to this land, but I must ask if are you certain that you want to fight with the ones I have a treaty with, the Odonine." Islana questioned only because she didn't want anything to backfire on her.

Raud paused, the weight of Islana's question pressing upon him. He knew the gravity of what was being asked, the alliances formed, and the enemies shared. His gaze hardened, reflecting the near-resolve of a leader who had seen too much loss, yet was prepared to make difficult choices for the survival of his people. Before he made a decision, he had to know...

"The blood of my people is barely dry on their blades and the Odonine turn traitor against their allies from Helias. The land you hail from... What is the nature of your treaty, where do my people fall into those plans, and do you trust that the people of Fang will not turn on their word when they have what they want? "

Ch’Truta stood outside Islana’s…Sister Locust’s tent. He wished the meeting would be hurried. However, Ch’Truta knew that diplomacy takes time.

If he only knew what her wishes would be, he’d carry it out. Of course, she took the cautious way once before. That turned out well so far.

If it were up to him, all who spoke out against Islana would die. It was how he protected Wurm and Wurm rose in the ranks of the Bloodletters. Wurm was a good warrior, wise and strong. It was a good combination. Ch’Truta trusted the man with his life.

Islana…Sister Locust, even more so. The swamp spirits led him to her. The more he thought of her, he envisioned her long auburn hair and colorful eyes. Though she was young, her bearing made her seem much older. Wise, beyond her years. The thought of anyone lifting their hand toward her boiled Ch’Truta’s blood.

Perhaps he should mix a solution and seek the swamp spirit’s guidance. There were two items in which he needed their guidance. First, Silina: should he just go ahead and kill her? If he did, would that bring a greater division in the midst of the ranks?

The second, Islana: what would they think of his feelings for her? Would Sister Locust even be allowed a relationship of that nature? Now, of course is not an appropriate time for these thoughts. Ch’Truta realized this. The war was the primary thrust of her thoughts. This left no room for anything else.

Ch’Truta scanned the area about the tent. If he were to lay eyes upon Silina, Ch’Truta may not be able to help himself. His hand stayed upon his spear, at the ready.

The treaty wasn't that complicated, and Islana knew there was no reason to lie. "The War Chieftain, Koshnem, only asked that when we win the war the Odonine get the Northern lands that used to belong to your kind." The Sister paused. "As you are probably aware the Helians do not just hate all magick but want to destroy it, I believe it might have been more of a surprise if the Odonine had not changed sides." Islana thought for a moment. "There was no talk of what would happen to your people. I assume most of whom are not dead are likely slaves under the thumb of the Odonine." That wasn't a question, because Islana knew the Odonine liked to gain slaves, it was the likely outcome. " If you fight with the Horde, you also fight with the Odonine. I wouldn't send you physically to Fang or send you to them but in principle that would be the reality. You and those with you can not retaliate against them, doing so would be certain death. Can you agree to those conditions?"

Raud hesitated, looking at the others of counsel and guardianship within the woman's tent, then he met Islana's gaze with a mix of skepticism and hope. "We understand well the gravity of the threat posed by the Helians and their crusade against magik. We believe you are our best hope, but before we agree to terms... I would do a disservice to my people if I left our own wishes unstated. Allying with the Odonine... is indeed a bitter pill that we will have to swallow... but what assurances can you make that my people will not be forgotten in this alliance? We seek a guarantee, a pact, perhaps, that ensures the safety and autonomy of my people within the new order that the victory of the Sand Horde would bring. If we fight, we should share in the victory. We want only to be free from the Odonine. And if they are to hold the North, then let there be clear boundaries and rights for those who call it home... and safe passage and return for the Odsier people. What say you to that, Sister?"

"I do not believe I can get Koshnem to free the current slaves, nor can I ask that of him." There was a delicate balance to be maintained, after all. "Being that Koshnmen would also have to agree to this, for it to be enstated, as your kin would be going through their land. I cannot promise that until I speak to the Warcheiftan." Sister Locust thought for a moment. "I can offer you this, that if Koshnem will not agree to the arrangement, you and those with you will be welcomed in the holy city. I believe there are unused lands on the outskirts which you would be welcome to. I know it is not ideal, but your people would be free and able to live." Besides, having the Odsier in her territory might come in handy in the future.

Raud processed Islana's words and took a moment, weighing the options before him, understanding the constraints she faced and the subtle offer she extended. What choice did he have? “Sister Locust, you offer us a chance to rebuild and prosper, away from the shadow of the Odonine and the turmoil that has plagued us. The prospect of settling in the holy city, on new lands where we can live freely, is a significant concession… but my people are nomadic, and we know nothing of desert survival. While I am willing to entertain this proposal, I must discuss it further with my people.”

The sisters inside of Islana, and possibly her advisors were concerned with the concessions she had given but Islana was not about to offer anything she didn't really have to give.

"I understand," she did, it was a lot to ask of the wanderers. "The Horde will be moving on in the next few days. I will give you until tomorrow morning to decide."

Raud of the Red Crows nodded in understanding. “Very well. I will speak with my people at once.”

A guard held the tent flap opening for Raud’s exit, but he paused for a moment, looking out towards the horizon where the desert met the sky. "We have always followed the cycle of the herds… perhaps it is time to seek a new direction, to follow a new herd. Our decision will not be made lightly. The survival and freedom of my people are my utmost priorities. But know this, regardless of our choice, the respect and understanding you've shown us will not be forgotten. We too wish for a future where our children can grow without fear."

With that, the Odsier chief took his leave, back towards his horse, the setting sun casting long shadows on the ground.