Date: August 15, 1999
Place: Pasha's Chambers - Atesh-Gah - Haven
Cast: Amineh, Cassius, Maat, Shahar
Scene: Cassius goes to meet with several Varati representatives -- the Pasha of Haven, a Nabi in the Atarvani, and the Shakir of Al'Samar -- in the hopes of gaining their cooperation in finding a cure for the plague.

It's a grey-skied afternoon outdoors, the chill breeze carrying the promise of frost and the threat of snow. Atesh-Gah is quiet -- hushed is a better word for it, perhaps, those within talking in brief snippets between prayers and house-bound duties.

The Pasha's chambers are flanked by two additional guards this day -- two Akhund, falcares at their hip. They speak to no one, composed in meditative calm. Within the chambers are the other two Akhund comprising the Nabi's honor guard -- the ones with spears and crossbows, weapons of killing at a distance. Precautions for the arriving... ah, guest. The Nabi herself stands near the Pasha, hands clasped behind her back, composed in silence like her guards. Waiting.

Removed from the scene, settled upon her cushions in a plethora of ruby silks, Shahar seems distant as the moon for which she was named, and from the downturn of her lips she is not enjoying the prospect of this meeting.

Maat is allowed into the chambers, though the guards give her a wide berth. She smells antiseptically clean and there is not a trace of charred flesh, smoke, dirt or beans upon her. Her clothing is freshly pressed. Only her eyes belie the perky nature of her garments. The eyes are tired and deep lines are etched into their corners. Upon reaching the Nabi and the Pasha, she bows deeply, but from a distance, then moves to the side so that she is present, yet not the focus of attention.

Cassius enters last, escorted by a pair of the ever-stoic, ever-silent Agni-Haidar. He had been checked over by a healer before allowed entrance to the embassy, and from the vague irritation still present on his face, the 'inspection' was not overly courteous. But with healers in short supply and vastly overworked, the slight may not have been personal.

The heavy tramp of booted feet had announced the guards' approach, with him moving between them. They greet the two Akhund stationed outside the door, and are allowed to pass -- Cassius receiving some curious looks. It is with dignity that he enters the Pasha's chambers, head and shoulders erect, wings stiffly folded -- and only a few faint lines of fatigue hinting at the illness he'd recently survived. As he steps into the chambers, his pale eyes skim over the occupants, and he inclines his head to Shahar first. "Pasha," he greets, then bows his head to both Maat and Amineh in succession. "Shakir, Imphada. Thank you for meeting with me on such short notice."

"Shakir," the Nabi intones when Maat enters, bowing forward slightly with her head inclined. A respectful, if mild greeting. She straightens, robes rustling with the slight movement, inkblack eyes moving to the door as it opens. Cassius is focussed on, knife-keen, as he steps inside. No bow, no greeting, just that level, stone-steady stare. After a few moments: "May the Amir-al's wisdom grace us all during this meeting." A little dour, perhaps -- she's asking the Most High to grant wisdom to a kafir, after all.

The figure in ruby silks barely stirs, retaining that stony demeanor that has been evidenced since those attending the meeting arrived. When she speaks, her voice is pitched lower than the norm, quieter than the norm. "Namaste, Shakir of Al'Samar, Nabi of our Amir-Al..." The lioness' eyes flicker to Cassius, the tone cools. "Ambassador." Places have been readied for those in attendance, and Kassa, Shahar's attendant, gestures to them in lieu of her mistress's invitation to sit.

Maat moves toward the seat provided for her. Her greeting of Cassius, a bare, "Deus," is a meager thing and quickly missed as it happens a split second before she seats herself. As if waiting for the purpose of the meeting to be stated, she spends the time arranging her hands suitably in her lap.

Cassius' pale eyes narrow just a touch, but otherwise, he shows no reaction to the rather lukewarm greetings he received. At Kassa's urging, he moves toward the offered chair, politely waiting until all the women have seated themselves before doing so himself. His wings unfurl part way, then curve back inward once he is settled. He tips his head deferentially to Shahar -- she being the highest-ranking Varati here -- at least as he perceives the hierarchy. "As I wrote in my letter, I have been asked to meet with you by the Emperor. The plague currently devastating this city is of grave concern -- not just to us, but to you as well, I would imagine." He glances toward Maat, no doubt having heard of her tireless efforts to care for the refugees. "The Emperor hoped that I might be able to glean some new information about the nature of the sickness, so that we might better combat it. I had hoped that a meeting would yield some results we could not reach on our own, individually."

Ah, Kassa. Amineh inclines her head to the girl, eyes approaching a semblance of warmth, and moves to the indicated chair, settling quietly into it. One gnarled hand rests upon the armrest, the other absently stroking the fire opal she wears. Eyes move to Shahar, then Maat, then return their focus to Cassius. "Your Emperor comes to us for wisdom," she muses. "Curious." She looks back to the Pasha, holding further comment for now.

"Perhaps it would bring understanding to our ears, Ambassador, if we were to know the nature of the wisdom you seek." Cool, composed, removed from the undertone of anxiety which courses through the room, Shahar keeps her greenish-gold gaze upon the visiting Empyrean and further notes, "The sickness appears to have begun with your people, Deus. If your healers, if the Delphi, are at a loss, then what we may offer is difficult to appreciate."

Maat offers no words to guide Cassius, but allows Shahar, as is her right, to speak for the Varati. Instead, she gazes at the Empyrean with solemn eyes, still enough in her chair that the very air would move through her and must be reminded at the last minute to part.

Cassius' gaze alights first on Amineh, then Shahar, and his jaw tightens subtly before he speaks. "A plague bears no prejudice, imphadas. It will as easily strike down your people as mine. This is why I come to you now -- already, the city of Haven is at great risk, but at least the sickness remains in this city. As long as it is contained, we might be able to come up with a cure in time." His gaze slides over to Maat, noting her subdued demeanor and her silence -- a difference from the sly, sharp-tongued woman he remembers. Perhaps hoping to cajole a spark of animation from her, he comments, "The Emperor plans to meet with the Sylvans, in the hopes that their knowledge of herbs will yield some useful advice. But the Varati, I am told, have medicines and powders that cannot grow anywhere but underground. I presume you have already exhausted these options, with no results?"

"To that, I feel that the Shakir may address our efforts most accurately, as it is upon her shoulders that the weight of the Varati involvement is felt." Luminous greenish-gold eyes shift toward Maat, though Shahar's expression remains otherwise smooth.

Maat lifts her head enough that the light can glint off the gold of her irises. The color is the only fire within, for her lack of energy emanates from her eyes, the exhaustion of her days having sapped the spark which marked her presence before the plague. In a voice that is not quiet, but subdued from fatigue, she says into the silence that exists upon completion of Shahar's words, "If the sick leave the city before they are properly cured, then the plague could spread to all ends of the land. Even now, some are strong enough to take the money offered by House Tritonis and vanish from Haven's domain before they are fully well. They could be carrying disease to the Empyre. Perhaps it were ought best that the Empyre formed a single unified plan to help its people rather than seeking hither and yon for fast cures and quick answers. Verily, the Varati have herbs, but they are in our varas, not here in Haven. Though Al'Samar has brought the few medicines grown in our home, it will take time for the Healers in Haven to determine if they are efficacious."

After a short space of silence following the Shakir's speech, Cassius nods. His expression is contemplative -- whatever annoyance he feels at the accusation in the woman's tones is buried. "I do not want our citizens to leave at all," he remarks. "Even those who have isolated themselves in the Palladium could be carrying the disease, and should they leave Haven, they will carry it with them. But to contain everyone in the city would be nigh-impossible... and even were it feasible, it would require the cooperation of all four governments, as well as Delphi." His eyes shift toward the Pasha. "Your own people are just as capable of being vessels for this sickness. If I were to urge the Emperor to forbid anyone from leaving Haven until we found a cure, would you do the same?"

In response, Shahar sinks against the comforting familiarity of her cushions, fingers lacing together upon her lap before she brings said fingers toward her full lips. While carefully scrutinizing Cassius, Shahar responds blandly, "And what of the mongrels, of those who look only to the Delphi, of the criminal element? Do you seek only to contain the damage, Dominus?"

Maat turns her head so that she can speak to Shahar, but does not lean toward the Pasha as one usually would when seeking to make a comment. "Imphada Pasha, we are the Children of the Amir-al and we shall do as he bids, but the disorderliness of the Empyrean government leaves me little belief that a word from the Emperor will result in a singular action by all his people." The words are soft, obviously meant for Shahar, yet due to the distance of her seat, they must be overheard.

"I have no divine abilities," Cassius speaks up, with a wry curve of his mouth. His gaze swerves to take in Maat and Amineh in turn. "Nor does my Emperor. I know that we could not prevent everyone from leaving Haven's boundaries, and as this is a trade-city, Delphi could not sanction such a request for long. It is not a solution -- only a means to an end. We must find a cure for this plague." For once, something beyond cool reason enters his tone -- an urgency and a thread of desperation that is far more personal. "We do not know how far it may spread. How many lives it might take." The hint of wry humor is gone, belligerence in its place. "And we four can sit here and cast aspersions on one another, or we can take action. The Varati kingdom is just as vulnerable to this blight. Else you would not lock yourselves in your embassy and forbid your own people traffic between."

"This pestilence began in the tent city," the Nabi notes coolly, absently stroking her fire opal pendant again, glimmery black eyes on Cassius. "A slum of mongrels and kafir that survived not because of their own kind's benevolence, but ours. The pestilence began there, and has hit the weaker races hardest of all. The Varati have weathered it admirably, as is to be expected; the Divine Flame protects those who stand in His light." So casually noted -- she might as well be pointing out the sky is blue. "We keep to our homes not out of vulnerability or fear, but the knowledge that even a kafir disease may strike us down if trifled with." Amineh reclasps her hands in her lap, stroking a henna-rendered flame with her thumb. "There is a lesson to be learned in this, perhaps, that even the Surah of Compassion has its limits. It would be far more merciful to put the refugees out of their misery, and pray Ashur Masad casts them into an honorable rebirth."

There's a sudden screech of wood against tile as the legs of Cassius' chair scrape along the floor. He half-rises, palms flat on the table, wings partially unfurling, and fixes glittering, ice-blue eyes on Amineh. "No," he tells the Nabi, low-voiced yet furious. "You blame us for not caring for our sick and homeless? It is because we had nothing to give them! You took it all -- you and your God-King. And now you sit there, smug and self-righteous, and mention compassion in the same breath as destruction? What kind of woman are you?" His temper has gotten ahead of his tongue, and diplomacy is, for the moment, forgotten.

Into this, Shahar speaks mildly, with the briefest, lightest touch of reproof in her voice. "Deus... Nabi. If you please."

Maat states in the same tired voice, a combination of weakness and determination, "We provided your people with compassion after your pride led you to folly. We housed your people, clothed your people, and kept them warm, but we cannot instill in them the virtues that are necessary to prevent and end plagues: determination, cooperation, and organization. We can speak the truth of the Amir-al's teaching, but if the proud turn a deaf ear, then the words are in vain." Her words are a bitter slap, stabbing despite the drum-like cadence in which they are spoken.

"And who, now," comes Cassius' rebuttal, still low and angry, "is suggesting cooperation and organization, and who is turning a deaf ear?" His head had swiveled toward Maat, but now it swings back to Amineh. Slowly, he subsides back into his chair, gradually trying to master a temper that had, for a moment, raged out of control. He draws in a deep breath, fixing upon Shahar now. "What I wish to know, Pasha, is whether or not we will receive any cooperation from you. Will our healers be able to confer with yours? Will you cease traffic to and from Haven if we do? Will you allow your secret herbs and medicines to be tried on the plague's victims? And will you send for some of your strongest healers, as we are doing, to see whether or not their combined forces can stop a plague that, alone, we cannot destroy?"

Amineh looks to Shahar, and inclines her head, eyes briefly closed. "My apologies, Imphada Pasha," she murmurs. Truly. She didn't mean to bait the good Ambassador. All right, maybe she's a little sorry -- she takes a deep breath, and speaks to Cassius again, this time in a somewhat more charitable tone. "Destruction and compassion; these are two of the natures of the Amir-al. He created Lycenae anew, yet allowed the common folk to escape before He did. He destroyed many of your cities, yet accepted your surrender in the end. It is through His compassion that your Empyre -- and you, Ambassador -- survives at all." That's charitable? She spreads her hands out slightly and admits, "It is a difficult lesson for candala to fathom." See? She even said 'candala' instead of 'kafir' and is actually trying -- in her very biased way -- to explain herself. She studies Cassius for a few seconds longer, then turns her attention to Pasha, awaiting her reply to the Empyrean's questions.

For her part, the Pasha awaits the end of Amineh's enlightenment to Cassius before interjecting her words. Pasha she may be, but Shahar is a devout creature, and the Nabi garners much respect from the other woman. "We have no desire to see the Empyre perish in its entirety from this disease," she commences patiently, "and thus, you see, our cooperation with you is not out of the question. Our Amir-al, the Divine Flame who warms and guides us all, has wed an Empyrean; does not his acceptance of the Maharani indicate our minds should be open to your race?" She moistens her lips with the tip of her tongue, and as if on cue Kassa pounces on the cool water nearby to offer the guests something to drink. "Clan Behzad has among them an herbalist named Devi. I would have her speak with your healers to see what aid she may lend."

Maat waves her hand at Kassa, refusing any refreshment and its container. She seems to have some opinion on the state the Empyre's ability to cooperate internally based on the tightness about her eyes, but she holds her tongue and waits for further demands from the Ambassador.

"You need not remind me," Cassius says stiffly to Amineh, "of the 'compassion' of your God-King, for I still bear the evidence of his judgment. But I remind you, imphada, that I am not the issue here. Those refugees living on the outskirts of Haven are what concern me." He glances toward Shahar next, and nods abruptly to her suggestion. "Then I will speak with the Emperor, and see that he sends for as many of our healers and herbalists as will come. Some of them, from the further reaches of the Empyre, may practice different medicines that might yield more promising results. It is worth a try." He pauses then, gathering his next words before going on. "I do have another question -- and I'm afraid I'm admittedly ignorant about the answer. To your knowledge--" his gaze darts around the table to encompass all three women, "--is it possible for a healer of significant power to... 'create' a disease? There have been rumors that this plague was not accidental... but purposeful."

Cassius studies the reactions of all three women minutely.

Amineh's eyes narrow slightly; perhaps she is pressing her lips together into a narrow line, behind her veil. She looks down at her pendant, adjusting it against her robes, then turns her gaze to Maat and Shahar. "I have read," she slowly notes, "of curses called down in the name of the gods, but I have not seen these with my own eyes. If a gifted healer can purge sickness..." She trails off, spreading her fingers out again in a sort of shoulderless shrug.

"And my answer to that," Shahar adds on the end of Amineh's ruminations, "is that eyes would look toward those healers with cause to create such a heinous thing. Rest assured that should the destruction of the Empyre or its refugees be desired, the Amir-al has less troublesome ways to realize such a thing."

There is a choking sound from Maat, as if the woman is trying not to laugh. However, her body remains perfectly still and the opaque material of her garments prevent her mouth from being seen. By the time Shahar has spoken, the Shakir has managed to crush her response and produce instead a few, wry words as her answer. "It would be poor Healer to have caused the refugees catch the same disease for close to year without casualties. Again and again, plus there are so many of them. Perhaps it would have been better to have paid attention to the length the refugees have been constantly sick, than to seek an easy and palatable answer."

Cassius is learning new lessons in control, and stretching his limits yet further. Diplomacy had never been his strong suit, yet he swallows down any caustic replies and merely nods his head to each answer. "Thank you, imphadas. You have set my mind at ease." Yet, realizing that his calm is fraying at the edges and he risks another outburst like the one that cost him earlier, he tips his head to his companions. "I will confer with the Emperor, and tell him of your gracious offer to send along one healer to meet with our own." A tic appears in his jaw as he clenches it, but after an inaudible count to ten, he is able to carry on. "Meanwhile, our Empress and our Praetorians work alongside your volunteers to tend to the sick and the hungry. The refugees have livelihoods awaiting them in Edessa -- once this plague is cured. But for that single obstacle, I do not think they would remain here in Haven much longer." He rises from his chair with a crisp rustle of wings. "I hope that our combined efforts will allow us to overcome that obstacle. Thank you for meeting with me in the interests of a common goal. It proved... enlightening."

Amineh placidly inclines her head to Cassius as he rises, then stands as well. More manners, see? She's so diplomatic. "Enlightenment is a worthy thing," she intones. "Please, Ambassador -- do take my lesson under consideration, and feel free to call upon me should you wish further discussions on the nature of the Amir-al."

Shahar does not rise, however, for whatever reason. From her placement, she looks to Amineh, murmuring, "Nabi, a thousand thanks for your time this day. As ever, the light of the Divine Flame shimmers through each word and deed from your blessed soul." Then, shifting her lioness regard toward Cassius, she adds, "Deus, remain, please. I would discuss with you the possibility of attending this audience with your Emperor."

Cassius' face is set and still, but his wings shudder at his back -- evidence of suppressed anger. "Is there more you wish to tell him that you feel unable to tell me, Pasha?" he inquires in a voice that is just a touch strained. Perhaps due to the fact that he had to stop grinding his teeth together after Amineh's comments. "As you speak for your Amir-al, imphada, so I speak for the Emperor, and for the Aegis. Your offer to me is an offer to them." He fixes her with an icy stare, tone more modulated, and asks, "Is there more to your generosity?"

Amineh turns to Shahar and bows to her, more deeply than is strictly warranted. Gnarled, henna-patterned hands clasp Shahar's briefly, then release her as she straightens. "And you, Pasha," she replies. "For reminding me that truth is often hard to digest more than a few words at a time. Be well; may the Amir-al keep you and yours in His light." A look of true compassion, so odd and rare on the Nabi's face, given to Shahar, and gone as she turns to face Cassius once more. "Ambassador," she intones. "I trust you will not try the Pasha's endurance in my absence." She stares for a long, steady moment at the Empyrean, then moves past to the door, Akhund falling into step behind her.

Amineh departs the Pasha's main room into the hallway beyond, the double doors closing noiselessly behind her.

FIN  

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