Fanfic:An Assignment with the Red
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This is a chat RP transcript
Jaryd strode toward the classrooms to locate the Accepted that Illyria had directed him to when he inquired with her about an assistant for a "project" he had coming up. The situation did not seem overtly dangerous, and would present many opportunities for one of the learning ranks to become familiar with the actual living conditions of the poor, and -maybe- learn a little bit about his Ajah.
The Aes Sedai had mentioned Mirin would be just finishing up teaching a class, and so she was; when Jaryd approached the assigned room, he could hear her dismissing her students with a clipped Cairhienin accent. 'Excellent'. He waited until they had all departed and Mirin herself emerged before approaching her. "Accepted Mirin I believe?" he asked.
Mirin looked up at the Asha’man – and her eyes widened. Jaryd Kosari, the former M’Hael! She had never spoken to the man, but she had heard the stories and recognized his face.
She swept a low curtsy. “Jaryd Asha’man,” she said deferentially. “Yes, I am Mirin Ronaile. How may I help you?”
Jaryd dipped his head in acknowledgment of her curtsy, and then gestured for her to precede him in the direction she had been walking. "I am going to investigate a situation in the trade district of Hama Valon, and I asked Illyria Sedai if I could borrow one of her charges for the day to assist me. She pointed me in your direction." He smiled.
Mirin smiled back. "I'd gladly go with you," she replied.
"I warn you, it might be a rather shocking and messy experience," he said, eyes twinkling. "If that doesn't bother you, dress warmly and meet me at the front gate in a half bell."
Mirin's stomach turned. She did not like mess or shock. Yet she spent her mornings assisting in the infirmary, and had seen many shocking and messy situations. If she could do that every morning – then she could do this.
"Yes sir." She curtsied again, and then ran to her room to find a warm coat and a sturdy pair of boots. Soon, she stood at the front gate. She spent a few minutes flirting mildly with the Tower guard, but kept a keen eye out for the Asha'man.
Jaryd spent the intervening time preparing himself, including donning a thick coat against the snow that showed no signs of stopping, and collecting a stack of papers into a sturdy leather bag. Then he climbed the stairs back to the main floor and out to the front gate, where he found Mirin waiting for him.
"Excellent, we can go!" He nodded to the guard, and walked out. They walked quietly for a few minutes, and then Jaryd asked, "What purpose do you suppose an Asha'man of the Red Ajah and an Accepted might have in the trade district?"
Mirin hesitated. "I am not certain," she said. She turned to the Asha'man and blushed with embarrassment. "In fact, the Red Ajah is so small, the number of channelers so few… that I don't really know what you do," she confessed. "Perhaps there is a dispute between traders that needs to be settled?"
He had half-expected a flippant response; what he got instead was authenticity. He gave her a studied look. "It's true, there are still just the two of us," he said thoughtfully. "And neither of us really advertise our actions much, do we?"
He shook his head. "For disagreements- that's more the business of the Grey Ajah. If Carra had not taken the step to create the Red, then that is likely where I would have gone. However…I find that my particular brand of dispute resolution is less diplomatic than the Grey desires.
"More importantly, I am far more interested in ensuring that the abuse that caused the dispute in the first place never happens."
"I see," Mirin said carefully. The ice crunched under their boots as they walked down the streets of Hama Valon. Her mind raced ahead. Jaryd Asha'man had said that this could be a messy experience. "Is that our goal today? To prevent a cause of a dispute?" She held back a shudder. She hoped there wouldn’t be any fighting. But surely Illyria Sedai would not have referred her to Jaryd if there would be any fighting involved. The Mistress of Novices knew her students too well.
Jaryd glanced up; they still had a ways to go. Hama Valon had grown even in the short time he had been there, and the trade district – thus called because it was the most immediately accessible to merchants and peddlers- was on the outskirts furthest from the lake.
He caught the sidelong look she gave him, and wondered what was bothering her. "In a manner of speaking, yes," he said, choosing his words carefully. "We are going to visit a woman named Elene Diacatra. She is a well-known seamstress, and has tailored many garments for Aes Sedai and Asha'man in her time."
He paused before continuing, uncertain which was more important – the entire story, or his own involvement in it? "Elene's business has grown, and she has several assistants who work for her. She told us that in return for a slight increase in price, she would pay them fairly for their labor."
His lips pressed tightly together for a moment. "I discovered recently that she lied."
He looked at his companion. "As a Red, I cannot allow that kind of abuse to stand."
A seamstress? That was familiar territory. "I was worried that there would be fighting," Mirin said with relief. She listened intently to the story. "I'm sure that she will lie through her teeth again," she said grimly. "Was there a written contract when the agreement was first made?"
Jaryd grinned. "Naturally. The Grey Tower depends on its good name with merchants and craftsmen in order to provide for its people. If the Tower finds that one of the people it works with is not honoring the contract, we cut ties. That is certainly what is in order for Mistress Diacatra. However…" His smile grew grim.
He indicated they should turn left before he continued. "The Grey Tower may cut ties with Diacatra, and that will certainly make her life difficult, but there is nothing preventing her from continuing to treat her workers poorly. In fact, it may actually provide reason for her to get worse."
Mirin hadn't thought of that. What could be done for this situation? She probed further. "If her assistants aren't being paid fairly, why don't they seek another seamstress to work for?"
He liked her intellect. "It would seem the obvious answer, wouldn't it?" He asked. "However, these women generally have few options: Work for a larger shop, open their own shop, find a new profession, or move to another city. Unfortunately for them, there are only two or three larger shops in Hama Valon, and they typically only hire the best of the best." Because they served Aes Sedai, he thought cynically.
"So what's our plan?" Mirin asked.
"In a few days' time, the Tower will send a mandate to Mistress Diacatra, telling her to abide by the terms of her agreement or be struck from the list," Jaryd said, evading the question for a moment. "If we did nothing, when the messenger arrived they would find Mistress Diacatra presiding over a room of well-dressed smiling seamstresses more than happy to spill out their purses to show the gold they were paid that morning. However, that is not the reality. Diacatra and her ilk know that once the eye of authority has passed, they can behave however they wish. Therefore, we are going there to let her know that someone is watching her."
He looked down at his companion. "I need your help because there will be many women present, some of them frightened and convinced they are about to lose their living."
Mirin nodded. She understood now why Illyria Sedai had chosen her to accompany Jaryd. Perhaps she could provide a little reassurance to the women. After all, if she had not come to the Tower, then she, too, would have assisted in her mother's shop and become a seamstress. As they turned another corner, she wondered how far they had yet to walk.
"This is to be a surprise visit, then?" she asked.
"We are on Red Ajah business – this is a surprise to all but the three who know you are with me," he said cheerfully. He had not been entirely open with Illyria about the nature of his errand, or she may not have been so ready to assist him.
He looked up. "Ah, we are nearly there. Do you have any other questions before we go in?"
"No sir," Mirin said. A note of amusement entered her voice. "I am ready whenever you are."
Jaryd nodded, then turned his attention forward, putting his shoulders back and straightening his back. The Void wrapped around him and as it did, his warm smile faded, replaced with the cold hard emptiness characteristic of an Asha'man. He lead the way around the corner into a narrow street, and then up a short flight of stairs to a door. He knocked sharply, and then relaxed into the deadly insolence of Cat Crosses the Courtyard.
Mirin watched, fascinated, as the man, so warm and friendly just seconds before, was replaced by a cold, hard stranger. Had he channeled the One Power? Perhaps she should do the same. She opened herself to the Source and quietly followed him to the door.
A woman in a plain brown dress, with curly hair gathered into a hasty bun at the nape of her neck peered nervously through the crack. Jaryd met her eyes and said clearly, "I am Jaryd Kosari, Asha'man of the Red Ajah. I am here to speak to Mistress Diacatra." The woman squeaked and disappeared.
A moment later the door swung open, and Jaryd strode through, motioning for Mirin to follow him. The woman in brown led them down a short hall, and into a dimly-lit room where several women similarly dressed were bent over tables laden with fabric. A woman in a pink silk gown stood at the front of the room, her finger shoved in another brown-clad woman's face. She caught sight of Jaryd and froze, then turned and curtsied stiffly.
Jaryd looked around the room critically, his face blank of emotion. Rather than speak directly to the head seamstress, he addressed the woman in brown that Elene had been chastising. "What percentage do you get of the proceeds from every dress you sew?" The woman glanced from him to Diacatra, her fingers wrapped in her skirts and her eyes wide with fear.
"I pay my girls sixty percent of the proceeds from every dress," Diacatra said, her eyes locking on her victim's face in a warning glare. "Don't I?"
The woman she had faced nodded and looked down, shoulders slumping.
Jaryd looked at Mirin. "I don't think our friend is being entirely honest," he commented. "But if she were, do you feel that would be fair pay for work done?"
Mirin's lips tightened. Why were the women so frightened? Mirin could understand that their livelihoods were threatened. But the abuse seemed to reach beyond a simple paycheck. She looked Diacatra in the eyes as she answered Jaryd's question.
"It would depend on the division of labor," she said. "Who designs the dress? Who provides the tools? Who pays rent? I cannot answer without seeing a proper report of accounting. But I don't need to see that report to know that this shop is poorly managed."
She gestured at the single lamp. "The lighting is dim! The table is too low! I wouldn't be surprised if every woman who worked here had pain in her eyes and back." Mirin was filled to the brim with 'saidar', its sweet awareness magnifying every problem in the room. She trembled with anger, barely restraining herself from channeling. The air thickened with tension.
"I don't know who this snip of a girl thinks she is, but my shop is the best in Hama Valon, and women fight to work for me-!" Elene had dark hair, dark eyes, and an Andoran accent. Her eyes shifted, and as it traveled around the room, the women in brown stood up and gathered to leave. Jaryd put up his hand and they halted, confused.
Jaryd skewered the woman in pink with his eyes. "I am an Asha'man of the Red Ajah, and as such it is my duty to track down and end the rampant abuse inflicted by those with the power to do so." Jaryd said quietly. "My eyes and ears have told me many things- Mirin's observations are more fuel for the fire. "
Diacatra glared at him.
"My sources tell me these women are paid a silver mark a week, sleep four to a room in the upper level of this building and are given two meals a day if they are lucky. I was also told that you charge them exorbitant amounts for the dubious privilege of such room and board. If they cannot pay, they are forced to work long hours to make up for their deficit."
"They are free to go any time they like if the arrangement does not suit them," the Andoran said coldly.
Jaryd arched an eyebrow. "The point is, Mistress Diacatra, that the arrangement does not suit 'me'."
"And the thing is – I have sources everywhere. You will never know who is reporting back to me. You could fire every woman in this room, and I would still know what is happening in your shop." He smiled grimly. "And until things change in this shop, you will continue to hear from me."
The women seemed rather disturbed. He looked at Mirin. "I simply need to drive my point home to Mistress Diacatra," he said. "I think her workers could use some reassurance."
Mirin got the hint. She moved toward the brown-clad women, leaving Diacatra to the Asha'man. "Come with me," she said softly. Although the women still seemed fearful and hesitant, they followed her into a back room.
"What's the point of all that?" one of them asked. "She's just going to yell and hit us more when he's gone."
"That can change," Mirin answered. "There are many of you, and only one of her."
They gathered in a small circle. Mirin softened her voice. "My mother was a seamstress," she began. "I know what it is like to work in a shop. I can help you, but only if you tell me everything.
The silence stretched. The women still did not trust her. But Mirin waited patiently, and finally one of them spoke.
"She did get me by praising my dress," a woman with a heavy Illianer accent said. "She did say she thought the lords and ladies would pay gold for my work."
"I am sure they would," Mirin said gently. "But then what happened?"
"She did say then that she could no keep the house going, that the Aes Sedai did no pay enough, so we did have to pay rent."
Another spoke then. "I came here looking for a new beginning, I had nothing. She offered a place to live, food, and pay, in exchange for my work. It seemed good, so I said yes. But as time passed, the pay grew less and the hours grew longer."
A third spoke up. "And by then, we had no money, and we work all the time. We could leave, but where would we go?"
"At least here we do have food and a safe place to sleep," the Illianer finished, "But I do no understand why the Aes Sedai do no pay as much as they said they would."
Abruptly, Mirin realized that she could hear no voices from the other room. Jaryd must have woven a ward of silence. She tried not to think of what the Asha'man could be doing, and instead focused on these women. "The Aes Sedai pay more for your work here than any other shop in Hama Valon," she said. “They pay more because you do excellent work.”
"What?" The fair-haired woman who had spoken of a new beginning seemed shocked out of her fear. "But she said…"
Mirin interrupted. "You must realize that Diacatra has lied to you. She wears silks, eats rich food, and hides away money like a squirrel. But the Tower knows. And we know your predicament. And we will stop it."
Mirin didn't know exactly what Jaryd Asha'man had in mind for these women. But she hoped that her words would become true.
That sparked a flurry of murmured discussion among the women, who gathered around Mirin like chicks around a hen.
Mirin listened to their murmurs, comforting where she could. Despite herself, her ears strained to hear into the other room. How long had it been? What under the Light was Jaryd doing? The minutes stretched. When the door finally opened, Mirin nearly gasped in relief.
Jaryd joined them alone. He looked the women over carefully before he spoke, the chill of the Void no longer present in his tone.
"You might say Mistress Diacatra has had a revelation," he said, his lips curling upwards in a wicked smile. "Those of you who wish to continue working here may do so – she has sworn to build a better working environment in the coming weeks. She will also give you a fair wage, and you may choose to live here or elsewhere as you please."
A few half-hearted cheers rose from the women, but Mirin knew that they daren't express too much hope. Diacatra had oppressed the women so long that many could not imagine living any other way.
He smiled at their reaction, but gave Mirin a pointed look. There was more to the story. "If you choose not to work here, I will provide you with a small purse of coin to help you on your way. Simply send word to me at the Tower, and I will send it immediately."
He paused. "If, for some reason, Mistress Diacatra does not uphold her end of our bargain, you may also send word," he said. "In fact, I would encourage you to do so with the utmost haste."
He looked at Mirin again. "We should go; it's getting late."
She nodded, and then moved to embrace each woman. "Good luck," she said, bidding them goodbye. She followed Jaryd out the door. Mistress Diacatra was nowhere to be seen. When they were outside, her curiosity overwhelmed her. "What did you do to her?" she asked.
"I 'did' nothing to her," he said, amused. "I merely spoke with the expectation of being heard, and she listened, because in her heart she is a scared creature intent on one thing, and one thing only: survival, no matter the cost to others." He scowled.
"As for what I said- I told her quite clearly that if she continued to run her shop the way she has been, I will ensure she pays the price for it, and whatever that price may be, it would be greater than the financial cost of renovation. I plan on visiting again in ten days- or sooner, if I get a message from one of her workers. I am quite certain that when I arrive, things will not be nearly as good as she promised they would be."
"Please let me know how it goes," Mirin said lightly. As Jaryd had promised, this had been a very interesting experience. She wondered if he dealt with this type of problem often. "Is this the type of work the Red Ajah pursues?"
"You are also welcome to visit the shop any time you like," Jaryd commented. "In the eyes of Mistress Diacatra, you are now my agent, and she will respond to you with the same alacrity. As for the Red…" he contemplated her question thoughtfully.
"To answer your question," he said after a long moment, "I'll first say something rather indirect. The Red Ajah of the White Tower sought out male channelers because they believed that, having gone mad with the Taint, the men would abuse their power to destroy the world. However, clearly we are no longer Taint-maddened," and he chuckled, "though it was tempting to convince that woman in there that I was!"
"Our Red Ajah was founded on the principle of maintaining the balance between the Shadow and the Light. On a personal level, I have chosen to take that concept, and the older Red's concept, and combine them. I maintain balance and prevent the destruction of the world by stopping those who have gone made with power. That could be something as simple as stopping an abusive seamstress, or it could be something as complex as dethroning a despot. Does that make sense?"
Mirin nodded thoughtfully. "It does," she said. She looked up at Jaryd. "Thank you for bring me with you today," she said sincerely. "I learned a lot. And I'm glad to have met you."
The Asha'man smiled. "I'm glad Illyria pointed me to you, Mirin," he said, "your insight in that shop helped those women more than you know. I certainly hope to speak with you more in the future."
