Candidates at Cincanta Weyr
Except these three. Born one year apart, Umber first, Cinnabar middle, and Sienna last, these cinnamon haired terrors learned what they would from their training sessions, and then to the sea with the rest.
At 19, Umber is the more mature of the bunch. His brother Cinnabar THINKS he is the most mature, and of course young 17 year old Sienna doesn't give a flip about maturity.
What could they have learned in their time? Well. How about "plotting and scheming 101", "blackmail for the advanced Harper", and "lie your way to the top of the class". Not that they're not capable of normal duties. They all are expert record keepers and all three have exceptional grasp of language and public speaking. None of them are adept at musical instruments, believing they are for "sissies". Yes, they use that word.
Frequently. To the bard's faces.
The Madder clan is terrified of this trio. With good reason. They have access to all their House information and records, after all. And are not afraid to use it.
Why would they ever want to be searched? A dragon pure and simple would expand their horizons incredibly. Why, with a dragon below each of them they could communicate with one another instantly, meet clandestinely to share secrets, and teleport the heck away from angry Lords and Guildmasters!
Running around freely in their youth at one of the Dawnlight area Houses like they have, they all share a certain amount of enjoyment of things natural. Mainly, how to get nature to bend to their will. Sienna does not shy away from physical means when it comes to extracting information. Cinnabar is more subtle and relies upon his boyish good looks, while Umber is the planner and plotter of the three.
A Weyr would have to be crazy to take these three on the sands.
They'd have to be crazy NOT to, what with all the blackmail material they could scrape up...
"Wait, what are you doing?" He asked, as Sienna reached her hand into his shirt. He stopped worrying as her other hand pawed at his chin and she kissed him deeply. The letter concealed within the folds of the bard's shirt -- addressed quite confidentially to his Lord -- slipped out to the girl's boot top. Sitting astride the poor traveling currier's lap, Sienna giggled and did her best "tavern wench" impression. She was quite good at it.
Two rounds of drinks later, endless amounts of flirting and laughter, the harper had passed out and would remember precious little of the evening.
***
"You got it?" Umber grunted, from his desk.
"Of course I did. What did you expect?" Sienna spat.
"Well you were taking your sweet time with him. I might even begin to think you liked men after all."
"Say no such things about me, elder brother," Sienna snapped the letter in front of the bearded young man's face. She struck him with the edge of it, almost poking his eye. "He was cute, but he's more your type than mine. Is that not the truth?"
"I wouldn't know. I don't drink myself into a stupor over come harlot, why should I look for that trait in anyone I desire?" Umber snatched the letter out of his sister's hand, and smiled angrily. "Now go away. You've got to get some sleep tonight."
"Why?" Sienna demanded, fists on her hips.
"Because how else would we explain your presence while our brother and I tended your fever?" Umber grinned. Sienna placed a quick kiss on his cheek, and laughingly followed his instructions.
***
"This has everything we need," Umber said to Cinnabar, as they sat across from one another at the work table. "The bastard has done just about ever young lad in the country side, now he's importing them from other Houses?"
"It's nothing you wouldn't do yourself, why are you so concerned?" Cinnabar wearily asked. "I mean, he's done me. You know that. You sent me there yourself." The distaste in Cinnabar's tone was more than enough to make Umber wince.
"... Yes. That is true. And you know that I am sorry about it. I thought it would be a ... different opportunity for us."
"Well it didn't turn out that way until now, and I don't appreciate his advances anyway. But I can still understand them. Umber, his Lordship is growing old and senile now. Why bother? He has already slipped up in front of an entire gather worth of people. Everyone heard that rider's accusations."
"And how many would belive them?" Umber pointed out. He pressed the parchment of the letter down onto the stone surface of the work bench. It was a very wordy document indeed.
More like a sales invoice than a conversational letter. In fact, it was a bill of sale. Human goods. The thought of this brought bile to Cinnabar's throat. But he remained steady before his brother.
"Because the right people will know this way. And when we come calling for favors, they will be able to provide them. This is proof positive, and it's something that poor dupe Spencer has never quite gotten his hands on." Umber tapped his finger on the table, and watched his brother.
"I'm sorry," he said again.
"I know." Cinnabar said, nothing more.
***
Lord Spencer looked at the broken seal on the letter, who it was from, who had been assigned to ship it (the bard had fluttered through the House earlier in the morning, frantic and being bellowed at by Deon... telling evidence), and what the letter in fact said.
Spencer licked his lips. Blinking, he put the letter down and began to smile.
"You know that this will warrant quite the proper investigation." He said.
"Which you will not stop," Umber commented.
"Exactly. Depending on how far that investigation goes, of course, you three might just wind up in a rather sweet position here in the House."
"We're already in a good position, Spencer," Umber said, speaking for all three siblings as usual. "But even so, I'd like to ask that you keep us in mind when you're ... Well, when you hold the full authority as you ought to have had from the start."
"No need to try flattering me," Spencer said, his smile turning a bit annoyed. "But no need to ask either. I have an idea for something you might enjoy in the long run, anyway. Something you could do for yourselves as well as for the House."
"And that would be?" Sienna asked, fiddling with her shirt. She'd seen the bard too, and he'd almost spotted her. She just wasn't sure enough that he would be oblivious and have forgotten her face or hair.
"There is a fine clutch of eggs on Cincanta's sands. A very fine clutch indeed. New weyrwoman. That suits me perfectly. We can never have too many dragon riders in our ranks now, can we?"
The trio looked at one another with a bit of surprise. "You wouldn't want to just get rid of us too," Cinnabar said.
"While it would be stupid for me to say no, because you would know better obviously," Spencer chuckled a bit, "you should keep away from the House for at least a short time. Deon will have people looking for my spies, and you are my best right now." He adopted a bit of a bitter face, but did not elaborate. Someone must have defected.
"The condition," Umber said, after a moment of thought, "is that if and when we -- individually or as a group -- require something of you, you're there for us. No matter your situation. Lord as you are already, you've power enough. But if you become the master of this House, you'll be even more so. And that would be because of this letter we've found for you."
The other two nodded, and watched Spencer mulling this over. Umber and Spencer were so similar, both Sienna and Cinnabar noticed it the first time they'd ever met the Lord. They each calculated their moves carefully. They both seemed to consider everything quickly. They were both quite ruthless.
But with each other, Umber and Spencer seemed at least to be completely honest with one another. There was no use trying to outwit a blackmailer. Not when he taught them their arts.
Spencer came to a decision, and nodded shortly. He stood, and the trio stood more at attention than they had been. "Of course. On this condition from me: that if and when you Impress, you remain in my ... employ. I realize that the needs of a dragon wing and possibly a weyr must come first. But when you've become full riders and can leave the weyr, you'll remain able to work for me. I can arrange courrier and other jobs for you, if need be. The wings of the Protectorate still use non-fighting dragons."
They thought this over, almost as one. Sienna was the first to nod. Cinnabar the last. But he added, "sir? If I may ask something of you, not among these deals?"
Spencer's eyebrows went up, but he indicated Cinnabar continue.
"If you do manage to put him up for an inquisition..." He sneered, "make that filthy bastard pay slow and painfully."
Spencer leaned in close to the youth's ear and whispered, "you have that as a promise young man. That 'filthy bastard' tried to rape my son. He's never going to see the sky again if I have my way..."
Stunned and disgusted, Cinnabar nodded. "Then at least send pictures..."
They assembled their required posessions and met a rider that would take them to Cincanta.
Of course, once they got there, they stalked out all the best people to pry for gossip, information, and blackmail material...