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Ista had just come to the Temple in Zagosur to pay her respects to the Mother's altar, and offer thanks for Iselle's safe delivery of a second girl child (and to make a snide remark at the Brother's altar about enjoying very much that the Fox was potentially going to have his heir's heir be a daughter if this kept up) when the red-headed woman in trousers staggered through the front doors and semi-collapsed into one of the ornate chairs off to the side. Ista noted with some surprise that the woman also wore a sword belted to her waist, and then recognized the arms of Tortall that had been embroidered with some skill into the woman's tabard.
One of the acolytes went to her, only to be waved away with a mutter of thanks and a gesture that indicated a desire for rest rather than aid.
Ah, she realized. The delegation must have arrived. And this would be...hmm.
Tortall and the Copper Isles had sent delegations to Chalion-Ibra due to some rising tensions with Roknari pirates, and more, the support that the Roknari were apparently getting from the Carthaki Empire. Given that the Isles were a trading partner of Ibra's beyond the Roknari Archipelago, they had to have come by ship on a most circuotous route. To judge by the faintly green cast of the woman's features, sea travel had not agreed with her.
Ista set her small mission aside and went to sit down next to the red-head. "Was it very bad?" she asked.
"I hate boats," the woman muttered in passable Ibran. "Every time, I swear I will never get on one again..."
"And then your Roya tells you to go, and you go?" Ista finished, raising an eyebrow.
"Roy-- ah, yes," the woman agreed, then wiped her hands on her trousers and offered one. "Sir Alanna dy Trebond," she offered, "Knight of Tortall, and several other things that I haven't figured out how to translate into your language."
"Ista dy Chalion," Ista replied, taking the woman's hand and delighted by the general lack of formality. "Dowager Royina of Chalion, and Saint of the Bastard."
Alanna's face made an interesting expression as she attempted to translate that, and Ista noted the lines on the woman's face, particularly around her startling purple eyes, the grey in her short red hair. For all that she had moved more like Ferda dy Gura or one of the other young Dedicats of the Daughter who had formed Ista's honor-guard, Ista suspected this woman was probably nearing 50.
"Mohre!" the two women heard from the doorway, and Alanna twisted in her chair to look over at a rather younger woman who had to be Alanna's daughter. They had the same red hair, the same shape to their face, but where Alanna was stocky and muscled, this one was taller, and stood more like a dancer. Two toddlers stood with her, holding her hands.
A spate of language that Ista couldn't translate followed, but which she had no trouble parsing in its own way, as she had had conversations with Iselle that sounded much the same, followed by Alanna turning back to her, and saying, "I beg your pardon."
"I too have a daughter," Ista said, smiling.
"Sera Alianne dy Pyrrasswoop," Alanna sighed, "please meet Royina Ista dy Chalion."
The younger woman's hazel eyes widened, and then she smiled, and dropped a curtsy (without letting go of her children) and said, in absolutely flawless Ibran, "Royina, it is my pleasure. Though I think my honorific is likely dy Lombyn at this point, since my queen has given me lands on that island, and it's where my husband and I are living these days. This is Junim," her left hand, "and this is Ulasu." The two toddlers managed a bow, and Ista was charmed. "My husband Nawat has my third child, Ochabai, and he's making sure our luggage gets unloaded properly."
Ista realized something. "Lombyn is a Copper Isles island, I think?" she asked.
"Oh, yes, I emigrated when I married my husband," Alianne said, glancing at her mother. Alanna frowned. Apparently, there was a story there. Doubtless Ista would find out in a letter from dy Cazaril if it warranted her attention. She, in turn, would write him one when she was done speaking with these two.
"Ah, and you do not share your mother's difficulty with ships, I take it?"
"I would not have chosen to emigrate to an island nation if I did," Alianne laughed. "Mother, do you need any help finding the palace? We are expected there shortly."
Alanna grimaced, and Ista decided to have pity on her. "Sera Alianne, you may tell the Fox and anyone with him that your mother has been detained by the Saint of the Bastard, and will be along shortly."
Alianne's eyes widened, and then she laughed. "Ah, my father's god is your patron," she explained, when Ista tilted her head curiously. "Mother, though, was chosen of the Great Mother Goddess." And recognizing that she'd been dismissed - the girl was quick! - she exited the temple, towing her two children with her.
Alanna smiled faintly, and Ista turned toward her and shifted her sight. Yes, the woman did indeed have a solid green glow - more like banked embers in a hearth than the rampant conflagration of white that Ista was told she exuded when performing her own duties.
Oh, there was kinship here then. "I, too, was once chosen of the Mother," she mused. "I should like to speak more to you, Ser Alanna, but I only offered you the opportunity to stay in case the ground is still heaving under your feet."
"I appreciate the offer," Alanna admitted. "But my duties do call me. I would like some time to pray, though."
"Then perhaps you will call upon me later today, or some time before you begin your trek to Cardegoss, and we shall talk more?"
"I'd like that," the red head agreed. "And thank you."
Ista gently flicked her fingers. "Those who serve the Gods must aid one another. May your prayers to the Mother give you the ease you need."