The Dragonriders of Pern - Anne McCaffrey [348]
Lessa rose in one of her swift graceful gestures and went to meet the Istan, her hands outstretched, her expression unexpectedly compassionate. Jaxom had had the impression that she had been totally immersed in her brooding. Now, all her attention was centered on D’ram.
“We’re all assembled as you asked, D’ram,” Lessa said, pulling him to the chair beside her and pouring him a cup of wine.
D’ram thanked her for the wine and welcome, took a sip but, instead of seating himself, he turned to face the meeting. Jaxom could see that his face was marred by lines of fatigue as well as of age.
“Most of you already know my situation and Fanna’s . . . illness,” he said in a low hesitant voice. He cleared his throat, took a deep breath. “I wish to step down now as Istan Weyrleader. None of our queens is due to mate but I have no heart to continue longer. My Weyr has agreed. G’dened,” and D’ram indicated the man who had accompanied him, “has led the past ten Falls on his Barnath. I should have stepped down sooner but . . .” he shook his head, smiling sadly, “we so hoped the illness would pass.” He straightened his shoulders with an effort. “Caylith is oldest queen and Cosira a good Weyrwoman. Barnath has flown Caylith already and there’s been a large strong clutch to prove them.” Now he hesitated, glancing warily at Lessa. “It was the custom in the Oldtime, when a Weyr was leaderless, to throw open the first queen’s flight in that Weyr to all young bronzes. In this fashion a new leader was fairly chosen. I would invoke that custom now.” He said it almost belligerently and yet his manner toward Lessa was entreating.
“You must be very sure of G’dened’s Barnath then,” R’mart of Telgar Weyr said in a disgusted tone of voice that rose over the startled murmurs.
G’dened, grinning broadly, managed to avoid meeting anyone’s glance.
“I want the best leadership for Ista,” D’ram said stiffly, resenting R’mart’s implication of a token flight. “G’dened has proved his competence to my satisfaction. But he ought to prove it to everyone’s.”
“That’s fairly put.” F’lar rose to his feet, holding up his hands for silence. “I don’t doubt G’dened has a good chance, R’mart, but D’ram’s offer is exceedingly generous at this critical time. I’ll inform all my bronze riders but I, for one, will permit only those whose dragons haven’t yet had a chance to mate with a queen. I don’t think it’s fair to pile too many odds against Barnath, now is it?”
“Isn’t Caylith a Benden queen?” Lord Corman of Keroon Hold asked.
“No, she’s one of Mirath’s laying. Pirith is the Benden Hatched queen.”
“Caylith’s an Oldtimer queen?”
“Caylith is an Istan queen,” F’lar said firmly but quickly.
“And G’dened?”
“I was born in the old time,” the man said in a quiet voice but the expression he turned to Lord Corman bore no trace of apology.
“He is also a son of D’ram,” Lord Warbret of Ista Hold said, speaking directly to Lord Corman as if that qualification should ease the Holder’s tacit objection.
“Good man. Good blood,” Corman replied, not at all ruffled.
“His leadership is in question, not his bloodline,” F’lar said. “The custom is a good one . . .”
Jaxom clearly heard someone remark that it was the only good Oldtime custom he’d ever heard about, and he hoped that the low whisper hadn’t carried far.
“D’ram would be within his right to keep to the Weyr for leadership,” F’lar continued, addressing the craftmasters and Lord Holders. “I, for one, deeply appreciate his offer and the willingness of the Weyr to open the mating flight.”
“I only want the best leadership for my Weyr,” D’ram repeated. “This is the only way to be certain Ista gets it. The only way, the only right way.”
Jaxom suppressed the urge to cheer and glanced about the room, willing the reactions to be favorable. All the Weyrleaders seemed to agree. As they should, since one of their riders might gain from it. Jaxom hoped that G’dened’s Barnath would fly Caylith anyhow. That would