A Long Awaited Visitor

Br'son answered his wingleader, his eyes never leaving Firene's. "No," he said slowly. "But they might take them. At least the 'non-mutant' ones," he said, nearly spitting the hated term. "Weyrwoman, I say this not as a threat but as a warning. Yllaveth will NOT quietly sit by and let her hatchlings be taken from the Weyr where they belong. Nor will her Cobalts and the others. She's Senior now," he said softly. "Her will is theirs."

In point of fact, this might have been a bit of bravado on Br'son's part. The truth was, neither Yllaveth nor Parazarth had ever shown any inkling of being able to compel dragons the way that the golden queens could... but then, neither of them had ever been Senior before. Being the Senior queen brought its own power, as the Senior found herself the focus of the support of all the dragons under her command.

So. Br'son didn't know if Yllaveth's outrage would compel the other dragons of White Lightning Weyr to resist if Eastern tried to take her hatchlings...

...but he didn't know that it wouldn't, either.

"Better to avoid the conflict entirely, Br'son," Firene replied soberly. "Whatever the end result of gold versus titanium, dragons would be hurt, and none of us want that."

She twisted her ring again, shook her head slightly. "They'll have no idea of the timing, or even if you even have capability to house the eggs properly. Don't let any word otherwise get out. Stop the problem ahead of it existing." That, of course, had ever been Firene's approach.

There had been sentiment, recently, of all dragons descended from the titanium queen - and Olenath, for all of that first clutch and since - being forced to join the outcasts at Eastern, but the losses had swallowed that muttering whole. Bronzes were not so many that they could be cast aside, and none had dared berate Olenath in the experienced queenpair's hearing. Well and so.

Br'son nodded, breathing deeply to force his fear and ire to calm before it woke his queen. "Yes, of course," he said. "You're wise as always, Weyrwoman. I just... well. You are right. Better to keep it under wraps. Though we could use candidates, and I had hoped... but no matter. We'll find them some other way," he said, forcing a smile.

It was a warning, he realized suddenly. She'd come here to warn them, as only she, the "eccentric retired Weyrwoman" could do. Br'son's smile grew more genuine, and gratitude entered his eyes as he nodded to Firene in silent acknowledgement of that fact.

Casriel wanted to say something like 'We will see what Maraxith, Gaveth and Galventh have to say about that' but the words died on her lips. She thought of Eastern's senior queen, back up by her junior queens. Then by her bronzes, the browns, the blues and the greens. She thought of having to draw a blade against Jah'vi or T'kal.

Even Casriel's iron gut quivered at the thought.

Firene smiled back, briefly, and then gestured to her glass. "Let's have another drink, and perhaps I can meet your partners before I must be on my way. Shall we?"

Sidran sat quietly, thinking, and said nothing at all.

Casriel lifted herself from her chair and took the bottle. She poured steadily into Firene's cup, watching the liquid rise steadily. She filled her own glass next and sat down, taking a long pull. So many things to consider, so many things to do.

But there was nothing they could do right now. Casriel relinquished the burning rage glowing in her belly. She turned her mind to one problem she could solve.

"Perhaps you would like to meet our Weyrling Master? I suspect Ashrah would very much like to see you."

"I do adore that young woman, and an excellent choice for Weyrlingmaster she is. I hope that question doesn't mean you're trying to keep your new weyrfolk from me. Unfortunately I can't stay long, but it would be a pleasure to meet your partners in this endeavor." Firene's smile was as warm as ever, but it sharpened ever so slightly. Surely they weren't trying to keep secrets from her?