Bitra Hold

Lady Misra was awoken by the rapid pounding of the drums. It was too early for the news to not be urgent.

She sat up in her bed, the furs pulled off to the side by her bedmate. Misra listened as the drums pounded the same beat over and over.

Death. Dragonrider dead, Benden Weyr. Accident during something. Death. Dragonrider dead, Benden Weyr. Accident…

Lady Misra could only speculate as to what had happened. There were some things the drums had no signals for. A dragonrider dead in the early hours of the morning…? An accident while flying? What could it be?

The drums offered no definite answer.

Lady Misra did not go back to sleep. She lay down with her eyes closed, her mind whirling as to the meaning this recent tragedy held for Bitra.

ØØØ

Somehow, in a logic that Lady Misra did not understand, the death of the dragonrider postponed the Hatching by a few days. Several holds, realizing the danger to their children of being a dragonrider, did the unthinkable: they asked that their Candidates be returned. Twenty Candidates were sent back. The Weyr, already grieved by its loss, did not fight the Holders' decision.

Lady Misra was quite delighted by this news. Now there was a definite chance the Weyr would allow Bitrans to be Searched. Negotiations could begin immediately instead of waiting for the next Clutch.

The Hatching feast had already been prepared and so Lady Misra had an excuse to meet the Weyrleaders. On the scheduled day, she and Varra made their way to Benden Weyr.

ØØØ

Lower Caverns, Benden Weyr

"Weyrleader S'grall and Weyrwoman Galla, Bitra Hold offers its deepest sympathy in the Weyr's recent loss. I should hope all dragons perish as nobly," Lady Misra said, sweeping a low curtsy.

The Weyrwoman glared at her.

"I was not aware Bitra harbored such feelings for their protectors," Galla said, more than a little sarcastic.

"Neither was I," came the voice of Lord Branak, "But then, everyone knows Bitrans are skilled in the arts of lying and trickery."

Lady Misra smiled.

"It is my belief that one can never fully trust rumor. For example, I have heard that Tillek is known for the unappetizing tartness of its wine yet your Hold continues to make good profit from its production."

Lord Branak's nostrils flared but he did not answer.

They sat down to their meal soon after. The atmosphere lightened somewhat, though Galla did not seem to warm to the Bitran.

Lady Misra was wondering how to redeem her Hold and herself when Lord Branak of Tillek Hold made a most asinine comment.

"Well, it was just a green, wasn't it? Hardly a loss at all if you ask me," he said snidely, not realizing that his words carried.

Lady Misra's spine stiffened instantly.

With a loud crack, the Weyrwoman slapped the Lord Holder in the face.

"How dare you!" she screeched, "Get out of my Weyr! Get out right now!"

Lord Branak sprang quickly from his seat, his own face a whorl of anger and scorn. He clutched his cheek where she had hit him.

"You vile bitch!" he snarled.

Galla screeched again and flung herself at the unfortunate man. Riders jumped to restrain their Weyrwoman, though the effort was half-hearted at best.

Lord Branak's wife stood at her husband's side, clutching his arm.

Within minutes, the Lord was ushered out of the Weyr. Murmurs could be heard throughout the dining cavern, discussing what was happening outside. Lord Branak and his wife had flown in dragonback but the rider now refused to return the Lord Holder. No other rider could be found willing to do so and the Branak was given a curt shove out the delivery tunnel. There was no runner given to him as the Weyr did not keep such beasts and no one knew how Branak expected to return home. Then again, no one truly cared.

"Our Lord seems well-versed in stereotypes, doesn't he?" Lady Misra said calmly to her seatmate, a younger son of Benden, "I would recommend not following his example in the future, my dear. Perhaps I am known for my smooth tongue, but better false interest than truthful idiocy."

He nodded, quite taken by the extreme turn of events.