"Oh, C'lous, what are we going to do about him?" Senior Weyrwoman of Igen Weyr asked her Weyrleader, who was standing at her shoulder, peering with her into the Infirmary.
"With who? Young J'ral in there?" C'lous asked, his light blue eyes reflecting both mischievousness and weariness. At the coldness of Electa's glare, his eyes softened and his face drooped into a more reserved expression.
"I don't know, Electa. He undermines the authority of the Wingleaders when he's with the fighting Wings, particularly under F'lis and S'vix," The Weyrleader continued, tiredly rubbing his forehead, content that J'ral's wounds were superficial enough not to need their oversight.
"And why is that? F'lis and S'vix are excellent Wingleaders. During all of our drills they perform spectacularly. Why, by Faranth, they helped us win the Spring Games two Turns in a row!" Electa spat, impatiently, folding her arms over her chest as she tore her concerned face away from J'ral to look at her mate.
"Because F'lis is young enough to be Bir'len's son and S'vix has a female bluerider as a Second," C'lous said with a shrug, turning away from the Infirmary. When Electa didn't follow, he paused jerking his head towards the Hall.
"No, we'll stay for a few more minutes. Murlath has told me that the boy still requires some attention – attention he wouldn't have needed if that dratted wherry-head had properly briefed those Candidates on how they cannot force Impression!" Electa finished in a near shriek of outrage. Even from their position in the Weyr, they could plainly hear half the Weyr's bronzes and all the queens trumpet their senior Weyrwoman's dissatisfaction.
"Oh, come on now, love, no need to startle the guests," C'lous began gently, resting his hands on the furious woman's shoulders, stroking her arms in the next moment. She was soothed, but only enough not to set the Weyr's dragons in another uproar.
"You find something else to do with him, C'lous, I mean it. Three girls off the rosters because they were with child! Even old Z'mik saw that green nearly between. If it hadn't been for all those lads we had, she might have!" Electra growled, extracting herself from her weyrmate's embrace to fidget with her hair to prevent herself from lashing out physically. "And we had six casualties! One girl is in critical condition and poor Limarden is dead because Bir'len is too self-absorbed and lazy to actually teach those kids."
The Weyrleader winced at the report and sighed. Bir'len was becoming more of a problem every single Turn and it hadn't always been that way. He had been an excellent Wingsecond in his day, but when he had been replaced for causing an accident that cost the lives of a rider pair he'd been replaced. The demotion had humiliated the man and sent him into a vicious depression. He always thought someone was out to get him, that someone was conspiring behind his back, trying to, somehow, get him and his blue Varlimeth killed. It didn't help that he took criticism personably and refused any kind of help. He shirked his duties, blamed his faults on other riders and those he was in charge of, and was exceedingly arrogant. From how Bir'len came across in C'lous's meetings with his Masters, he got the impression that Bir'len had no respect for him and would, if he could, undermine him at every opportunity.
"Doesn't Igen Hold need a new watchrider? H'clim is going blind, you know, and Jrenith is nearly the same. Perhaps H'clim could train them and then we could retire those two permanently," C'lous suggested, desperately.
Electa gave him a hard, cold look, as though she hated the thought of him anywhere near Holders, but was faced with no other alternative.
"Do it. Immediately. I want weekly reports on Bir'len's progress and training, C'lous," She said so threateningly that C'lous considered his position as Weyrleader in more jeopardy than it had ever have been in the four Turns Lomoth had consecutively Flown Murlath.
"You have my word, Weyrwoman," C'lous said, understand completely for the first time why she now rode the senior queen.
"I'll be along to the Feast shortly, 'Lous. Yvani should be along shortly with status updates," Electa turned from her Weyrleader to glare into the Infirmary once more. "Murlath has told me that Climith has finally fallen asleep, so J'ral must have settled down."
C'lous strode down the empty hallway alone, hoping that Electa's wrath was burnt out. At least she sounded more resigned. As for Bir'len, he could wait until tomorrow. Knowing the blue rider, he was apt to make a large scene in front of the gathered Holders and Crafters invited to the Weyr for the Hatching, as unTraditional as the custom was.