Angsty scenes cause me very literal headaches sometimes. Do any other authors have that problem?
Oh, yeah – still not mine. Fardles!
L'ret and Benoroghe continued watching the weyrlings as they and their young dragons were divided into several smaller groups, each led by a weyrlingmaster's assistant with extra help from seasoned rider volunteers.
Benoroghe had trouble reconciling what he had seen with what little he knew about dragons, and repeatedly asked more questions about Klamath, the brown – most of the time – dragon. While the sight of thirty-two little dragons spreading their wings might have fascinated or at the very least entertained most non-weyrbred people, Benoroghe noticed, but seemed rather obsessed by Klamath's changing hide color.
To ease the Steward's mind and hopefully move past what was intended to be a rather humorous event, L'ret finally declared that Klamath was most definitely a brown dragon, and that oiling only gave the illusion that he could change colors. He did not mention Lessa's sighting of bronze coloration in the newly hatched little brown four days earlier inside Ista's relatively dark living cavern. No need to overstretch this man's mind; he had come so far in just a few candle-marks.
Once again concerned only with the ramifications of a woman brown rider – rather than a woman bronze rider – Benoroghe began smiling as he realized what was happening before his very eyes. Thirty-two pairs of little dragon wings created an awesome color display in the sunny bowl of Benden Weyr. Greens, blues, browns, bronzes, and golds, in all shades from light to dark sat back on their haunches and raised their delicate wings as high as they could manage. Riders stood in front of their little ones, ready to provide support in the event of balance problems.
Benoroghe didn't know, of course, that each weyrling had been instructed in just how to provide any needed support – at the body, not the wings. More seasoned riders observed closely to make certain the dragonets did not overextend themselves. Dragon healers and the weyrleaders made their way through the groups, inspecting, measuring, gently probing, and very gently stretching little wings on occasion.
After a few minutes of wings held high, all dragonets were allowed to furl their wings, ordered to place all four feet on the ground and asked to raise their wings again. This display wasn't quite as impressive to the uninitiated, but still quite interesting. Benoroghe, standing alone while L'ret tended to this very important assessment of draconic development, noticed how much higher the seven-day old dragonets could raise their wings than the four-day old dragonets. One little blue among the Istan group seemed even further behind than the others, but the brown in that group raised his wings almost as high as his elders. The little blue was first to drop his wings back to his sides and seemed to droop – did dragons feel shame, wondered Benoroghe? There was L'ret, though, consoling the blue and his young rider, with considerable good effect; the boy was now smiling and the dragon standing a bit taller.
As the healers finished their inspections, dragonets and their riders made their way to the weyrling barracks, and soon returned to the lake with buckets of meat. Benoroghe held his place despite the urge to join his son as he returned with Dandreth, until one of the assistants informed him it would be acceptable to do so. The Steward was mildly surprised when B'roghe and Dandreth joined the Istans, but began to understand when his son struck up a conversation with the young blue rider. This must be the weyrling L'ret said B'roghe was helping.
Benoroghe was welcomed into the group of weyrlings and was introduced to each of them and their dragons. Young D'don acted as if they had met before, and indeed, after a few questions, Benoroghe remembered meeting the boy several Turns earlier when his father had visited Fort Hold in his capacity of Steward of a much smaller hold. Benoroghe was thrilled to hear that D'don's family was overcoming the problems associated with the Southern Continent and building a prosperous and potentially profitable new hold despite Toric's greed.
B'roghe's father then questioned each of the other Istan weyrlings. He knew he had met, or at least seen Brendeen before this day, and was quite shocked when he realized this was the spoiled little brat who had disrupted an important meeting between Lords Holder Groghe and Kashman just a few months ago. The timing had been impeccable – the meeting had been going quite sour – but for Lord Kashman to allow one of his children to be so disrespectful was simply unforgivable under any circumstance. And now she was a gold rider? Benoroghe sincerely hoped that little Saraneth hadn't made a big mistake.
Angalyn wasn't too willing to discuss her past, simply stating what he already knew, and unwilling to reveal any more of her history. Cally, though, was a joy to listen to. She did reveal solemnly that her parents had died just two and half sevendays earlier, but quickly launched into an excited full description of the small hold they had all shared, complete with descriptions of all the berry bushes and plants, and the fishing streams and ponds and the little river the hold was named for, and all the animals they raised. She could have talked all day, thought Benoroghe with appreciative glee, if Weyrlingmaster L'ret hadn't interrupted by calling D'don away.
Mara was more willing to discuss her history than Angalyn, but required considerably more prompting than Cally. Benoroghe was quite surprised yet again, to learn that she had been a dock worker for over fifteen Turns, and had dressed as a man. She wasn't very forthcoming with information about her family though, except to say that one of her brothers worked in some sort of clerical position at Keroon Hold, and the other didn't live in Keroon anymore. Any questions about her father seemed to cause a flash of anger in her expressive eyes, so Benoroghe did not press beyond the first couple of questions on that subject.
Gredarth, though he had been very close to sleep, rose to his feet to greet D'don as he returned with three more people. The blue weyrling appeared ready to bounce nearly as much as young Cally, but obviously fought the impulse in the presence of his parents and oldest sister.
Dorravan and Aryanna were quite pleased to meet Benoroghe again, and seemed just as pleased to meet the other weyrlings and their little dragons, though most of the dragonets were too tired to greet them with more than a nod or a blink of heavy eyelids. Man and wife seemed exact opposites; he being extremely formal with each of the weyrlings, and she hugging the two little girls and using both hands to shake with the brown and bronze weyrlings. Daryanna, though, seemed quite aloof, as if forced to make this journey. She curtsied appropriately to Fort's Steward, and even to his son, but merely raised her chin – as if to look down her nose – at the other weyrlings. Her disdain for the big brown rider earned her a strong arm squeeze from her father and a very disapproving glare from her mother. Mara, however, seemed unfazed by the young woman's rudeness. Was she that simple, wondered Benoroghe or just that forgiving?
L'ret announced to all the weyrlings that midday meal would be ready in half a candle-mark, and allowed them all a bit of free time until then.
After Aryanna's third compliment on D'don's very handsome haircut, D'don began to grin with mischief. As if seeking reassurance, he turned to B'roghe – who was also grinning – and then suggested perhaps his father would like to meet the weyr barber, since he apparently hadn't found time to have his hair cut before coming to Benden Weyr. B'roghe made the same suggestion to his father, though with considerably more tact.
Both men declared almost in unison that it would surely be inappropriate to take up Weyr personnel's valuable time. Mekelroy joined the group at just that time, and declared with equal zeal that the Weyr barber was seldom busy just before a meal, and that the kitcheners would most likely appreciate his being distracted with employment he was actually suited for. When each of the other weyrlings informed the now suspicious men that the barber did wonderful work on both men and women, Aryanna added her encouragement; she would love to have such an obvious professional work on her hair again.
Neither of the highly proper men was able to resist the lovely Lady Holder's wistful longing, and soon two weyrlings were escorting their families to the Living Cavern.
Cally's increasing giggling prompted Mekelroy to turn a stern, but comical, silencing glare at her.
Cally had been so intent on watching the reactions of the visitors, she had barely registered Mekelroy's return. "Where were you, Mack? We missed you."
"Harper business. But I'm back now. What are we supposed to be doing?" Mekelroy looked to Angalyn for an answer. As he did so, Bista stretched her neck out to peer at the girl, tilting her head from side to side to get the best view.
Giggling at the little gold's antics, Angalyn answered rather shyly. "We're on free time until the meal is ready."
Mara voiced a wishful suggestion. "Is there anything we could do in the Living Cavern?"
The girls laughed, but with hope brightening their eyes. Mekelroy pretended to scold. "This is D'don's little joke. Let's let him enjoy it without a large audience."
"Little joke?" asked Mara with a smile.
"Won't those important men get mad?" asked Angalyn.
Now Mekelroy grinned mischievously. "We'll find out soon enough, won't we?"
They all sat near the sleeping dragonets as Mekelroy discussed his recent 'Harper business'. He managed to keep Cally and Angalyn entertained with inconsequential details of his trip – the colors and sizes and personalities of each of the dragons he had flown, and their riders – without ever mentioning where he had actually gone or what his business had been.
When the meal was ready, the weyrlings were formed into their marching formations, while Mekelroy stayed with the Istan dragons. As they marched in class order to the Dining Cavern, Mekelroy spoke telepathically to Mara, declaring what a wonderful little tool telepathy could be for any Harper. He filled her in on his trip this day to Southern Hold and Little River Hold.
In Southern Hold, Masterharper Mekelroy had located the canines Cally had seen, and their handler who ordered them to kill her parents. The beasts had been delivered to Toric by none other than Mekelroy just over three months earlier. The handler was in the custody of Lord Lytol's committee and being questioned thoroughly to determine where his orders had come from – as if there was any question, added Mekelroy. Master Ballora was sending the canines' original trainer to Southern Hold to reassess and retrain them prior to reassignment to a more appropriate position, perhaps as guards at a remote prison hold.
The committee, with the help of Lytol's gentle suggestions, arranged for a young couple to manage Little River Hold in keeping for Cally, the rightful Holder, until such time as she could decide how to proceed with its handling. She would have the option of returning to her home 'After', or relinquishing Little River Hold to its new managers. And, being the rightful Holder, she would of course earn a share of any profits the Hold might realize.
Will you be telling Cally about this, Master?
Shards, no! Not yet. Her immediate future is rather set; she doesn't need anything more to worry about right now. But there may come a time when she does need to know, Mara, and you seem to be closest to her right now. Don't hesitate to tell her any of this if she should ask or need to know.
Understood, Master.
Enjoy your meal, Mara.
As the weyrlings were called to a halt, Mara wondered at Mekelroy's last statement. It seemed unfinished, as if he decided at just the last moment to not mention something else. The feeling dissipated as she focused on keeping her place in the line of hungry weyrlings.
Once inside the Dining Cavern, the brown weyrling looked around the large room, hoping to see where D'don and B'roghe might be. She found them just entering from the Living Cavern. Their fathers both seemed overly determined to maintain proper decorum, their faces like stone carvings, yet, Benoroghe had a hand on B'roghe's shoulder and Dorravan had his arm across both of D'don's shoulders. The weyrlings were both grinning, D'don much wider than B'roghe, and Aryanna smiled beautifully with her slightly, but noticeably different styled head held quite high.
Mara grinned as a word from Aryanna caused both men to break out into laughter, slapping their sons' backs and each others'. A shove from behind turned her attention back to the line leading to the serving tables. A glare from the weyrlingmaster caused her to attempt suppression of her good humor, but she was only partially successful.
What is so amusing, Weyrling?
D'don and B'roghe took their fathers to see Andre, sir.
L'ret's eyes shot wide open as he turned toward the Living Cavern. The corners of his mouth twitched as he caught sight of his weyrlings just leaving their families. He turned back to Mara and simply nodded. Good for them.
The meal was quite enjoyable for the Istan weyrlings and all those who sat near them. D'don and B'roghe each did impressions of their fathers' reactions to Benden Weyr's favorite barber. Aryanna, it turned out, had been most accepting of Andre's unusual behavior and the first to allow him to work on her hair. B'roghe had been next, needing to prove to his father how harmless Andre was, despite his own reservations, which of course, only Mara picked up on. The two ranking holdbred visitors had actually argued briefly, though teasingly, about which of them would be next, with slightly older Benoroghe 'winning' at Dorravan's insistence. Only Daryanna refused Andre's expert ministrations, and D'don was thrilled to report Andre's rather insulting retort to her rude refusal.
Mara had the distinct impression that Andre had thoroughly enjoyed performing for such a high ranking audience.
As the weyrlings were being marched back to the barracks, Mara noticed a brown dragon with two passengers descending through the bowl to land at the north end. The dragons' minds – or at least their open thoughts – had gone quiet after the welcoming bugle. Deciding it wasn't her concern, Mara refocused on the task at hand, or foot, she corrected herself in good humor.
As they passed the Healers' Cavern, L'ret ordered Angalyn and Cally to go between to visit the Healers. K'remin accompanied them.
A short way further, Mara was ordered between. As agreed to by Weyrlingmaster L'ret, Mara stepped sideways, bent her knees slightly and leaned forward – an older, injured weyrling's approximation of crouching. As the last of the green weyrlings passed by, she stood again and faced the weyrlingmaster.
"Council Chambers!" was L'ret's barked order before correcting some of the weyrlings on their filling in of the vacant position.
Mara turned back the way they had just come and began walking quickly. The passengers had already disappeared as the visiting brown dragon took to the air. Listening to the dragons was not revealing anything about this situation. When Weyrleader F'lar appeared at the top of the stairs to the weyrwoman's quarters, Mara began running.
No need to hurry, Weyrling. We're waiting on others.
F'lar's mental voice seemed to convey both humor and irritation. Mara returned to walking, but at a faster than normal speed. As she reached the bottom of the stairs, so did Master Harper Mekelroy.
"Where's Bista?" asked Mara, trying to hide her growing concern.
"Running errands," quipped the harper. "Come along, little weyrling; time for more fun and games." With that, he trotted up the stairs ahead of Mara.
Mara knew better – finally – than to even try moving faster up that long stone stairway. She was slightly out of breath as she reached the top and bowed her head to Ramoth. "Good day, Ramoth."
It will be, Mara.
Mara's smile faded quickly; what did she mean by that? She turned toward the Chamber to find Lessa waiting for her. "What's happening, Weyrwoman Lessa?"
Lessa forced a smile. "It seems to be family visitation day at Benden Weyr." She held out her hand and when Mara took it, pulled her into the curtained hallway. "Don't worry, dear. We'll not let you leave Benden Weyr just yet."
As F'lar pulled back the curtain, Lessa released Mara's hand and walked ahead to her usual chair. Mara stood in stunned shock; at the far end of the room stood Lord Holder Kashman and her father, Marlan. She could almost believe this was not her father; he was so much thinner than just two sevendays earlier.
"Weyrling?" prompted F'lar.
Mara snapped her eyes to her weyrleader and tried to smile. "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir," she said as she passed the curtain. She took a few steps into the room and stopped.
Marlan walked awkwardly toward Mara. "Mara! My darling daughter! Oh, you've lost weight!" He raised his arms as if inviting her into a hug.
F'lar stepped in front of Mara and, with his back to the visitors, made quite a show of pulling out a chair near the middle of the long table, on the near side of the chair Master Mekelroy seemed to have claimed.
As Marlan was about to pass the harper, Mekelroy grabbed his right hand and stopped his progress with a firm, controlling handshake. "I don't believe we've been introduced, sir." When the much taller and thinner man nearly snarled, Mekelroy pretended to not notice. "I am Master Harper Mekelroy, on temporary assignment here at Benden Weyr."
Marlan, unpracticed in proper manners, made a poor attempt. "It's a pleasure, Harper." He then tried to get past to reach his daughter.
Mekelroy, the true Master that he was, successfully redirected the man back to the other end of the room using their joined hands as the pivot point. "And your name, sir? And Mara is your daughter? Unbelievable! Do tell me what she was like as a child."
After thanking F'lar for his invaluable assistance sitting in his chosen chair, Mara's visual focus relaxed. As she noticed again the other man now seated in F'lar's chair, she nodded. "Lord Holder Kashman." The man didn't even nod; he raised his chin and then averted his eyes. Mara followed his gaze and found her fellow weyrlings' families sitting on the other side of the table. "Lord Holder Dorravan. Lady Aryanna. Steward Benoroghe." They, at least – even though they appeared just as speechless as Mara felt – each nodded and returned her name. Lady Aryanna even smiled with much appreciated encouragement. Daryanna was not in the room.
Kashman, growing impatient as the harper and F'lar took their time seating themselves, asked belligerently, "And where are those bronze riders who abducted one of my people?"
Lessa smiled almost kindly at the man. "They're on their way, Lord Kashman. They were all engaged in other duties when you arrived so unexpectedly."
"We don't need them just yet." Kashman turned to his fellow holders, hoping for support. "You all know why we are here. We came to demand the return of this woman to her home."
"This is my home," squeaked Mara, much to her embarrassment.
Lessa ignored the weyrling and with frightening casualness responded to the Lord Holder. "I'm afraid that is simply not possible, Lord Kashman. She impressed a dragon four days ago."
Marlan nearly spat his disgust. "A brown dragon, I hear tell!"
Kashman raised his hand to silence the man, and smiled with condescension at Lessa. "Surely you'll not allow such a travesty to continue, Weyrwoman Lessa."
Lessa caught F'lar's hand as he raised it prior to speaking. She squeezed and continued smiling as she spoke far too sweetly. "We see no travesty, Lord Kashman. Our dragons choose and we accept their choices, even when we don't completely understand."
Kashman blustered at such calm acceptance. "But, this dragon is obviously defective in some way!"
"We've learned from early Weyr Records – thanks to Aivas' help – that some of the blue dragons chose women in the earliest Turns to the benefit of their Weyrs. Why not a brown, or a bronze for that matter?"
Benoroghe tried to cough up whatever just tried to choke him.
Kashman continued his attempt at concealed insult as Lessa continued responding with no apparent negative feelings.
Mara listened in disbelief as they seemed to banter back and forth, Kashman getting more angry by the moment, and Lessa and the others becoming more amused. Only Marlan seemed oblivious to the discussion. When Mara listened in to his thoughts, her nose twitched in disgust. The man was wondering where the complimentary snacks were. And far more importantly, where was the wine usually served at the almighty Holders' and Weyrleaders' meetings? If he could just get the pack-beast back into his cot, he would never go hungry or thirsty again. And now that he knew of other ways she could bring in money . . .
Mara stopped listening. She fought to maintain calm as anger consumed her to the core. 'My darling daughter' was now nothing more than 'the pack-beast'. Is that all she had ever been to this man who sired her? Hadn't there once been more to their family than that? Lord Kashman's raised voice drew her attention back to the discussion.
"She belongs in Keroon!"
Now Mara found her voice. "This is my home, Lord Holder Kashman."
Kashman appeared shocked. He glared before blustering, "Silence, woman!" He turned toward his fellow Holders and was about to speak again, but was unable to even begin.
"Lord Holder Kashman!" When she had his full, but disapproving attention, Mara continued. "You are arguing about my future, Lord Kashman! Do either of you even care what I want?"
"What you want is not the issue! We are arguing about what is best for you."
"According to the Charter of Pern, Lord Holder Kashman, it is an issue." Mara forged on as he took a breath to stop her. "The Charter says that every person of majority age shall have the right of self determination. Every person, Lord Holder Kashman, man or woman, who is old enough to choose, has the right to choose their own future."
Clapping could be heard from beyond the curtain, but was quickly shushed by a familiar voice. All turned to see Masterharper Sebell as he ducked through the curtain with a smile adorning his already handsome face.
"Your reading has improved considerably, Brown Rider Mara." Sebell nodded at the flustered weyrling as he moved around the table to sit near the weyrleaders. "And you're reading the Charter of Pern already?"
"Thank you, Masterharper Sebell. Yes, I find the Charter to be very . . . interesting."
"Enlightening, I should imagine!" When the weyrling seemed confused, he played their old game. "Like opening the shutters in a very dark cot?"
Mara smiled with true glee. "Yes, Masterharper! The Charter of Pern is extremely enlightening."
Marlan chose that moment to question his Lord Holder. "Does the Charter really say that?"
"How would I know," fumed Kashman. "I don't have time to read all that old historical dung." Gasps from Benden's visitors prompted him to lessen the impact of his impulsive words. "I have a large Hold to manage, after all."
Sebell quickly distracted everyone from Kashman's error in judgment. "Healer Hall sends its apologies. Masterhealer Oldive will not be able to attend. He is currently in the middle of a particularly difficult surgery."
"Surgery?" gasped Kashman in shock.
"Yes," Sebell was unfazed. "He and a team of journeyman specialists are attempting to reattach the leg of a young Holder who was injured in a forestry accident. If they are successful, this young man will still be able to support his family, his Craft, and his Hold. The injured man felt the attempt well worth the risk of possible failure with the hope the Healers would learn enough about such injuries to help others in the future. Master Oldive did send a message out of the surgery though, suggesting that Master Healer Tarminas is also fully aware of all the pertinent facts."
"I'll send for him," said Lessa.
Kashman was becoming outraged. "Where are those bronze riders? I haven't had the chance to question them, yet."
F'lar raised his voice slightly in the direction of the dropped curtain. "Riders?"
Bronze riders B'nor, G'regg and G'raden filed in and each addressed their weyrleaders.
Mara tried to not look at G'raden, worried about any feelings that might resurface.
Lessa noticed the weyrling's discomfort. Stay angry, Mara. It will help overshadow any inappropriate feelings.
Anger's not a good thing, Lessa.
Anger is a tool, Mara. Used appropriately, it can be a very effective management device.
Understood. Thank you, Lessa.
As Kashman tried to intimidate the errant bronze riders with questions of their sobriety and their intentions on Keroon's recent Gather Day, he became increasingly infuriated at their apparent lack of concern for the severity of the crime they were accused of committing.
Lady Aryanna voiced the question the men at her sides were discussing. "How, bronze riders, did you learn that Mara needed your help?"
"Our dragons told us," answered G'raden simply.
"And how did they know she needed help?" asked Dorravan.
All three bronze riders looked at Lessa for permission to discuss what might be considered a Weyr secret. When she nodded, G'raden answered with perfectly clear speech. "Mara has the ability to hear and speak to all dragons. That day, Lord Holder Dorravan, in her distress, she managed, unintentionally, to call to all the dragons on Pern for help. As we were already in Keroon Hold, we saw it as our duty to answer her call and indeed, the plea of our dragons to help such an important future asset to all of Pern."
Mara could feel all the blood drain from her face as everyone in the room stared at her, some in appreciation and some in disbelief. She held her head high, though, as Lessa herself had already made it clear that she had done nothing wrong that day. G'raden's final words though – "important future asset to all of Pern"? – gave new gravity to her abilities.
Kashman, after several heartbeats, nearly exploded. "I don't believe this! No one can call all the dragons of Pern!"
Lessa stood up and glared at the man. "I have the ability to call all the dragons of Benden Weyr, or all the Queen dragons of Pern. I've never had the need to call all the dragons of Pern, but have no doubt that I could." When Kashman shook his head in disbelief, Lessa demonstrated on a very small scale; all the dragons of Benden Weyr, including Ramoth at the end of the hallway, let out a roar of anger.
Several snickers were heard throughout the chamber as both Kashman and Marlan climbed back into their chairs.
Marlan looked with frightened respect at his daughter. "Mara can't do that."
"Mara?" With that one word, Lessa gave the weyrling permission to speak to the dragons of Benden Weyr as she resumed her seat.
Tarminas entered the Chamber while everyone watched the big woman's eyes lose focus. Marlan began snickering, obviously unconvinced, but stopped as a mass of huffing in different tones infiltrated the Council Chambers. The dragonriders and harpers in the room all either smiled or snickered.
"What is that?" demanded Kashman. He held his hands to his ears as the very walls seemed to reverberate with all the noise.
Sebell answered. "That, Lord Holder Kashman, is draconic laughter."
"It took her longer than the weyrwoman," snapped back Marlan.
Kashman pointed at Lessa. "You did that when she couldn't!"
Lessa, smiling, but with fury evident to anyone knowing her, answered calmly. "No, I did not. Mara, why did it take you longer to get a reaction?"
Mara shrugged, but smiled self consciously. "They're all pretty angry that the Lord Holder wants to take me away, so I had to tell them a funny story to get them to laugh."
Now, the visiting families joined the laughter.
Mekelroy couldn't resist asking, "What story did you tell them?"
Mara blushed and rolled her eyes. "I don't think it would translate very well into human speech, Master Mekelroy."
"So, she can speak to dragons." Kashman stood to emphasize his not-yet-understood point. "That does not change the fact that she was abducted from my Hold."
Mara stood as well, determined to stop this before it caused the dragons any more distress. "I was not abducted, Lord Kashman. I was rescued! And I would not have needed rescuing if my . . . father . . . hadn't sold me to the highest bidder in an ale hold!"
"You sold your daughter?" asked Benoroghe with open disgust as Dorravan tried to calm his highly agitated wife.
As Marlan sputtered, Lessa reminded him of a common and very useful myth. "You are aware that dragons are able to detect falsehoods."
Marlan's eyes darted around the room in fear. He finally addressed Mara with a pitiful plea. "It was just a joke."
Benoroghe and Dorravan blurted in unison, "A joke?"
"A joke," said Tarminas loud enough to be heard by all as he too stood, "that very nearly cost your daughter her very life. If she had not called for help from the dragons of Pern when she did, sir, she would most likely have died from her injuries within minutes afterwards. These bronze riders brought her to Benden Weyr with barely enough time to spare to stop massive internal bleeding caused by the results of your joke!" Tarminas had worked himself into impressive fury, but stopped before detailing the long list of Mara's injuries.
"She doesn't look injured to me!" declared Kashman.
"Oh, she has made a remarkable recovery." Tarminas partially smiled at what he had witnessed. "But, have no doubt, Lord Holder, this woman will bear the scars of her father's betrayal for all the days of her life."
"How so?" asked Kashman. He only now began to eye Marlan with some measure of suspicion.
Tarminas addressed the weyrling. "May I tell them, Lady Mara?"
Shocked at the use of the undeserved title almost as much as by this unbelievable meeting, Mara simply nodded.
"She has suffered irreparable damage to at least two major joints which is likely to cause severe joint ail as she ages. The damage to her ribs will likely cause considerable discomfort eventually. The damage to her skull may well have caused damage we can only imagine, and worst of all . . ." The healer took a deep breath before continuing with deep heartfelt regret. "This lovely, sweet, kind woman will never have the opportunity to mother a child of her own making."
The holders all gasped at the last revelation. Kashman now believed the woman in question to be totally worthless to his Hold. Benoroghe, Dorravan, and Aryanna however, considered such a loss to be the utmost violation of any individual's right to a happy future, raising children. Marlan merely mimicked the others, trying to fit in.
"You lied to me," said Kashman finally to Marlan. To the weyrleaders, he said, "If this woman is happy here, and if you really want her, I think it would be in her best interest to stay at Benden Weyr." And with that, he started to leave, his dignity – at least in his mind – still intact.
Marlan followed his Lord Holder while everyone else in the room stood – hinting at respect for the departing Lord Holder – but stopped near Mara and tried one last act of desperation. "Mara, sweetums, please come home with me. I need you, you know."
Mara avoided his attempted reach for her hands by backing up. "Benden Weyr is my home now, Da." As he stared with a mixture of anger and regret, she began to wonder. "What was the winning bid, Da? The last I heard was three marks." When he merely sputtered, she pressed further. "I'd just like to know what I was worth to you Da. Ten marks? Twenty? More?"
Marlan nearly choked with laughter. "You haughty beast! I only got four marks for your ugly hide! Not even worth the bother!"
Mekelroy slammed into the garishly laughing man, managing to ram a fist into his side which pushed him away from Mara and toward the exit. "Oh, my apologies, Holder Marlan. I tripped over my own feet. Imagine that!" He continued pushing the man all the way out of the Council Chamber as he profusely apologized and made comical excuses for his 'clumsiness'.
Mara remained standing, facing the interior of the room as Lessa and F'lar escorted everyone else out of the Chamber. When it was quiet, Mara took a deep breath. She had work to do, and it wouldn't get done standing here. She turned slowly by sheer force of will, and found G'raden standing a step away. Her fragile composure shattered immediately. Her next breath was a heart wrenching sob as she stepped into G'raden's tender embrace. She cried almost silently into his big strong shoulder for quite some time while he soothed her with loving and comforting words of reassurance promising that everything would be just fine.