So sorry for the long delay - again. Holidays! (Shudders uncontrollably)
Lessa chuckled as she leaned back against Ramoth's folded forepaw. She had been watching the goings-on in the bowl when she noticed Mara and T'men talking. As the woman pulled the man toward the lake, Benden's Weyrwoman was pleased that one brown weyrling was taking her special assignment so seriously, but hoped the woman's forcefulness wouldn't frighten T'men even more.
F'lar walked out of their shared weyr and smiled at the sight of his Lady relaxing and apparently enjoying something happening to the South. He kissed the top of her head before turning to see what was tickling his normally reserved weyrmate.
He stiffened immediately. "Is that weyrling dragging my Wingleader?"
Lessa's smile disappeared as she wiped her brow in an overly dramatic gesture. "It's getting warm. Let's have some juice while we discuss our weyrling and our Wingleader, shall we?"
"Is she dragging him toward the lake, and our youngest weyrwomen?"
Lessa took his arm and turned him back into their weyr. "Come along, dear. Too much bright sunlight can adversely affect your vision."
F'lar, curious now to see what his weyrmate was conniving, allowed himself to be guided to their little table deep inside the weyr. "Shall I add 'matchmaker' to your long list of accomplishments, my dear?"
"I'm hardly matchmaking, F'lar. I'm simply ensuring a smooth transition of power at Ista Weyr."
"By having Weyrling Mara introduce Wingleader T'men to Weyrling Brendeen? You know how improper that is, Lessa."
"Brendeen and Mara will keep it proper for Saraneth's sake. We need T'men to seriously consider G'dened's proposal sooner rather than later."
"G'dened's proposal?"
"He believes it was his idea."
"So you're sweetening the pot by giving T'men a taste of the prize?"
Lessa glared at her now seated weyrmate while she considered a response less heated than impulse dictated. "T'men's only knowledge of Brendeen is from our last Hatching. Meeting her as she truly is should relieve his anxiety considerably."
As Lessa finished pouring juice, F'lar pulled her onto his lap. "Ah yes. Knowing the prize is worth the price always ensures better performance."
oOoOo
"Wait!" T'men tugged on Mara's arm until she stopped and turned. "You haven't answered me. Can you forgive my drunken behavior?"
"I can, but I can't speak for L'ret." She grinned at T'men's pained groan. "Don't worry. He was laughing about it last night. Come on, before someone else offers to help."
T'men allowed himself to be pulled along, knowing he would have to meet Brendeen sooner or later. Might as well learn all the facts of the situation before making a final decision. When he recognized the strange feeling he was experiencing as that of a young boy being dragged to meet yet another distant relative at a Gather, he pulled his hand out of Mara's, squared his shoulders and ran a hand over his probably messy hair.
When Brendeen turned around to greet Mara, T'men was shocked – quite pleasantly so – by the lovely young woman. She carried herself like the proper Lady of any of the best Holds, even while wearing stained, loose fitting work clothes and uncurled hair tied back with a hide strap. This could not possibly be the spoiled little girl he had seen at Benden's last Hatching. T'men grinned as the future Weyrwoman of Ista Weyr – if Caylith's choice was honored – invited Mara into a friendly hug. His reverie was interrupted when the young Lady turned to him.
"You must be Wingleader T'men." Brendeen held out her delicate hand for a formal handshake as she approached the bronze rider.
"I am, but how did you know?"
Brendeen smiled beautifully. "Number one: you have the tan of an Istan. Number two: any fool would recognize those amazing blue eyes all the ladies of the Weyr talk about. And number three: Saraneth told me you belong to Reyuth."
T'men had never been one to consider a person's physical appearance to be of any relevance – beyond cleanliness of course. Normally, any mention of his fortunate inheritance irritated his Harper sensibilities. So why was he blushing at the recognition of his admittedly unusual eyes by this girl with bright, sparkling green eyes?
Number three caused a burst of laughter as the tall man took the young Lady's hand. He bent low to deliver a kiss to said hand, but was stopped mid bow by a menacing growl from Saraneth. After a quick assessment of the situation, he merely nodded his head, squeezed and released her hand and quickly stood up straight.
"No, dear, he was not going to bite my hand." Brendeen spoke gently, but firmly to her young queen, but winked at T'men. "Were you, sir?"
T'men turned and bowed to the young gold. "Lovely Saraneth, I will never harm your precious rider. It is common for a man to kiss the hand of a lovely Lady as a sign of respect."
The tilt of the golden head indicated she might eventually accept his explanation. Her low growl indicated she hadn't just yet.
Mara bit her lips to maintain silence after hearing the more private conversation between Brendeen and Saraneth. The little gold had feared T'men biting her rider, but had been bothered far more by the strange feeling in Brendeen's belly. The girl had tried to explain that it was nothing to worry about, but Saraneth was not convinced, and did not want her rider to risk any further such incidents.
"My apologies, Wingleader T'men. Saraneth is still . . . puzzled by yesterday's mating flight. She's not at all thrilled by the prospect of being chased."
"Are you?" asked T'men with embarrassingly uncharacteristic candor. One more reason, he scolded himself, he should never drink more than one glass of wine or ale. His self control was diminished far longer than a mere wine-head ever lasted.
Brendeen blushed. "Thrilled? No, but as a major Holder's daughter, I am at least accustomed to being chased."
Saraneth's growl grew in volume, effectively stopping T'men from pursuing this line of teasing. Perhaps the young gold's irritation was answer enough to whether her rider had ever been caught.
A quick defeated glance from T'men – and having heard his thoughts – caused Mara to quickly step in to save the man from embarrassing himself further. "Can we help you bathe Saraneth?" She turned quickly to Tianna. "And Biradeth?"
As Brendeen was still blushing at T'men, Tianna answered for both with a slightly haughty smirk. "Assistance is always appreciated."
The two young golds also approved, though Saraneth forced herself between her rider and T'men. Mara, at Tianna's suggestion, helped with Biradeth.
Biradeth's attendants kept quiet except for some obligatory compliments in regards to the gold's remarkable cooperation, and listened intently to the conversation occurring over Saraneth's back.
T'men was extremely cautious in his questioning of Brendeen, who gave sometimes veiled answers quickly followed by her own questions of the bronze rider. They quickly learned about family ties – though Brendeen's were fairly well known to anyone who kept up with Pern's elite – and soon moved on to likes and dislikes. T'men attempted to learn something about Brendeen's political beliefs, but changed the subject quickly when Saraneth began growling again. Apparently, thought T'men, something about politics – perhaps current situations on Pern? – bothered the young woman; he would have to learn more . . . later.
Klamath woke up about midway through the golds' baths and was thrilled to be invited to join them in the lake. He was hurt slightly when Mara didn't want to talk much, but soon found himself immersed in the conversation occurring around Saraneth and the thoughts his rider was hearing.
Is this part of human mating? he asked innocently.
Can we talk about this later, sweet heart?
Saraneth says her rider's belly feels strange, like yours does when Normond's rider is around. And the greens yesterday felt strange in the belly before they flew. Is it the same thing?
I guess it is, love.
Are they going to mate? Can we watch?
Mara caught Klamath's head in her hands and forced him to look at her instead of the pair scrubbing Saraneth. They are not going to mate, Klamath! At least not for many, many months, if ever.
Oh. The excitement in the little brown's eyes faded. My back itches.
Then let's get to work, love.
All right. But . . . We can talk about it later.
A highly refined form of giggling could be heard from the other side of Biradeth. Tianna's smile when she rose to look at Mara indicated her dragon had conveyed at least Klamath's side of that conversation. Biradeth, when her bath was complete, magnanimously allowed her rider to help bathe Klamath while Brendeen and T'men scrubbed and rescrubbed Saraneth, both seeming oblivious to their audience.
The conversation over the soon to be hide-less gold had moved on to where each had been and who they had met in their travels. T'men was still trying, indirectly, to determine Brendeen's political stance, and was hoping to learn more about her association with Mekelroy and any other Harpers. But Brendeen continued to be evasive, skipping over considerable details and changing the subject repeatedly.
T'men grew more and more frustrated with each change of subject, but fought to maintain his 'harper smile'. This girl seemed to know what he was looking for and was purposely avoiding giving it to him. Any other time, he might enjoy the game she was playing, but he needed to know far more about her before he even considered what G'dened had proposed and Benden's Weyrleaders strongly supported. That thought snapped him back closer to his normal self. He now realized his frustration was with his Weyrleaders, not the young girl he was speaking with.
As Klamath walked out of the lake after his thoroughly enjoyable scrubbing from two weyrlings, Saraneth stated firmly that she had not been dirty enough to warrant such a long bathing session. Brendeen apologized for being so easily distracted by such entertaining conversation, and they, with T'men, joined Tianna, Mara, and their dragons for a session with the oil rags.
Saraneth grew agitated rather quickly, declaring that 'that bronze rider' was obviously unfamiliar with proper oiling technique. She grew even more agitated when 'that bronze rider' joined her rider to learn the proper technique.
Mara fought a giggle – Tianna lost her similar battle – as Brendeen apologetically suggested T'men stand back – way back - and watch.
T'men, unaware of Brendeen's 'belly' problem, brooded – though he did maintain his practiced smile - about what was bothering Saraneth. He needed to know so much more about the young gold rider. Why was Saraneth making it so difficult? And, how old was this young lady? She had avoided that question with a firm conviction that she was old enough to make her own decisions. The way she stated that little fact hinted that she was barely over sixteen Turns. Her other answers, though – those she actually provided – hinted at far more life experience.
As oiling was completed, weyrlings and their dragons were called into marching formation. T'men caught up with Mara as she and Klamath were about to join their class. He pulled her aside, out of hearing of the other weyrlings. "Does she know what they have planned for us?" he asked almost as if talking to himself. He continued without even waiting for an answer. "What does she think of those plans? What does she think of me? Is there any chance this could work as well as they think it will?" He searched Mara's distraught face. "She never answered most of my questions. The future of Ista Weyr depends on this, Mara. The future of Pern depends on what she's thinking."
Mara's jaw dropped. Why would T'men ask her such things? "T'men, I can't tell you what Brendeen's thinking." The desperation on his normally calm and calming face prompted a repeat. "I can't, T'men."
The bronze rider closed his eyes and clenched his jaw and fists. Of course, she couldn't tell what Brendeen was thinking; that would make this decision far too easy. But he had to know so many things about the young gold rider before he made such a life altering decision.
Mara watched her friend in a state of shock. He was angry! At her! For not telling what someone else was thinking? T'men had been at that meeting with Masterharper Sebell – had that really been less than a month ago? – and had seemed to agree that this 'gift' – what a false label that was – could be an invasion of peoples' privacy. How could he think she would share Brendeen's private thoughts? "T'men, she's not thinking anything bad . . . about any of this."
T'men didn't catch her attempted hint. He shook his head, turned and walked away.
Mara wanted to stop him, to make him understand, to make him stop worrying, but what would he do? He was so angry. Would he hit her? And what could she say that wouldn't violate Brendeen's privacy. What was wrong with T'men?
"Mara!"
L'ret's bellow caused the weyrling to jump. As she turned to respond, she nearly tripped over Klamath. The little brown watched her intently with orange infused orbs.
Why is he mad at you?
I don't know, love. But we'd better get back to work. We'll have to think about this later.
Reyuth says his rider's head isn't right. What does that mean?
Mara chuckled as they watched for a spot in the formation. That means he's not thinking straight. That's not at all like T'men. Here we go. Now.
The brown and his rider moved smoothly into the back of the formation. Both put T'men to the back of their minds as they marched through more and more complicated maneuvers with the rest of the weyrlings. Both enjoyed the increasing challenge of maintaining their proper positions as random weyrlings were called to go between at some unusual stages of the exercise.
When all the weyrlings and their dragons had joined the formation and been through several of the new movements, L'ret called a halt. He then introduced them to a new formation - 'guard the golds' – in which the two gold weyrlings and their dragons were placed at the center of the formation. As weyrlings were called to go between, all the others had to move around the golds to fill in vacant positions, always keeping the two golds 'guarded' from anything outside the formation. This would help the weyrlings and their young dragons develop more awareness of what was happening around them.
L'ret, a patient teacher – even if he didn't often display that personality trait – allowed the weyrlings to fumble their position changes somewhat before introducing rules regarding who should fill in a space, depending on where the vacancy occurred. He was well pleased with this class's progress by the time little dragons began dragging with fatigue.
After all the youngest dragons were napping soundly, L'ret called the newest weyrlings to watch the next older class practice self-defense. The session was quite mild, as the older weyrling's dragons had only recently begun to understand that practice was not really fighting, and that the full riders 'attacking' their riders meant no harm and were indeed doing their riders a great favor by teaching them to protect themselves. Weyrlings were now learning to adjust their thought processes as well; anger or fear would only incite their lifemates, so they were learning to appreciate and enjoy this particular lesson.
Mara was fascinated by the whole session; both by the physical movements and the mental adjustments the more experienced weyrlings were making, some with more difficulty than others. The older riders would throw slow punches and charge the weyrlings with silly grins on their faces, and even trip the weyrlings, catching them before they hit the ground. It wasn't difficult to pick out those weyrlings needing help with their emotions, even without hearing their thoughts. Only a few of the weyrlings needed to be taken aside – often with a full rider's arm over their shoulders – to discuss their attitudes and the purpose of self-defense exercises.
Unknown to Mara, or any of the weyrlings, was that the older riders would shift their attentions between the 'problem' weyrlings. When a helpful word or phrase caused the desired shift in a weyrling's perception of the exercise, the riders would share that information with the others and of course, the Weyrlingmaster. This group of full riders was experienced in helping L'ret teach self-defense, and self-control. Among them were G'regg, B'nor and G'raden.
Mara made every effort possible to avoid looking at G'raden as he moved to work with a young green weyrling. She couldn't resist smiling when he did his monster impression, so much like her first meeting with Normond. She worried when the small boy nearly screamed, apparently unaccustomed to such playfulness from such a large man. She quickly found need to fight a bout of jealous envy though when G'raden led the tearful boy away from the group with his big arm laid carefully over small, trembling shoulders. Oh, how she wished that arm could lie across her shoulders.
Why are you sad?
I thought you were sleeping!
I'm not as tired as Mynth and Nayrith and Gredarth. That big bronze rider doesn't scare you?
Mara huffed in her thoughts. Which big bronze rider?
Klamath returned her huff. Normond's rider.
No, my love, G'raden doesn't scare me. Does he scare you?
Again Klamath huffed. My teeth are already bigger than his, and sharper.
You would bite a bronze rider?
If he ever hurts you, I would!
Oh, brave Klamath. I don't think G'raden would ever hurt anyone.
The little brown huffed without humor as he shifted position to gain better advantage of the warm, sleep-promoting sunshine, and was very soon asleep.
Mara scolded herself for not watching her thoughts closer, and then excused herself; Klamath had been deep asleep. She reviewed her thoughts and feelings, and believed neither to have been strong enough to have roused her precious little lifemate. Was he growing out of the need for long, deep naps? When did little dragons normally stop taking naps? She decided to ask L'ret later, or perhaps L'terick or K'remin if either stood watch this night.
The self-defense lessons continued for about a candle-mark. On occasion, L'ret would halt everyone to ask a weyrling and his accompanying rider to repeat an especially good move for all in both classes to watch and learn.
Mara and B'roghe enjoyed watching Cally and D'don bounce in place, so excited were they to try some of the moves smaller people could use against larger. B'roghe had to promise to show them later some of the moves, but only in the most playful way; he did not wish to incur the wrath of either of their dragons, small as they were. Angalyn seemed bothered by the entire concept of fighting, play or not. She did agree with B'roghe though, that self-defense was a good thing for anyone to learn.
After a short lecture on how practice fighting might affect young dragons and the signs weyrlings should watch for to protect their lifemates, all the weyrlings were dismissed to work on their afternoon chores. The Istan weyrlings were all, with a couple of others, assigned to assist a Lower Caverns woman with deep cleaning one of the ground level weyrs.
After scrubbing all the walls, the ceiling – with the use of ladders – and the floors, the Istans were very tired and ready for the evening meal and hopefully some free time.
Mara was easily distracted from thoughts of T'men by sometimes animated discussions about the self-defense class and friendly banter about whose dragon would really fly first. The food seemed rather bland to the brown weyrling, though most of the other weyrlings returned for second portions. B'roghe, worried about her unusual lack of appetite, tried to tempt Mara into eating more by challenging her to list the herbs Manora had used. When she still refused seconds, all the weyrlings joined in teasing her for not eating more than everyone else. Mara took it in stride, saying she was just leaving more for them for a change.
As the evening meal came to an end, a commotion drew the weyrlings' attention to the other side of the massive cavern. A long line of riders passed the table T'men sat at, each one dropping a skin of wine in front of him. T'men sat shaking his head while all the riders on that side of the room howled with laughter.
"What's happening?" asked Cally.
"A little joke," answered B'roghe. To Mara, who looked almost as confused as Cally, he added for her ears only, "Look at their knots."
Indeed, each of the riders – green, blue, brown and bronze alike – made a point of dropping their wine skin with their 'brown rider' shoulder knots clearly visible to T'men.
Mara was horrified. She hadn't told anyone about last night, so wondered who had. How could they tease T'men like that? He was already embarrassed about the incident. Why grind his nose in it? She sought out L'ret, and much to her dismay found him chuckling at the parade.
L'ret noticed the weyrling's disbelieving glare. How a rider handles friendly teasing says a lot about his or her leadership potential. Watch, listen and learn.
Mara was shocked. Her Weyrlingmaster approved of this? Could he have even set this up? She searched out T'men in the babble of excited thoughts filling the cavern and reaching all the way to the kitchens and even the Living Cavern. She did happen to notice that most of the thoughts she waded through were indeed friendly, not mean. When she finally located T'men, she relaxed considerably. He was of course embarrassed by so much attention over such poor judgment, but equally relieved the people of this Weyr were so forgiving of his less than stellar behavior. And this little joke would remind him always to be far more careful with his wine consumption. Above all else running through his mind, was an immense joy at having been accepted by the people of Benden Weyr – as a rider, as a man with faults, and as a friend.
As the last man dropped his wineskin on the huge teetering pile before T'men, and joined all the others lined up for full inspection by the deeply blushing Wingleader – some even standing on the next row of tables for their share of attention – Wingleader G'regg bellowed for all to hear.
"So, bronze rider, who will you offer the pleasure of your bed this night?"
Laughter once again echoed through the cavern as each of the men preened or posed or gyrated in competition for T'men's attention. The noise subsided when T'men stood to properly inspect the line of men.
After a formal bow, he addressed the assembled riders. "You good men honor me, but I fear I'll need at least three of these skins in my belly before I can even consider your offers."
An impatient green rider spoke for all. "Well, drink up man! The night's a wasting!"
Another round of robust laughter ended only after T'men raised his arms to regain their attention. "As tempting as your offers are, I must regretfully decline." It took a bit longer to quiet the grumbles. "We do fly Thread tomorrow after all."
After successfully deflecting reminders that Thread wasn't until after midday, T'men convinced the assembled men – all of whom pretended irreparable dejection – to retrieve their wine skins and get some rest for tomorrow's chores.
The men filed out of the Dining Cavern with long faces and slumped shoulders, causing T'men to shake his head while laughing so hard tears clouded his eyes. When only three skins remained on the table, G'regg, B'nor and G'raden each picked up one and they herded their 'new brother' out of the Cavern.
Mara was thrilled that T'men had handled the teasing so well, and that he was feeling accepted by his fellow riders. She was also relieved that she wouldn't have to speak with him again this evening; G'raden and his friends would keep him occupied, and not by drinking from those skins, she was sure.
As the weyrlings were filed out of the Cavern, L'ret spoke to Mara. Learn anything?
Yes, sir. T'men feels accepted now.
A chuckle came through the link. The highest honor a rider can receive is friendly teasing from fellow riders over minor faults.
Yes, sir!
"Mara! Step out of line!" You stay here. Our Weyrleaders would like to speak with you.
Yes, sir. Mara sidestepped and walked toward L'ret at the rear of the line.
As the last of the weyrlings left the Cavern, L'ret nodded at Mara and followed his students.
Mara turned to find the Weyrleaders sitting alone at the long, raised head table. When Lessa smiled and motioned her to join them, she nodded back and made her way around the table. As she walked, Lessa asked one of the kitchen workers for a glass of water. As she took the offered seat between F'lar and Lessa, F'lar told the worker delivering water that they would like to be undisturbed for awhile.
Lessa started the conversation. "How did the meeting between T'men and Brendeen go?"
The question seemed so innocent, but Mara suddenly felt trapped between her Weyrleaders. Would they push for details of Brendeen's thoughts? "It went good, Lessa. I don't think either of them dislikes the other."
F'lar continued the questioning with his head resting on two fingers at his temple. "You don't know for sure?"
Mara caught the strong hint, and felt even more trapped. "They both have lots of questions. I think they'll be friends at least once they get to talk more."
"What kind of questions?" asked Lessa.
Mara snapped her head away from F'lar's severe expression to face Lessa. What could she say without violating either's thoughts? "T'men doesn't know yet how old Brendeen is."
"Anything else?" asked F'lar.
Mara turned slowly to face the man, and found her movement to be rather shaky. "Not that I can talk about, sir."
"Why not?" asked Lessa with a hint of impatience.
The brown weyrling wasn't quite able to fully face her Weyrwoman. She looked at the wine glass Lessa held instead. "Anything more came from their private thoughts, Lessa."
F'lar grinned at his weyrmate, but wiped the grin away before sounding rather annoyed. "Surely, you can at least give us some helpful hints, Weyrling."
Mara tried to turn, but didn't manage to look past her glass of water. When she tried to grasp the glass, her hand trembled, so she placed both hands in her lap. "They seemed to enjoy their talk, sir. And I think they'll get along really good if they can talk more. Sar . . ." The woman grimaced at a near violation of Brendeen's privacy.
"Saraneth?" asked Lessa. "What about Saraneth?"
Mara mentally kicked herself; why was she so slow? "Saraneth didn't seem to like T'men being too close to Brendeen."
"Why?" asked F'lar, grinning at the weyrling's lowered head even as he continued to sound irritated.
"I can't say, sir." Oh, how she was tempted to listen to her Weyrleaders' thoughts just now. But she did not.
"Why?" pushed F'lar, though he didn't sound quite as angry.
Surely, F'lar and Lessa remembered the meeting with Masterharper Sebell! Mara was embarrassed when her voice sounded so weak when she answered. "That would be a violation of Brendeen's privacy, sir."
"Look at me Mara," said Lessa gently.
Mara turned her head and was surprised to see Lessa smiling kindly.
"We won't ask you to violate anyone's privacy, dear. We're satisfied with your assessment of their compatibility."
F'lar's throat clearing didn't sound very agreeable to Lessa's statement. "One has to wonder, though," began Benden's Weyrleader, "if ethics shouldn't be stretched somewhat in certain circumstances."
Lessa put a hand on the weyrling's arm to keep her from turning. Her eyes sparkled as she asked, "Did Brendeen have a physical reaction to T'men's closeness?"
Much more relaxed now, Mara battled this ethical dilemma only briefly before remembering what she had seen with her eyes: Brendeen had wriggled a bit more than normal, and she had held her hand at her belly longer than normal several times. "It looked like she did. And Saraneth's actions seem to hint that she did."
"Good!" Lessa's whole face lit up. "That's a good start."
"Oh, be realistic, Lessa," grumbled F'lar. "That could just as likely be a residual aftereffect of yesterday's mating flight."
"Quite possible," agreed Lessa, but her confident smile suggested she believed otherwise.
The Weyrleaders kept Mara for a short while longer, questioning her on what she had seen and heard – with her ears – during the introduction of Ista's next Weyrwoman to Wingleader T'men. When Klamath began to stir, Mara was excused, but only after F'lar repeated his pondering thought on the elasticity of ethics.
As she trotted toward the lake – not even noticing how easy trotting had become over the last few sevendays – Mara wondered if she should have mentioned T'men asking about Brendeen's thoughts. No, she decided, she did not want to cause trouble for T'men, and he was probably still feeling the effects of too much wine last night. But still, should the Weyrleaders be made aware of how too much wine affected a Wingleader?
Klamath's partially awake concern stopped that line of thought. Mara cheerfully took care of her little brown darling along with all the other weyrlings in her class.
After bathing, oiling, partial feeding for some, a lengthy play session and a final feeding, the little dragons settled into their assigned weyrs or quarters for a well-earned night of sound sleep. Weyrlings were given free time for the last candle-mark of the day, but reminded that the next day would involve preparing for and then dealing with Thread. There would be little time for personal needs, so this candle-mark should be used accordingly.
The Istans, and several other weyrlings, decided to use their free time for washing out laundry. The washing troughs in the Living Caverns were typically left unused in the evenings, with weyrlings' schedules partially in mind. A few other riders chose to do their own laundry at the troughs, but most non-riders used their evenings for less labor intensive activities.
B'roghe – who had apparently appointed himself Angalyn's personal bodyguard, mused Mara – and several of his young, admiring followers accompanied the Istans. The handsome young man who could have been a Lord Holder was well accustomed to having even younger people flock around him, what with all his cousins, nieces and nephews, and younger brothers and sisters at Fort Hold, and made even washing laundry an enjoyable endeavor for all involved.
Once they had returned to the weyrling area, B'roghe and his followers joined the Istans for their now ritual pre-bedtime discussion. Mara grew silent as the others tried to agree on a topic for this evening's discussion.
B'roghe, having been aware most of the afternoon that Mara had something on her mind, called a halt to the discussion of their topic of choice. "When's the last time Mara choose a topic?"
Everyone thought hard. Angalyn smiled as she answered. "She always lets us decide. I think it's her turn." Everyone else quickly agreed.
Mara frowned at the bronze weyrling, but quickly realized that maybe these youngsters could actually help with her dilemma, even if they didn't know the details. "All right. Yesterday, in class, we were introduced to dragonrider ethics."
Moans from some of the weyrlings caused Mara to pause. B'roghe's reminder that ethics were an extremely important part of being dragonriders prompted agreement that this would be an acceptable topic.
"We all know from yesterday that ethics tell us how we are and are not supposed to act," began Mara. "But, are there any times when ethics can be overlooked even a little? Can they be stretched in some cases?"
Several weyrlings responded with a 'yes' while several others adamantly declared 'no'. And then Cally said, "Wouldn't that depend on the situation?"
The debate began in earnest. B'roghe smiled at Mara as they both watched and listened, and stepped in to answer direct questions or to redirect potential hard feelings. Far too soon, in everyone's opinion, K'remin called an end to the discussion, declaring it time for glows to be turned.
As visiting weyrlings filed out of the Istan weyr, B'roghe held back and questioned Mara.
"Did you get the answer you were hoping for?"
Mara huffed at the young man. "I got lots more to think about."
"Can I help? Do you want to talk a little more?"
B'roghe's honest concern touched Mara. "I wish I could talk about it." B'roghe's understanding nod was a relief; at least he would not push for any details. "You never answered the question though. That might help."
"Ahh. You caught that. I was more interested in their answers." Mara's attempted patience made him chuckle. "Very well. Can ethics be stretched in certain cases?" He took a deep breath as he studied the anxious woman before him. "If a person blurs the ethical line in one case, why not in others? And if the line should be crossed, how would a person reestablish that line? And how could that person convince others of their ethical behavior if they cross that line even once?"
Mara's jaw fell lax as she listened. When he raised his eyebrows, signaling he was done, she laughed. "You make it sound so simple!"
"It can be that simple . . . sometimes. Sometimes though, it can be very difficult to maintain one's ethical standards. The important questions are: where are your standards, and how blurry is your line between good and bad ethical behavior?"
Mara nodded once, slowly, and then smiled. "Even more to think about, but very helpful. Thank you, B'roghe."
B'roghe bowed slightly. "My pleasure, Mara. Sleep well." He left the Istan weyr wondering just where Brown Rider Mara would draw her lines. Somehow though, he knew he would find out soon enough.
Long after her weyrmates fell asleep, Mara was still reviewing what B'roghe had said. He was interested in others' answers. He didn't say what was absolutely right or wrong; he was just interested in their answers. Did that mean there really wasn't a right or wrong answer? Or did the weyrlings' answers tell B'roghe something he wanted to know about each of them? She reviewed each weyrling's answers again, and quickly realized those answers were closely related to dragon color. The green riders were most adamant that 'it depends', while the blue riders were less adamant but still said 'it depends'. The only other brown weyrling was closer to 'absolutely not', and the other very young – so age wasn't an issue – bronze weyrling was very adamant about the non-stretchiness of ethics in any case.
So, deduced Mara, perhaps the firmness of one's ethical standards said something about a rider's leadership potential? Or maybe just their trustworthiness?
She spent a good deal more time in the dark weyr trying to decide where her lines should be drawn. And wished she could speak to G'raden or T'men – maybe not T'men just yet – in greater depth about dragonrider ethics.
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