This is a subject I've pondered before - as a woman approaches menopause so her gold dragon would probably become less fertile as well - but what would happen if the queen rider wasn't very fertile in herself?
1.3 - 1.4.199
The long silence in the record room was broken only by Jiverny's suppressed sobs. The others around the table seemed unable to formulate any speech at all. They all jumped when someone rapped on the door and entered, and the Lord Holder Jamas came in.
"Secret conferences, Masterhealer, Weyrleader? Why is my daughter upset? Eh?"
"Sit down, my lord," Perera said, and although his voice was quiet, Lord Jamas sat down and put an arm around his daughter, glaring at the others.
"I was dozing, and suddenly I had this dream of all of you, and it wasn't at all a nice dream! I asked where you were, and I was told you'd come here without anyone else. What's going on, Masterhealer?"
"You may remember, Lord Holder, that I have been working on the question of moving fosterlings around the various Holds in the last ten Turns?"
"I can't keep any fosterlings here to overpopulate the Island," he replied at once. "It isn't done. Never been done. Can't be done."
"It must be done," Perera said forcefully. "You must do it, or risk your line going either extinct or descending into inbred imbecility."
Lord Jamas stared at him in astonishment and anger, and Lady Iveris pushed over the notes she had made of the family tree. He studied it and then looked at the Masterhealer.
"You're saying we've gone wrong, that we've read the situation wrong?"
"Yes, my lord, that is what I'm saying."
"How does it affect my daughter? She isn't married to her own cousin! In fact I'd go so far as to say that the Weyrleaders she's been with are as far removed from her bloodline as it's possible to get! I don't know about that R'tin fellow, but H'ric here is a miner's boy from Crom! No offence meant, Weyrleader."
"And none taken, my lord, because as you know and appreciate from your daughter's situation, once a rider has Impressed a dragon, there is no further talk of their origins."
"Sensible practice and I approve it. So why is my daughter crying?"
Perera glanced at the others for permission and outlined his theory. Lord Jamas frowned at him as Jiverny stopped crying and dried her eyes, and took a sip of fruit juice, H'ric still holding her other hand.
"Let me understand this. My daughter may be infertile - one child in all her child-bearing years, and that one was a danger to her, she wrote and told us? Perhaps she isn't built to bear children, Masterhealer, some women aren't, hips too narrow, body too small, things like that. It happens. And then there's the question of the right partner."
"Yes, I have considered all of that, my lord. I still contend her infertility affects her dragon."
Lord Jamas looked at H'ric.
"A hundred or so dragons hatched in the three Turns since you took over, they tell me? A decent return, given the Weyr is underpopulated. If the Pass happens, you'll need more. Is that the problem? Someone else should provide the dragons?"
"Historically, my lord, the senior gold provides the majority of the eggs, when mated by the Weyrleader's bronze," H'ric said carefully. "There are four junior golds at Benden able to produce eggs, and three immature golds that will not mate for three or four Turns perhaps."
Lord Jamas tapped his fingers on the table in the rhythm of the song Grance has provided. Frowning, he looked at the notes of his own line, and he was evidently thinking about H'ric's statement.
"The senior gold dragon belongs to the Weyrwoman, who in effect controls the Weyr," he said at last. "Let's think of this as if it were a Hold. I'm the Lord Holder, I have a Lady Holder and my children should inherit if all goes well. But I have other major Holders on the Island, and they seem to breed like wherries. The situation is the same at your Weyr. You and my daughter hold the highest office. Provided you don't stand down, either of you, you'll continue to do so lifelong. If your dragon's clutches are inferior, daughter, that doesn't mean the Weyr is in danger of going extinct! After all, all those golds you speak of are the daughters of your gold, are they not? They have to be, in this Interval, because we only have one Weyr."
"But if my gold can't produce a significant number of eggs, father, should I stand down and let one of the junior gold riders try to be Weyrwoman?"
"Whyever would you do that?" he asked in astonishment. "Haven't you been listening to me, daughter? So long as your senior gold is flown and mated, you remain Weyrwoman. The size of the clutch is immaterial to that fact, as is, pardon my bluntness, H'ric, the person of the Weyrleader. No, no, I see no problem here at all. I appreciate your research, Masterhealer, and I'll act on it in my Hold, and I'll hope that it doesn't impact on the Weyr's strength during the coming Pass. Good red meat, and plenty of it, daughter, that's what will make your dragon rise! Make sure you get a goodly tithe of those herds Keroon produces."
Jiverny flung her arms around him and he patted her back awkwardly, looking somehow embarrassed but proud. H'ric took a long breath he had not been aware he had been holding, and Perera folded up his notes.
"I felt I had to bring this out into the open, Weyrleader," he said.
"And I'm pleased you have, Masterhealer, because it will give us pointers in the Weyr as well as a lever to the Lord Holders, to send riders out on Search. We have a large population in the Weyr and a lot of them aren't related, but of course every dragonrider would like his son to follow him and Impress a dragon. Sending out on Search, as well as gathering in the most Impressionable candidates, widens our bloodlines significantly."
"And not every Candidate will Impress," Lady Iveris put in. "I asked the question when Jiverny Impressed - what happens to those other ten girls. I was told they would stand again if another gold was hatched, but that there would be a place in the Weyr for them if they wanted to stay. I have to say - I think most of them did?"
Jiverny had straightened herself and mastered her emotions, and now nodded at her mother.
"They did stay. Two Impressed at later clutches, but the others are valued members of the Weyr, and have their own families now, and some of their sons will be dragonriders. Searching brings in the people most suited to the Weyr, and gives the dragons a better choice."
"Sensible," Lord Jamas said as he stood up. "Well, I'm glad to have had your advice, Masterhealer, and I'll make sure it's written down, as I know you'd want it, and not just put into a song. I know your aversion to singing our history, but it's the best choice we have at this time - until someone sits down and actually works out an imperishable surface like the very earliest records were written on - I doubt if we have the means to manufacture that."
"You could hew it into stone, my lord, and not find me objecting," Perera said acidly as he also stood up and bowed to the others. "I am sorry for causing you distress, Weyrwoman, Weyrleader, but I felt it had to be said."
"And we have the knowledge now," H'ric said with a smile he did not feel. "I'll make sure Sharama has the records updated."
Lady Iveris nodded.
"That would be good. And you'll be away back to those northern wastelands very shortly, I don't doubt! I've some presents of cloth and pretties for you, daughter, we'll go and choose them - and some little things for that grandson of mine."
H'ric watched them all leave, and sat staring at the mess of scrolls and hides, his own researches. With a violent gesture, he swept it all to the floor, and crumpled his notes and threw them into a corner.
"And how dare you leave us with no knowledge at all, to muddle on, to get ourselves into the kind of mess that must be making the first settlers spin in their graves!" he screamed into the silence of the room.