“No, it can’t, nor can Fort Hold!” Paulin was on his feet and pacing. If that’s what he calls Hold management, he has to be removed.”
“My thinking, too,” M’shall agreed, running agitated hands through his hair again. “Another night like last and those people be dead of exposure and starvation. Bridgely concurs with me that something has to be done, now, today. And it’s getting towards a cold night now, there. I’ve come to you for Council authority since Bridgely says we’d better do this as properly as possible.”
He paused, bitter. “Such a situation is not supposed to happen. Those people aren’t defying him. They’re just scared to death and desperate for security, which obviously they don’t expect to find in Bitra.” He hitched himself forward in the chair. “Thing is, Paulin, if we hand out supplies, what’s to keep the border guards from just collecting them the moment we take off? So, I think I’ll have to leave a couple of riders as protection… which’ll give Chalkin a chance to cry ‘Weyr Interference’.”
Paulin felt nauseous. That sort of thing was straight out of the ancient bloody history the settlers had deliberately left behind: evolving a code of ethics and conduct that would make such events improbable! This planet was settled with the idea that there was room enough for everyone willing to work the land that was his or hers by Charter-given birthright.
“There’s no interference if your riders stay on your side of the border. Besides which, Bitra Hold looks to Benden Weyr for protection.”
“Thread protection,” M’shall corrected.
“In a matter of speaking,” and Paulin’s smile was grim, “this is partly Thread protection. They’re looking for what they should have had from their Lord Holder, and who else should they turn to but the Weyr? No,” and he brought one fist down sharply on the desk. “You’re within your rights - - if you’ve riders willing to volunteer for such duty.”
“L’sur’s stayed on, or so his dragon told Craigath.”
“But no firestone,” and Paulin held up a stern finger, “much as some might like to show force.”
“Oh, I’ve made myself clear on that point, I assure you,” and M’shall gave a bitter twist to his lips. “And we haven’t had any training at Benden recently, so there’s not a whisper of flame in any of the dragons. As for disciplining the guards, a short hop and a long drop between would be my preference, but…” and he held up both his hands to assure Paulin of self-restraint.
At that point, Mattew returned with a tray, steaming cups of klah and soup and a basket of hot breads which he deposited on the table and left.
M’shall didn’t wait for Paulin’s invitation but grabbed up the soup and blew on its surface, sipping as soon as he dared.
“That hits the spot and if you’ve a cauldron of it, I’ll take it back with me.” He grinned, licking his lips. “It’s certainly hot enough to survive a jump between.”
“You may have it, cauldron and all.”
“L’sur has stayed on, you say? How about riders at other crossing points?” Paulin asked, stirring sweetener into his klah. M’shall nodded.
“Good. Their presence ought to inhibit any further violence.”
“But that presence was only a deterrent, not assistance. He would like to do more than send soup but his position at this point, even as Council Chair, might be compromised. At least the Weyr has a right to take action, and so does Bridgely,” he added thoughtfully. He thumped his fist again. But I will go personally to see both Jamson and Azury; especially since Chalkin has used such extreme measures. I’m hard-pressed to see the reason for them.”
M’shall shrugged. “Fort holders have every reason to trust you, Paulin. Bitrans never have had any with Chalkin holding.”
“What I’d like to do is haul the indecisive like Jamson and Azury - and show them what’s happening at Bitra. They probably think we’ve exaggerated the situation.”
“Exaggerated?” M’shall was indignant, and it was as well the cup was empty of soup when he planted it hard on the table. “Sorry. What’s wrong with them?”
“They wouldn’t behave in such a manner. lt’s hard for them to believe another Lord Holder would.”
“Well,” and M’shall nearly growled, “he would and he has.”
There was a more circumspect knock on the door which Matt opened, showing in K’vin.
“I just heard about the border trouble, M’shall. Zulaya had Meranath bespeak Maruth, so Charanth and I thought to catch you here,” the young Weyrleader said, his expression as grim as Benden’s.
“So he’s blocked the western borders as well?” K’vin nodded.
“Telgar has no grounds to object to his closing his borders, but he’s deliberately killing people, turfing them out in this weather. I can’t, and won’t permit people to be treated like that.” He fixed an expectant stare on Paulin.
“M’shall and I have been discussing the intolerable situation. I’ve already polled the Lord Holders with a view to taking immediate action. The response was not unanimous so even as Council Chair, there is little I can do - officially, that is. But, as M’shall pointed out, the Weyr has certain responsibilities to protect people. By stretching a point, you could say they’re Thread-lost,” and Paulin’s smile was wry, “escaping a Hold which is unprepared. So the Weyrs can move where the Council Chair may not.”
“That’s all I need to know!” K’vin slapped his riding gloves against his thigh to emphasize his approval.
“Of course,” and Paulin held up one hand in restraint, “you must be careful not to give Chalkin due cause to cite an infringement against Hold autonomy.”
“Not if that includes deliberate mistreatment of people he’s already misled,” said K’vin, his voice rising in alarm.
“This is not the time to jeopardize the neutrality of the Weyrs, you know,” Paulin said, looking from one to the other. “Thread hasn’t started falling yet.”
“C’mon, Paulin,” M’shall began in protest.
“I’m with you in spirit, but as Council Chair I have to remind you - above and beyond my private opinion, that we don’t have the right to interfere in the government of a Hold.”
“You may not, Paulin,” K’vin said. “But M’shall and I do. There’s truth in what you said about Weyrs protecting people from peril.
“From Threadfall.” Paulin reminded the younger Weyrleader.
“From peril,” K’vin repeated firmly. “Freezing to death without shelter from inclement weather constitutes peril as surely as Threadfall does.”
Paulin nodded approvingly. “I may even forget that you visited here this morning.” He grinned. “M’shall, you don’t happen to know where Chalkin’s remaining uncle lives?”
“I already thought of that and he’s not there,” replied M'shall. “Place was empty. Too empty. I know Vergerin was alive and well last autumn.”
“How do you mean ‘too empty’?” Paulin asked, jotting down the uncle’s name.
“It had been cleaned out too thoroughly. Not,” and M’shall held up one hand to forestall Paulin’s query, “as if it had been set to rights after a man’s death, but as if to prove no-one had been there at all.
“But Vergerin had cleared vegetation back from his front court, as every smart holder should.”
“Someone had thrown debris all around to disguise the clearance.”
“Has Chalkin anticipated us?” Paulin asked in a rhetorical question.
Then he looked from one dragon rider to the other.
“Rescue those folks before either the weather or Chalkin’s bullies kill them. And I’d like interviews from them, too, once they’re not afraid to talk to outsiders.” Just as M’shall had his hand on the door knob, Paulin added, “And not so much as a trickle of flame, please. That could get magnified out of all proportion.”