“According to my sources, then,” Verilan said, “it seems that as things stand, Benden flies in seven Falls, Telgar in six, Ista in five, while the High Reaches and Fort Weyrs fly four Falls.”

“Then Benden should have more dragons,” Tullea said.

“I’d prefer to see how things work out, first,” B’nik said, glancing reprovingly at his Weyrwoman. “There was a reason our ancestors established six Weyrs.”

“Six Weyrs,” Tullea said, “and Benden’s had to take a higher proportion of the Falls that used to be flown by Igen.”

“I don’t think we can hope to reestablish Igen until we’ve solved the current problem,” Sonia said with a nod toward Tullea. “But if you run into troubles, we’ll provide you with aid.”

“Benden will fly its own Falls, thank you.”

“That’s really for me to decide,” B’nik told her. He glanced around the room. “Still, I think for coordination, it’s always best to assume that the assigned Weyr will handle a Fall unless prior arrangements are made.”

The dragonriders all nodded in agreement.

“We’ve got an answer for you,” Bekka called from outside the pavilion.

“By all means, please tell us,” Verilan said, his voice a mix of somber gravity and resignation.

“From what I can figure,” Terin’s voice piped up from outside the canvas, “and Bekka has checked me, the Weyrs must lose less than two dragons every Fall if they’re to maintain their strength for two Turns.”

“There hasn’t been a Fall yet where a Weyr hasn’t lost at least three,” Verilan said. He cocked his head toward the outside group, demanding, “Is that losses or casualties?”

“Casualties,” Terin responded after several tense moments of whispered conversation between her and the others.

“The injured come back,” Bekka said.

“That doesn’t help if every dragon and rider is injured,” Fiona pointed out.

“Oh!” Bekka said in surprise. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

“Can you work out how long the Weyrs have until they have less than a Flight of fighting dragons?” Sonia asked.

“We’ll work on it, Weyrwoman,” Verilan said, rising from his chair and adding, “I think it best if I go supervise.”

The Weyrwoman waved a hand in agreement.

“I don’t see how we have any other choice but to do better,” D’vin said in the silence that followed.

“Perhaps timing will help,” M’tal said hopefully. He pursed his lips tightly for a long thoughtful moment, then rose from his chair, bowing toward Fiona and nodding at H’nez.

“Weyrwoman,” he said, “I think it best if we take our leave of you. I have many preparations to make and”—he nodded toward H’nez again—“I’m certain that you will want as much training time as possible between now and your next Fall.”

The others rose, too, and the meeting adjourned.