Today, a Fort Weyr rider had deliberately—judging from the testimony F’lar had from Terry and the other smithcrafters present—abrogated these two basic restrictions. F’lar experienced no satisfaction that the offending rider came from Fort Weyr even if T’ron, the major critic of Benden Weyr’s relaxed attitudes toward some traditions, was in a very embarrassing position. F’lar might argue that his innovations breached no fundamental Weyr precepts, but the five Oldtime Weyrs categorically dismissed every suggestion originating from Benden Weyr. And T’ron bleated the most about the deplorable manners of modern holders and crafters, so different—so less subservient, F’lar amended—to the acquiescence of holders and crafters in their distant past Turn.

It would be interesting, F’lar mused, to see how T’ron the Traditionalist explained away the actions of his riders, now guilty of far worse offenses against Weyr traditions than anything F’lar had suggested.

Common sense had dictated F’lar’s policy—eight Turns ago—of throwing open Impressions to likely lads from Holds and Crafts; there hadn’t been enough boys of the right age in Benden Weyr to match the number of dragon eggs. If the Oldtimers would throw open the mating flights of their junior queens to bronzes from other Weyrs, they’d soon have clutches as large as the ones at Benden, and undoubtedly queen eggs, too. However, F’lar could appreciate how the Oldtimers felt. The bronze dragons at Benden and Southern Weyr were larger than most Oldtimer bronzes. Consequently, they’d fly the queens. But, by the Shell, F’lar hadn’t suggested that the senior queens be flown openly. He did not intend to challenge the Oldtimer Weyrleaders with modern bronzes. He did feel that they’d profit by new blood among their beasts. Wasn’t an improvement in dragonkind anywhere of benefit to all the Weyrs?

And it was practical diplomacy to invite holders and crafters to Impressions. There wasn’t a man alive in Pern who hadn’t secretly cherished the notion that he might be able to Impress a dragon. That he could be linked for life to the love and sustaining admiration of these gentle great beasts. That he could traverse Pern in a twinkling, astride a dragon. That he would never suffer the loneliness that was the condition of most men—a dragonrider always had his dragon. So, whether the commoners had a relative on the Hatching Ground hoping to attach a dragonet or not, the spectators enjoyed the vicarious thrill of being present, at witnessing this “mysterious rite.” He’d observed that they were also subtly reassured that such dazzling fortune was available to some lucky souls not bred in the Weyrs. And those bound to a Weyr should, F’lar felt, get to know the riders since those riders were responsible for their lives and livelihoods.