T’bor rose to protest before F’lar could stop him, but D’ram waved him to be seated and sternly reminded T’ron that the Fort Weyrleader had set the time, not F’lar of Benden.

“Look, we’re here now,” T’bor said, banging his fist on the table irritably. “Let’s get on with it. It’s full night in Southern Weyr. I’d like…”

“I conduct the Fort Weyr meetings, Southern,” T’ron said in a loud, firm voice, although the effort of keeping his temper told in the flush of his face and the brightness of his eyes.

“Then conduct it,” T’bor replied. “Tell us why a green rider took his dragon out of your Weyr when she was close to heat.”

“T’reb was not aware she was that close…”

“Nonsense,” T’bor cut in, glaring at T’ron. “You keep telling us how much of a traditionalist you are, and how well trained your riders are. Then don’t tell me a rider as old as T’reb can’t estimate his beast’s condition.”

F’lar began to think he didn’t need an ally like T’bor.

“A green changes color rather noticeably,” G’narish said, with some reluctance, F’lar noted. “Usually a full day before she wants to fly.”

“Not in the spring,” T’ron pointed out quickly. “Not when she’s off her feed from Threadscore. It can happen very quickly. Which it did.” T’ron spoke loudly, as if the volume of his explanation would bear more weight than its logic.

“That is possible,” D’ram admitted slowly, nodding his head up and down before he turned to see what F’lar thought.

“I accept that possibility,” F’lar replied, keeping his voice even. He saw T’bor open his mouth to protest and kicked the man under the table. “However, according to the testimony of Craftmaster Terry, my rider urged T’reb repeatedly to take his dragon away. T’reb persisted in his attempt to—to acquire the belt knife.”

“And you accept the word of a commoner against a rider?” T’ron leaped on F’lar’s statement with a great show of surprised indignation and incredulity.

“What would a Craftmaster,” and F’lar emphasized the title, “gain by bringing false witness?”

“Those smithcrafters are the most notorious misers of Pern,” T’ron replied as if this were a personal insult. “The worst of all the crafts when it comes to parting with an honest tithe.”

“A jeweled belt knife is not a tithe item.”

“What difference does that make, Benden?” T’ron demanded.

F’lar stared back at the Fort Weyrleader. So T’ron was trying to set the blame on Terry! Then he knew that his rider had been at fault. Why couldn’t he just admit it and discipline the rider? F’lar only wanted to see that there’d be no repetitions of such an incident.