The elderly greenrider unceremoniously pulled out a chair, and sat down at the Weyrleaders' table.

"Now..." the Weyrleader began.

"Don't you 'now' me, young man! I've wiped your arse, blown your snotty nose and solved half your problems ever since. You sit and listen! So, the Holders are slipping back into their old ways. And you're surprised? I thought I taught you better. They need a reminder. No, a spectacle. Games! Show 'em what the Weyr can do, and keep those skills alive as well."

The Weyrleader looked thoughtful. "Spring games... Debera, you might be right."

"Of course I am!"