CHAPTER X
Fort Weyr and Ruatha Hold, Present Pass,
3.16.43
WHEN MORETA WOKE, she felt Orlith’s joyful presence in her mind.
You are better. The worst is over!
“I’m better?” Moreta was annoyed by the quaver in her voice, too much a remnant of the terrible lassitude that had enervated her the day before.
You are much better. Today you will get stronger every minute. “How much of that is wishful thinking, my love?” Even as Moreta spoke in her usual affectionate way, she realized that Orlith would know. During Moreta’s illness, the queen had been as close in her mind as if the dragon had changed mental residence. Orlith had shared every moment of Moreta’s discomfort, as if, by sharing, the dragon could diminish the effects of the plague on her rider. They, who had been partners in so much, had achieved a new peak of awareness, the one in the other. Orlith had dampened the pain of the fierce headache, she had eased the stress of fever and depressed the hard, racking cough. All she could do was comfort Moreta during the fourth day of physical and mental exhaustion. But by then the dragon queen had every right to rejoice.
176
Moreta: Dragonlady of Pern
Holth says there is other good news! Master Capiam has a serum which prevents the plague.
“Prevents it? Can he cure it?” Moreta had not been so detached in the course of her illness that she had not known that others in Port had sickenedor that dragons and riders had died in other Weyrs. She was aware as well that two Fort Weyr wings had risen the day before to meet the Fall on Igen’s behalf. That Berchar and Tellani’s new babe had died. She knew as well that the epidemic had extended its insidious grip on the continent. It was time and enough for the healers to have found some specific means to control it. The plague has a name. It is an ancient disease. “What name do they give it then?” / can’t remember, Oriith said apologetically. Moreta sighed. Naming was a dragon failing. Yet Oriith remembered quite a few, Moreta thought fondly. Holth asks are you hungry yet?
“My greetings to our good Holth and our gracious Leri, and I think I am hungry,” Moreta said with some surprise. For four days any thought of food had caused nausea. Thirst she had suffered, as well as the hard throat-searing cough, and a weakness so deep she feared at moments that she would never shake it. That was when Oriith had been closest to her mind. Had there been space enough, the queen would have forced her swollen body into Moreta’s quarters to be physically near.
“How’s Sh’gall?” Moreta inquired. She had been feverishly ill by morning when Kadith had mournfully roused Oriith and Holth with the news of his rider’s collapse. He is weak. He doesn’t feel at all well.
Moreta grinned. Orlith’s tone was tinged with scom as if the queen felt her own rider had been more valiant.
“Do remember, Oriith, that Sh’gall has never been ill. This must come as a terrible shock to his self-esteem.” Oriith said nothing.
“What news from Ruatha Hold? You’d better tell me,” Moreta added when she felt Orlith’s resistance.
Leri comes. Relief marked Orlith’s manner. She knows. “Leri comes here?” Moreta tried to sit up, but gasped at the dizziness the sudden movement occasioned. She lay where she had
Moreta: Dragonlady of Pern 177
flopped as she listened to the approach of shuffling steps and the tap of Leri’s cane. “Leri, you shouldn’t”
“Why not?” Leri projected her voice from the larger weyr. “Good morning, Oriith. I’m one of the brave. I’ve lived my life so I’m not afraid of this ‘viral influence,’ as the Healers have styled it.” Leri pushed back the bright door curtain, peering brightly at the younger woman. “Ah, thereyou have color in your face today.” A covered pot and the thong of a flask swung from her left hand. Two more containers had been stuck in her belt to allow her to use her right hand for her stick. As Leri entered the room, Moreta noticed that the old woman’s gait seemed more fluid. She deposited her oddments on the chest that was now drawn to Moreta’s bedside and then allowed herself to drop onto the space by Moreta’s feet. “There now!” she said with great satisfaction, tucking her gnarled stick beside her. “Yes, you should do very well.”