parched throat.
“By the Egg, she’d drink barrels!” said the bemused voice of an older man. “She mustn’t have too much at once, boys, so take your time with the refills. Anything else I can do” The Weyrlingmaster ducked carefully under the wing and stared in surprise at Moreta. “I thought your queen had clutched, Moreta.”
“She has, but this one would have died …”
When Moreta pointed to the ichor-stained puddle on the floor, the disapproval in the Weyrlingmaster’s face turned to shock.
“S’ligar’s down with a touch of the plague, despite the vaccine,” Cr’not said. “But”he gestured impotently toward Pressen, at the sound of Diona’s voice thanking the weyrlings“I could hear Falga calling for water …”
Moreta: Dragonlady of Pern 217
“It’s no one’s fault, Cr’not. Everyone’s tired, pushed beyond their strength or trying to take on unfamiliar tasks. / should have examined this wound two days ago!”
“Sometimes I think it’s only the momentum of routine that keeps any of us going,” Cr’not said, rubbing at his face and eyes.
“You could be right. There. That’s the last! Thank you, Pressen. You’ve the makings of a good Weyr healer!”
“Once I get accustomed to such large patients!” Pressen smiled back at Moreta.
“And you’re about to leam another invaluable technique for healing dragons,” Moreta said, beckoning to Pressen to follow her. She took the largest syringe from Barly’s kit, fitted a needlethom to its opening, soaked a pad quickly in redwort and then ducked under Tamianth’s wing. “Dionaf”
“Oh, no,” Diona moaned timorously, spreading her arms to protect her queen. “Tamianth’s looking ever so much better. Her color’s improved enormously.”
“I should hope so, but, if we don’t get some ichor on her joints, she may never fly again. Holth, tell Kilanath!”
Cr’not moved toward the weyrwoman, his expression ferocious, and Diona moaned again.
“It doesn’t take long, and it won’t hurt Kilanath.”
The queen was a good deal more cooperative than her rider, dipping her wing as she knelt for Moreta’s ministration.
“Pressen, see? Here, where the vein crosses the bone?” As Pressen nodded, Moreta rubbed on some redwort, turning the golden skin brown. The fine sharp needlethom entered hide and vein so smoothly that the dragon never felt the prick. Moreta deftly drew ichor into the tube: It glistened green and healthy in the glowlight.
“Most interesting,” Pressen said, his expression intent. Neither of them paid any attention to Diona’s moaning or Cr’not’s exclamation of disgust.
“Now we will apply this”Moreta returned to Tamianth, Pressen right beside her“to the joints and the cartilage. See how dry the cartilage is? Soaks the ichor right up. Well, ah, here, nearest the shoulder, see how the beads are forming? Tamianth’s beginning to function again. We’ll save that wing yet!” She grinned at the little
218 Moreta: Dragonlady of Pern
man whose face beamed back at her. “And color’s returning to Tamianth’s eyes, too.”
“Why, so there is! Is she winking at me?”
Moreta chuckled. The gray had certainly receded from Tamianth’s huge eyes and the ‘winking’ was just the sparkle returning to the facets as the dragon improved. “I believe so. She knows who’s helped her.”
“And Falga is sleeping.” Pressen hurried to the cot, feeling the pulse along Falga’s neck. He sighed with relief. “She’s much quieter now.”
Holth? Moreta asked, aware of other obligations.
They sleep! Holth was unperturbed.
“I must get back to Fort. Cr’not, will you keep checking on the wing for me? Pressen knows how to draw ichor and where to put it but not when. You would.”
“I will!” Cr’not nodded solemnly. “Now, you ought not to leave your queen,” he added, shaking his head worriedly.
“There is a point at which ought has little to do with actions, Cr’not. I was sent fori I came! Now I’m going!” She gave him a curt nod. Weyrlingmasters were a breed of their own and felt they could criticize with impunity anyone in a Weyr. As she collected her riding gear, she gave Pressen a saucy wink and then strode out of the building.
She ran to the stairs and took the steps two at a time.
They sleep, Holth repeated, her eyes whirling serenely.