A sickness in the land, Orlith replied, sounding puzzled. Sh’gall went first to see K’lon and woke him.
“Woke K’lon?” Moreta was disgusted as she pulled on the first tunic she could reach. The clothing was slightly damp and her sleeping quarters were clammy. The weather must have changed.
There is a fine mist over the Weyr, Orlith obligingly reported.
Moreta shivered as she dressed. “Why on earth should he wake K’lon? The man’s been ill and needs his rest.”
He is convinced that K’lon has brought the illness here. Orlith sounded truly perplexed. K’lon was in Igen.
“K’lon is often in Igen. His friend is a green rider there.”
Moreta splashed water into her face then rubbed the mint stick over her teeth, but it did little to improve the taste in her mouth. She
ran her fingers through her short hair with one hand as she fumbled for a goru pear from the dish in her room. The tart fruit might neutralise the aftereffects of all that Benden wine.
“Moreta!” Sh’gall’s summons resounded from the entrance to her weyr.
Moreta had time to give Orlith’s muzzle a swift caress before Sh’gall burst into the chamber. The queen blinked her eyes shut, feigning sleep. Sh’gall charged ten paces into the weyr and stopped, holding his hand up as if fending off an approach.
“A sickness is all over Pem. Men are dying and nothing can be done. Runners are dying, too. No one must leave the Weyr.”
Sh’gall’s eyes were wide with a genuine fear, and Moreta stared at him in surprise for a moment.
“Thread falls tomorrow, Sh’gall. The dragonriders must leave the Weyr.”
“Don’t come close to me. I may have been infected, too.”
Moreta hadn’t moved. “Suppose you give me some details,” she said, speaking calmly.
“That animal they showed off at Istait was infected with a deadly disease. It’s spread from Igen to Keroon Beasthold to Telgar. It’s even in Southern Boll! Men are dead of it in Lord Ratoshigan’s Hold. And he’s been quarantined by Master Capiam. So are we!”
“Runners, you said?” Moreta’s breath caught in her throat and she turned fearfully toward her dragon. “Dragons?” She’d touched that runner and if she’d contaminated Orlith …
“No, no, not dragons! Capiam said Talpan agreed they weren’t affected. They had the beast killed. It hadn’t looked sick to me!”
“Tell me please how men could die in Southern Boll when that feline was still in Ista?”
“Because there’s an epidemic! It started when the seamen hauled that beast out of the water and brought it home. Everyone wanted to see it, so they took it to Igen Hold, then Keroon Beasthold and Ista before this Talpan fellow realized it was a carrier. Yes, that’s what Capiam said: The feline was a carrier.”
“And they displayed it at Ista Gather?”
“No one knew! Not until this Talpan fellow came along and talked to Capiam. He’d been to all the infected holds.”
“Who? Talpan?”
“No, Capiam! Talpan’s an animal healer.”
64 Moreta: Dragonlady of Pern
“Yes, I know.” Moreta held on to her patience because Sh’gall was obviously so rattled as to be incoherent. “Nothing was mentioned of this at Ruatha Gather.”
Sh’gall gave her a patient glare. “Of course, the truth wasn’t known. Besides, who talks of unpleasant things at a Gather! But I just conveyed Capiam to his hall. I also had to convey Ratoshigan and Capiam to Southern Boll because Ratoshigan received an urgent drum message to return. He had deaths. He also had new runners in from Keroon; they probably brought that sickness to the west.” Sh’gall glowered and then shuddered violently. “Capiam said that if I didn’t touch the feline I might not get sick. I can’t get sick. I’m the Weyrleader.” He shuddered again.
Moreta looked at him apprehensively. His hair was damp, pressed in a wet ridge about his forehead by his riding helmet. His lips were slightly blue and his skin very pale. “You don’t look well.”
“I’m fine! I’m fine. I bathed in the Ice Lake. Capiam said that the disease is like Thread. Cold kills Thread and so does water.”
Moreta took up her fur cloak, which lay where it had fallen from her shoulders a scant two hours before, and approached him with it.