Wingleaders and wingseconds began to arrive, to report the readiness of their wings to Sh’gall. They prudently observed his isolation.
The three queen riders arrived together and sought Moreta. She signaled a weyriing to serve the women and replenish her klah. Kamiana, a few Turns younger than Moreta, was her usual imperturbable self, her short dark hair spiky from the bath, her tanned face smooth. Lidora, who had flown enough Thread not to be unduly anxious, was clearly upset about something, but she had recently changed her weynnate and her moods were often changeable. Haura, the youngest, was never at her best before Threadfall, but she always settled down once the queens’ wing went into action.
“He’s taking no risks, is he?” Kamiana said after noting Sh’gall’s segregation.
“He did convey Capiam from Ista to Southern and Fort Hold.”
“How’s Berchar?”
“Still feverish.” Moreta’s gesture intimated that this was only to be expected.
“Hope there’s no serious injuries.” Kamiana aimed that remark at Haura, who was a capable if unenthusiastic nurse.
Moreta: Dragonlady of Pern 115
“Holth will fly lead,” Moreta said, reproving Kamiana with a glance. “She’s valiant in that position and we can all keep an eye on her. Haura and you fly as wing backs. Lidora and I will do the upper level. Nabol and Crom may not be cursed with fog”
“Has a sweeprider gone out?”
“Sh’gall’s less likely to fly blind than any other Weyrleader I’ve known,” Moreta told Lidora dryly.
The weyriing returned with the porridge and klah, and served the Weyrwoman. Dragonriders began to arrive in groups, making their way to the breakfast hearth and then drifting to tables. The wingseconds moved about, checking their riders, giving instructions. All in a normal, perfectly routine fashion, despite Sh’gall, until the sweeprider came in.
“The High Reaches rider says it’s all clear to the coast,” A’dan announced in a cheerfully loud voice, peeling back his headgear as he strode to the hearth.
“The High Reaches rider says!” Sh’gall demanded. “You spoke to him?”
“Of course.” A’dan turned round to the Weyrleader in surprise. “How else could I know? We met at”
“Were you not told yesterday” Sh’gall, appearing to enlarge with anger, rose. He glared at Moreta with piercingly accusative eyes. “Were you not told yesterday that contact with anyone was forbidden?”
“Riders aren’t anyone”
“Other riders! Anyone! We must keep this disease from reaching Fort Weyr and that means staying away from everyone. Today, dur-ing Pall, no rider of this Weyr is to approach any holder, any rider from High Reaches. Give any necessary orders adragonback, preferably on the wing. Touch no one and nothing belonging to anyone outside this Weyr. Have I made my orders perfectly clear this time?” He ended his outburst with another searing look at Moreta.
“What does Sh’gall think he can do to offenders?” Kamiana asked in an undertone meant for Moreta’s ears alone.
Moreta gestured peremptorily for Kamiana’s silence. Sh’gall had not finished speaking.
“Now,” he went on in a stentorian but less forbidding tone that no one in the Lower Cavern could ignore. “We’ve Thread Falling today! Only dragons and their riders can keep Pem Threadfree. That is why
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Moreta: Dragonlady of Pern
Moreta: Dragonlady of Pem
117
we live apart, in Weyrs, why we must keep apart, preserving our health. Remember! Only dragonriders can keep Pem Threadfree. We must all be equal to that task!”
“He really is rousing us for Fall, isn’t he?” Lidora said, leaning toward Moreta. “How long does he mean to keep us’cooped up here?” Irritation colored her voice and sent a flush to her cheeks.
Moreta gave the dark woman a long measuring look, and Lidora caught at her lower lip.
“Aggravating to be sure, Lidora, but few Gather loves are ever caught for long.” She had accurately guessed the source of Lidora’s discontent and wondered who had caught the weyrwoman’s fancy at Ruatha Gather. Moreta looked away, with apparent unconcern, but she thought again of Alessan and how much she’d enjoyed his company. She’d been showing off a bit, rushing to the runnerbeast’s aid, trying to catch his attention.
The scuffling ofbootheels and bench legs on stone roused her from her momentary lapse. She rose hastily. Custom dictated that she receive last-minute instructions concerning the queens’ wing from Sh’gall. She stopped a few feet from the dais before he looked toward her, his expression warning her to keep her distance.