CHAPTER IX
Healer Hall, Present Pass, 3.13.43; Butte Meeting and Fort Weyr, 3.14.43; Healer Hall, 3.15.43
CAPIAM COULD NOT remain asleep, though he tried to burrow back into the crazy fever-dreams as a more acceptable alternative to the miseries total awareness brought. Something impinged on his semiconsciousness and forced him awake. Something he had to do? Yes, something he had to do. He blinked bleary, crusted eyes until he could focus on the timepiece. Nine of the clock. “Oh, it’s me. Time for my medicine.”
A healer couldn’t even be sick without responding to his professional habits. He hauled himself up on one elbow to reach for the skin on which he was recording his progress through the disease but a coughing spasm interrupted him. The cough seemed to throw tiny knives at his throat. Such spasms were exceedingly painful, and Capiam disliked them even more than the headache, the fever, and the boneache.
Cautiously, lest he provoke another coughing fit, he dragged the note case onto his bed and fumbled for the writing tool.
“Only the third day?” His illness seemed to have made each twenty-four hours an eternity of minor miseries. That day was merci-fully three quarters done.
He could take little comfort in noticing that his fever had abated,
144 Moreta: Dragonlady of Pern
that the headache was a dullness that could be endured. He placed the fingers of his right hand lightly on the arterial pulse in the left wrist. Still faster than normal, but slowing. He made an appropriate notation and added a description of the hardy, dry, unproductive cough. As if the note was the cue, he was wracked with’another fit that tore at his throat and upper chest like a tunnel snake. He was forced to lie in a fetal position, knees up to his chin to relieve the muscle spasms that accompanied the cough. When it had passed, he lay back, sweating and exhausted. He roused enough to take his dose of willow salic.
He must prescribe a cough remedy for himself. What would be the most effective suppressant? He touched his painful throat. What must the lining of his throat resemble?
“This is most humiliating,” he told himself, his voice hoarse. He vowed to be far more sympathetic to the afflicted in the future.
The drum tower began to throb and the message stunned him for condolences were being transmitted from Lord Tolocampwhat was he doing in Fort Hold when he should have remained at Ruatha?to the Weyrieaders of Telgar and Igen for the deaths of … Capiam writhed on the bed, convulsed by coughing that left him weak and panting. He missed the names of the dead riders. Dead riders! Pem could ill afford to lose any of its dragonriders.
Why, oh why hadn’t he been called in earlier? Surely nine people in the same Sea Hold falling sick was an unusual enough occurrence to have warranted even a courtesy report to the main Healer Hall? Would he have appreciated the significance?
“Capiam?” Desdra’s query was low enough not to have aroused him had he been asleep.
“I’m awake, Desdra.” His voice was a hoarse caw.
“You heard the drums?”
“Part of the message”
“The wrong part from the sound of you.”
“Don’t come any closer! How many riders died?”
“The toll is now fifteen at Igen, two at Ista, and eight at Telgar.”
Capiam could think of nothing to say.
“How many are ill, then?” His voice faltered.
“They report recoveries,” Desdra said in a crisper voice. “Nineteen at Telgar, fourteen at Igen, five at Ista, two at Fort are all convalescing.”
Moreta: Dragonlady of Pem 145
“And at Hall and Hold?” He dreaded her answer, clenching his fists to bear the staggering totals.
“Fortine has taken charge, Boranda and Tirone are assisting.” The finality in her tone told Capiam he would not elicit any further information.
“Why are you in my room?” he demanded testily. “You know”
“I know that you have reached the coughing stage and I have prepared a soothing syrup.”
“How do you know what I would prescribe for my condition?”
“The fool who treats himself has only a fool for a patient.”
Capiam wanted to laugh at her impudence, but the attempt turned into one of the hideously painful, long coughs and, by the time it had passed, tears rolled down his cheeks.