“Lord Alessan, do not distress yourself so needlessly! If you had not held the Gather festivities here, the entire Hold could have been destroyed. You were able to prevent the plague’s spread. All Ruathan drumholds have reported in. There are a few deaths reported and some cases of the plague, but you did what had to be done, and did it well!”
Alessan turned abruptly from the window. “You must bear to
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Lord Tolocamp my most profound condolences for the loss of Lady Pendra and her daughters. They nursed the sick until they were themselves overcome. They were valiant.” Alessan’s message was no less sincere for the abruptness of its tone.
K’lon acknowledged the message with a sharp inclination of his head. He was not the only one who would forever fault Lord Tolocamp for running from Ruatha. There were those who held the opinion that Tolocamp had been eminently correct to put the welfare of his Hold above that of his Lady and his daughters. Lord Tolocamp had remained secure in his apartment at Fort Hold while Ruatha suffered and died. Tolocamp would be spared the disease since he had vehemently insisted on being vaccinated despite the priorities set by the Weyrwomen and Master Capiam.
“I will convey your condolences. All the supplies we brought,” K’lon found himself explaining, “came from Benden or Nerat Holds.”
Alessan’s eyes sparkled briefly, and he looked at K’lon as if he were seeing the blue rider for the first time.
“Good of you to tell me that. My profound gratitude for the generosity of Lord Shadder and Lord Gram.” The view from his win-dow again drew Alessan’s glance. His obsession was beginning to perturb K’lon.
“I must go.” the blue rider said. “There is so much to be done.”
“There is! Thank you for answering the drums … and for your reassurances, K’lon. My duty to Rogeth who brought you.” Alessan held out his hand.
K’lon crossed the room to take it in both of his. He was almost afraid to return the pressure on the strengthless fingers but he smiled as warmly as he could, thinking that if Ruatha was proud of dragonrider bloodties, he was as proud to be part of it. Perhaps some of his blood had been in that serum batch. K’lon fervently hoped so.
He quit the apartment as fast as was polite, for he did not wish to give way to the emotions that possessed him. K’lon hurried down the dark corridorthey must put up glowbasketsinto the Main Hall, where two Benden volunteers were cleaning up. Their homey noises were a welcome relief from the preternatural stillness that had shrouded the Hall on their arrival. He told them about the need for glowbaskets and asked them to remove the Gather banners as soon as possible. He could hear Rogeth bellowing outside.
188 Moreta: Dragonlady of Pern
This place is most distressing, the blue dragon said piteously. It is the most distressing place we have been. How much longer must we stay?
K’lon gave the Bendenites warm thanks and then rushed out to the forecourt. Rogeth half ran, half flew up the ramp to meet K’lon, his eyes wheeling in distress.
This place distresses you, too. Can we not see Granth and A ‘murry now? The “now” was accompanied by an unhappy snort.
“We can leave now.” K’lon swung up to Rogeth’s back, his gaze inadvertently falling on the dreadful field with its ruined shelters, the race flats, and the burial mounds. Were they what drew Lord Alessan’s eyes? Or the handful of runnerbeasts grazing in the far field? The rumble of the dead cart, a recalcitrant pair of herdbeasts between the shafts, startled K’lon.
“Get us out of here,” he told Rogeth, sick to the soul of plague and death and desolation. “I must spend some time with A’murry. Then I’ll be able to face this sort of thing.”
K’lon was overwhelmed with longing for his gentle friend, for the respite of companionship. He should go right back to the Healer Hall. There was so much to be done. Instead he projected for Rogeth the sun-dappled heights oflgen Weyr, the bright sparkle of the Weyr lake. Rogeth leaped gladly from the ramp into the air and took him between.