“To answer you in part, B’lerion is always like that,” she said. “Charming, amusing. But Sh’gall leads men well, and he has an instinct about Fall which his predecessor, old L’mal, considered uncanny.”
“Well, well, B’lerion, I’d never heard that particular narrative.” Capiam was still chuckling as he hoisted himself to his feet. “I suppose harpers must be discreet in circulating their tales.” He extended his hand to Desdra. “Can you remember exactly where you saw those astringent plants, Desdra? I know we’re here for needlethom, but the Hall’s supplies are dreadfully short.”
“We’ll look at the plants but, my dear Master Capiam, you are also going to rest through the heat of the day.” Neither healer looked back as they disappeared up the ravine and around the first bend.
“Well, I suppose that one must allow an older man some rest,” B’lerion said. “Come, Oklina, there’s plenty of shade in our patch of needlethom, and a smart breeze. We shall put our time to the use
intended!”
Smiling affably, B’lerion made a running leap up the ravine, turning only to lend a long arm to Oklina. They disappeared from view, and the thick foliage settled to stillness in the thick noontime heat.
“If he expects me to believe that …” Alessan finished his sentence with a chuckle. Then, taking a deep breath, he pulled Moreta against him and kissed her deeply and sensually, his hand deftly stroking her to arousal. “Come on, Moreta, I’m not chancing another attack by those needlethoms.” He led her from the ravine
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toward the cliff. “What I’d like to understand is why that blue dragon of M’barak’s is sniffing around Oklina. I could understand Nabeth with B’lerion entranced by her, but Aritha … Would it have anything to do with that queen egg on the Hatching Ground as Tuero suggested?”
“It might, but Fort Weyr would not deplete your bloodline by Searching Oklina, Alessan.”
“This will do. Let’s just throw down some ging fronds,” Alessan said, hauling on the nearest at hand. “I won’t have you bruised, either. That would be almost as hard to explain as a sunburn or heat prostration.” Moreta helped him arrange a bower, all her senses suddenly awake, wishing that Orlith, not Nabeth, were on the Istan ledge. “About Oklina, now, since I’ve been reliably informed” Alessan paused to grin at her, his light eyes vividly sparkling with merriment“that she already has dragonrider blood in her… .” Then he turned briefly serious. “If it could be understood that her. children would return to Ruatha, I would not stand in Oklina’s way if she had the chance to Impress a dragon.” He dumped his last handful of frond on the ground with a decisive gesture and pulled Moreta into his arms. “I’m not my father, you know.”
“I wouldn’t be in a rainforest with your father.”
“Why not? He was a lusty man. And I intend to prove that I’m a suitable heir to his reputation!”
She was laughing as he laid her down on the sun-dappled frond bed. And he proved himself as lustyand tenderas any woman could wish a man. For a shining moment at the height of their passion, Moreta forgot everything but Alessan.
The heat of the day did overcome them briefly, and they slumbered in each other’s arms until tiny insects sought the moisture of their bodies and made them uncomfortable enough to wake.
“I’m eaten alive!” Alessan cried, pinning one of the biting insects to his forearm.
“Take some of that broad-leafed vine, the one climbing the tree by your side,” Moreta said. “Bruise its leaves. It’ll neutralize the sting.”
“How d’you know so much?”
“I did Impress at Ista. I know its hazards.”
They spent considerably more time neutralizing one another’s in-sect bites than was necessary. When Alessan, trying to kiss her, got too much of the astringent liquid on his lips and his mouth began to
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pucker, they laughed and were still laughing about that when they returned to the ravine, slightly cooler now that the westering sun no longer shone directly above it.
When the tropical dusk had made work impossible, the six of them gathered on the ledge where Nabeth lounged somnolently and began to stack filled nets.