“I’m glad you think so, but” Norman’s attention was held by something in the road and he pointed at a travel wagon, four runners led from its tailgate. “I’m worried about Kulan’s leaving.”
Even as the men watched, one of the led horses coughed violently.
“I told Kulan he hadn’t ought to be traveling with that runner but he won’t listen to me.”
“How many decamped this morning?” Alessan felt the first stir of real apprehension. If a coughing illness spread through the Hold with the plowing only half completed …
“Some dozen left first light, mainly wagontravelers. Their stock wasn’t pastured near the racers. It’s just that I know Kulan’s one is sick.”
“I’ll speak to him. You find out how many have started home. Tell some of the holders to report to me here as messengers. We’ll retrieve our departed guests. No animals are to leave this Hold until we know what causes that cough.”
“What about people?”
“Since the one usually takes the other, no, no people. And I’ll want to have a word with Master Scand about Vander, too.”
Kulan was not pleased to be halted. The animal only had a mom-ing cough, he asserted, from the dust raised the night before and the change in grass. It’d be fine once it got moving. Kulan was anxious. He had three days’ hard travel before he reached his hold. He’d left his next oldest son in charge and had doubts about the lad’s capabilities. Alessan pointed out firmly that Kulan wouldn’t want to bring an infected beast home to mingle with his healthy stock. Another day to find out what the ailment was would be well worth a delay.
Tolocamp followed, reaching Alessan and his holderman in time to catch the end of the argument. The older Lord’s polite concern became an active anxiety but he held his peace until Kulan and his handlers had turned back to the Gather fields.
“Are such drastic measures necessary? I mean, these people must get back to their holds, as I must return to mine”
“A slight delay, Tolocamp, until we see how the animals fare. Surely you and your good ladies would be glad of a longer visit?”
Tolocamp blinked, surprised by Alessan’s smiling intransigence. “They may stay if they wish but I was about to request you to drum Fort Weyr for a conveyance.”
“As you yourself said a few minutes ago, Tolocamp, this could be
88 Moreta: Dragonlady of Pern
a serious matter. It is. Neither of us can afford to have a sickness run through our stock. Not at this time of the Turn. Of course, we may find that it only affects the racers, but I would fault myself severely if I didn’t take preventive measures now, before the infection can spread from the Hold proper.” Alessan watched Tolocamp’s obvious reflections over the merits of a delay. “Kulan’s one of mine, but I’d take it kindly if you would speak to those of your own Hold who gathered with us. I’m not spreading alarm but four racers dead and more coughing in the picket lines …”
“Well. now …”
“Thank you, Tolocamp. I knew I could count on your cooperation.”
Alessan moved away swiftly before Tolocamp could muster an argument. He made for the kitchens where weary drudges were preparing large pitchers of klah and trays of fruits and sweetbreads. As he had hoped, he found Oklina supervising. From the fatigue apparent on her face, she hadn’t had any sleep.
“Oklina, there’s trouble,” he told her quietly. “Sickness down at the flats. Tell Lady Oma that, until I’m sure what it is and how it can be cured, no one is to leave the Hold. Her powers of persuasion and hospitality are required.”
Oklina’s dark eyes had widened with alarm but she controlled her expression and peremptorily called one of the drudges to task for spilling klah.
“Where’s our brother, Makfar?” Alessan asked. “Asleep above?”
“He’s gone. They left about two hours ago.”
Alessan rubbed his face. Makfar had had two runners in the rac-ing. “When you’ve spoken to Mother, send a messenger after them. The way Makfar travels, they won’t have gone far. Say, say …”