Not, Moreta thought, with a bloody nasal discharge.
“Here now,” a loud voice cried. “What’s the matter here? Why isn’t this animal … Oh, Lord Alessan. Didn’t know you were here!” The race manager had pushed his way into the circle. “It’s dead? Excuse me. Lord Alessan, but we do have to clear the track for the next race.”
Alessan took the shaken Helly by the arm. Moreta stepped to the man’s other side, leading him through the pathway courteously made by the crowd.
“I don’t understand it. No, I don’t.” Helly was obviously in shock.
Moreta realized that she still had the wine goblet and held it up to Alessan, who quickly unslung the wineskin and poured a full cup. Moreta gave it to Helly. The racer drank the contents in one gulp.
“Helly, what happened? Did it plait its legs or something?”
The stocky man, dressed in Ruathan colors, staggered as he realized who was assisting Helly. While trying to hold a pad of wet toweling to his forehead, he also attempted to bow to Alessan and Moreta. And staggered again.
“Helly, what happened? Oh, shards!” The last was said in a low voice as a cart bearing the dead animal off the track rumbled into view.
“Vander, are you all right?” Helly demanded. He handed Moreta her goblet and went to the stunned holder. Helly supported Vander in the wake of the cart.
Moreta, Alessan by her side, watched the activity of Gather races swirl and close behind the sad procession. Men, laden with tack or blankets or buckets of water, briskly moved toward the picket lines. The sound of urgent conversations and shouts was occasionally punctuated by the squeal of excited runners.
“I cannot remember a respiratory illness that would result in such a remarkably swift death,” Moreta said.
“I’d’ve said the animal was only stunned by the fall and would
26
Moreta: Dragonlady of Pern
have gotten it to its feet,” Alessan remarked. “How did you know what ailed it so fast?”
“My family has always raised runners,” she explained quickly, for it was not common knowledge outside the Weyrs that she and Orlith worked together in healing. ‘
“Your early training must have been remarkable. I thought I’d learned a thing or two about runners.”
“If you bred that sprinter while looking for endurance stock, you
have.”
Just then two runners, long-distance racers by the look of them, were led past, and Moreta kept her eyes on them until they mixed into the crowd.
“Nothing wrong with them, is there?”
“Oh, no. They look racing fit. Not so much as a nervous sweat on them.”
“Has it been crossing your mind that Vander’s runner dropped dead of an illness?”
“It crossed my mind,” Moreta agreed, “but it’s highly unlikely. Helly said the runner wanted to race. A sick one wouldn’t. Could have been the heart.”
“Well, I’m not looking for trouble. Not today, at my first Gather.” Alessan frowned and turned slowly on his right heel, casting his eyes down the rows of picketed runners. “It has to be a fluke. I know Vander. His hold’s a good day’s ride south. He’s been saving that particular runner for this race.” Alessan sighed. “We can have a look at the rest of his string. They’d be picketed over here if I recall the assignments.” Alessan took Moreta’s arm, guiding her to the right.
If the beast had been fit, Moreta thought, how could its lungs have filled so quickly? She considered asking Orlith but she sensed that the queen had returned to sleep. Runners did not have the same priority with the dragon as they did with the rider.
Alessan pulled Moreta to him suddenly as a rangy beast plunged past them, its eyes wild as it anticipated its race, the rider barely able to stay in the pad. Two handlers jogged along, at a distance respectful of the kicking range of an excited runner. Moreta watched its progress to the starting line.
“Well?” Alcssan’s tenor voice asked in her ear.
She was abruptly aware that she was still in his loose protective embrace.
Moreta: Dragonlady of Pern 27
“No, that one seemed far from ill.” She moved away from him.