“But… but…”
“Firehead is a dangerous disease for an adult,” Sharra said. She glanced at Brekke, who nodded, “You nearly died.”
“I did?” Appalled, Jaxom put his hand to his head.
Brekke nodded again. “So, if we seem to be restricting you to a very slow recovery, you will agree that we have cause.”
“I nearly died?” Jaxom couldn’t absorb that news.
“So we will go slowly to ensure your health. Now, I think it’s time you had something to eat,” Brekke said as she left the room.
“I nearly died?” Jaxom turned to Sharra.
“I’m afraid so.” She sounded more amused by his reaction than concerned. “The important thing is that you didn’t die.” Involuntarily she glanced toward the beach and sighed, a quick exhalation of relief. She smiled, a brief one, but Jaxom noticed that her expressive eyes were dark with remembered sorrow. “Who died of firehead that saddens you, Sharra?”
“No one you know, Jaxom, and no one I knew very well. It’s just … just that no healer likes to lose a patient.”
He could tease no more from her on the subject and stopped trying to when he saw that she had felt that death so keenly.
The next morning, cursing with embarrassment at the unreliability of his legs, Jaxom was assisted to the beach by Brekke and Sharra. Ruth came charging up the sands, almost dangerous in his delight at seeing his friend. Brekke sternly ordered Ruth to stand still lest he knock Jaxom off his unsteady feet. Ruth’s eyes rolled with concern and he crooned with apology as he extended his head very carefully toward Jaxom, almost afraid to muzzle him in greeting. Jaxom flung his arms about his dragon’s neck, Ruth tightening his muscles to take the drag of his friend’s body, almost thrumming with encouragement. Tears flowed down his cheeks which he quickly dried against his friend’s soft hide. Dear Ruth. Marvelous Ruth. Unbidden came the thought to Jaxom’s mind: “If I had died of firehead…”
You did not, Ruth said. You stayed. I told you to. And you are much stronger now. You will get stronger every day and we will swim and sun and it will be good.
Ruth sounded so fierce that Jaxom had to soothe him with words and caresses until Brekke and Sharra insisted that he had better sit down before he fell. They had arranged a matting of woven streamer fronds against a landward-leaning trunk, well back from the shore, to avoid full exposure to the sun. To this couch they assisted him. Ruth stretched out so that his head rested by Jaxom’s side, the jeweled eyes whirling with the lavenders of stress.
F’lar and Lessa arrived at midday, after Jaxom had had a short nap. He was surprised to find that Lessa, for all her abrasiveness on other occasions, made a soothing visitor, quiet and soft-voiced.
“We had to let Lord Groghe come in person, Jaxom, though I’m sure you didn’t appreciate the visit. Rumor had you dead and Ruth, too.” Lessa shrugged expressively. “Bad news needs no harper.”
“Lord Groghe was more interested in where I was than how I was, wasn’t he?” Jaxom asked pointedly.
F’lar nodded and grinned at him. “That is why we had D’ram bring him. The Fort Hold watchdragon is too old to take a placement from Lord Groghe’s mind.”
“He also had his firelizard with him,” Jaxom said.
“Those pesky creatures,” Lessa said, her eyes sparkling with annoyance.
“These same pesky creatures came in very handy saving Jaxom’s life, Lessa,” Brekke said firmly.
“All right, they have uses but, as far as I’m concerned, their bad habits still outweigh the good ones.”
“Lord Groghe’s little queen may be intelligent,” Brekke went on, “but not clever enough to get him back here on his own.”
“That isn’t the real problem,” F’lar grimaced. “He’s now seen that mountain. And the scope of the land.”
“So, we put in our claim here first,” Lessa replied decisively. “I don’t care how many sons Groghe wants to settle, the dragonriders of Pern have first choice.
“Jaxom can help-”
“Jaxom has some time to go before he can do very much of anything,” Brekke said, breaking in so smoothly that Jaxom wondered if he’d misinterpreted the surprise on Lessa’s face.