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Follen." He gave his beast an exultant swat on the rear to impel it into its
stall. "How could I have been so dense?"
"You have had a few other problems on your mind, you know!"
"Man! You've revived me!" Alessan gave the lean harper a clout on the
shoulder, grinning in the first respite from grim reality that he had enjoyed
since Oklina had recovered. "And to think I hesitated about sending you."
"You may have, I didn't," Tuero said impudently, scooping up his saddlebags
and following Alessan's quick lead to the Hold Hall.
They found Follen quickly enough, in the main Hall tending the sick.
Alessan felt his nostrils pinch against the odors that the incense could not
mask. He avoided the Hall whenever possible, the coughing, the rasping
breaths, and the moans of the patients were a constant reminder of the sad
hospitality he had offered. Follen's anxious expression cleared when Tuero
raised the saddlebags. When the men had converged into the Hold office Follen
now occupied, his hopefulness waned as he examined the bags and twists of
herbs. Alessan had to repeat his question about vaccinating runners.
"The premise is sound enough, Lord Alessan, but I'm not conversant with animal
medicines. The Masterherdsman ... oh, yes, well, I forgot. But there must be
someone at Keroon Beasthold who could give you a considered opinion."
Tuero sighed with disappointment. "It's too late now to drum across to
Keroon. They wouldn't thank us for rousing them from their beds."
"There is someone else, much closer, who would know," Alessan said in a
thoughtful voice. "And Follen, is there any human vaccine left? Enough for two
people?"
"I can, of course, prepare some."
"Please do while Tuero and I drum up Fort Weyr. Moreta will know if we can
vaccinate runners." Then he added to himself, I can bring Dag back and see
what he managed to save.
Moreta was startled when the request came in to the Weyr drummer. The
quarantine no longer applied. Alessan had specifically mentioned that he had
been vaccinated and was healthy. She had no reason to deny a meeting and more
than a few to grant it, curiosity about why the Lord Holder of Ruatha would
urgently require a meeting being the least of them. Orlith was not a broody
queen and quite happy to have people admire her clutch, particularly the queen
egg, though she kept it always within reach of a forearm. Once she indulged in
her post clutch feeding, she had piled the other eggs in a protective circle
about the unique one.
"As if anyone would rob your clutch," Moreta teased her affectionately.
She had told Orlith all about her early-morning visit to High Reaches and
received a serene absolution for her errand of mercy.
"Leri was here. Holth was with you. Fair exchange in those conditions. I
slept."
Moreta slept for a while after her return from the High Reaches, waking
nervously almost as if she had expected another summons. She would have
preferred to stay at Tamianth's side until she was certain that the ichor was
flowing to the wing, but Pressen had learned of the dangers and was able to
perform necessary countermeasures. Further, as Tamianth strengthened and Falga
recovered from wound fever, another crisis was less likely to develop.
So Moreta ascribed her nagging sense of apprehension to the tensions of a long
day and sent M'barak, Leri's favorite weyrling rider, to Ruatha Hold.
K'lon told Leri and Moreta how appalled he had been by Ruatha. Moreta did not
like to dwell on the scenes of a derelict Ruatha that her active imagination
could conjure. What could she say in condolence to a man who had suffered so
many losses?
Suddenly Alessan, dressed in rough leathers but a clean shirt showing at the
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neck, stood to one side of the entrance to the Hatching Ground. Beside him was
a lanky man in a faded, patched tunic of harper blue. M'barak was grinning at
their hesitation and waved them toward the portion of the tiers that Moreta
had converted to a temporary living space. Orlith was awake and watched them
enter, but displayed no agitation.
Moreta rose, one hand raised in unconscious protest against the change in
Alessan. Too vividly she recalled the assured, handsome, buoyant young man who
had greeted her at Ruatha's Gather eight days before. He had lost weight and
his tunic was belted tightly to take up the slack. His hair no longer
looked trimmed or brushed. She wondered why that detail should matter so much
to her. The stains on his hands, witness of his efforts to plow and plant,
were honorable ones, as was the redwort on hers. She grieved, too, for the
lines of worry and tension in his face, the cynical slant to his mouth, and
the wary expression in his light green eyes.
"This is Tuero, Moreta, who has been invaluable to me over the ... since the
Gather." After the slight pause, Alessan's voice deepened as if to ward off
comment. "He has a theory against which I can raise no objections, but, as we
cannot reach an authority at this hour in Keroon Beasthold, I thought you
might give us an opinion."
"What is it?" Moreta asked, put off by his diffidence. The change in him went
far deeper than appearance.
"Tuero," Alessan gave the harper a slight bow of acknowledgment, "wondered if
a vaccine could be made from the blood of runnerbeasts to protect them from
the plague."
"Of course it can! You mean it hasn't been done?" Moreta was consumed by such
a surge of fury and frustration that Orlith rose to all four legs from her
semirecumbent position, her eyes whirling pinkly, and a worried question
rumbled from her throat.
"No." In the one word, Alessan mirrored her own intense reaction.
"No one thought of doing it, or there hasn't been the time?" she demanded,
sick at the thought of more loss, animal or human. The grim set of
Alessan's mouth and the harper's sigh gave the answer. "I would have thought
that, " She broke off the angry sentence, closing her eyes and clenching her
fists. She recalled the heavy losses at Keroon Beasthold, the emptiness of her
family's runnerhold.
"There have been other priorities," Alessan said. He spoke without bitterness
but from a resignation to harsh fact.
"Yes, of course." She pulled her wits back from useless conjecture.
"Have you any healers?"
"Several."
"Runnerblood would produce the same serum by the same method, centrifugal
separation. More blood can be drawn from runners, of course, and the vaccine
should be administered in proportion to body weight. The heavier, "
Alessan cocked his left eyebrow just enough for her to realize that there were
no more of the heavier beasts at Ruatha.
"Would you have any spare needlethorns?" Alessan asked, breaking the silence.
"Yes." At that moment Moreta would have given Alessan anything he needed to
alleviate his problems. "And whatever else is needed by Ruatha."
"We've been promised a supply train from Fort," Tuero said, "but until we can
assure the wagoners that man and animal in Ruatha are plague-free, no one will
venture near the Hold."
Moreta assimilated that information with a slow nod of her head, her
eyes on Alessan. They might be discussing something completely foreign to him
to judge by his detachment. How else could he have survived his losses?
"M'barak, please take Lord Alessan and Journeyman Tuero to the storeroom. They
may have anything they need from our supplies."
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M'barak's eyes widened.
"I'll be right with you," Alessan told Tuero and M'barak, who left him.
Alessan swung down the pack he carried. "I did not come," he said with a wry
smile, "in expectation of bounty. I can, however, return your gown." He took
out the carefully folded gold and brown dress and presented it to her with a
courteous bow.
She managed to take it from him but her hands trembled. She thought of the
racing, the dancing, her joy in a Gather as one should be, her delight in the [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl exclamation.htw.pl
Follen." He gave his beast an exultant swat on the rear to impel it into its
stall. "How could I have been so dense?"
"You have had a few other problems on your mind, you know!"
"Man! You've revived me!" Alessan gave the lean harper a clout on the
shoulder, grinning in the first respite from grim reality that he had enjoyed
since Oklina had recovered. "And to think I hesitated about sending you."
"You may have, I didn't," Tuero said impudently, scooping up his saddlebags
and following Alessan's quick lead to the Hold Hall.
They found Follen quickly enough, in the main Hall tending the sick.
Alessan felt his nostrils pinch against the odors that the incense could not
mask. He avoided the Hall whenever possible, the coughing, the rasping
breaths, and the moans of the patients were a constant reminder of the sad
hospitality he had offered. Follen's anxious expression cleared when Tuero
raised the saddlebags. When the men had converged into the Hold office Follen
now occupied, his hopefulness waned as he examined the bags and twists of
herbs. Alessan had to repeat his question about vaccinating runners.
"The premise is sound enough, Lord Alessan, but I'm not conversant with animal
medicines. The Masterherdsman ... oh, yes, well, I forgot. But there must be
someone at Keroon Beasthold who could give you a considered opinion."
Tuero sighed with disappointment. "It's too late now to drum across to
Keroon. They wouldn't thank us for rousing them from their beds."
"There is someone else, much closer, who would know," Alessan said in a
thoughtful voice. "And Follen, is there any human vaccine left? Enough for two
people?"
"I can, of course, prepare some."
"Please do while Tuero and I drum up Fort Weyr. Moreta will know if we can
vaccinate runners." Then he added to himself, I can bring Dag back and see
what he managed to save.
Moreta was startled when the request came in to the Weyr drummer. The
quarantine no longer applied. Alessan had specifically mentioned that he had
been vaccinated and was healthy. She had no reason to deny a meeting and more
than a few to grant it, curiosity about why the Lord Holder of Ruatha would
urgently require a meeting being the least of them. Orlith was not a broody
queen and quite happy to have people admire her clutch, particularly the queen
egg, though she kept it always within reach of a forearm. Once she indulged in
her post clutch feeding, she had piled the other eggs in a protective circle
about the unique one.
"As if anyone would rob your clutch," Moreta teased her affectionately.
She had told Orlith all about her early-morning visit to High Reaches and
received a serene absolution for her errand of mercy.
"Leri was here. Holth was with you. Fair exchange in those conditions. I
slept."
Moreta slept for a while after her return from the High Reaches, waking
nervously almost as if she had expected another summons. She would have
preferred to stay at Tamianth's side until she was certain that the ichor was
flowing to the wing, but Pressen had learned of the dangers and was able to
perform necessary countermeasures. Further, as Tamianth strengthened and Falga
recovered from wound fever, another crisis was less likely to develop.
So Moreta ascribed her nagging sense of apprehension to the tensions of a long
day and sent M'barak, Leri's favorite weyrling rider, to Ruatha Hold.
K'lon told Leri and Moreta how appalled he had been by Ruatha. Moreta did not
like to dwell on the scenes of a derelict Ruatha that her active imagination
could conjure. What could she say in condolence to a man who had suffered so
many losses?
Suddenly Alessan, dressed in rough leathers but a clean shirt showing at the
Page 129
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
neck, stood to one side of the entrance to the Hatching Ground. Beside him was
a lanky man in a faded, patched tunic of harper blue. M'barak was grinning at
their hesitation and waved them toward the portion of the tiers that Moreta
had converted to a temporary living space. Orlith was awake and watched them
enter, but displayed no agitation.
Moreta rose, one hand raised in unconscious protest against the change in
Alessan. Too vividly she recalled the assured, handsome, buoyant young man who
had greeted her at Ruatha's Gather eight days before. He had lost weight and
his tunic was belted tightly to take up the slack. His hair no longer
looked trimmed or brushed. She wondered why that detail should matter so much
to her. The stains on his hands, witness of his efforts to plow and plant,
were honorable ones, as was the redwort on hers. She grieved, too, for the
lines of worry and tension in his face, the cynical slant to his mouth, and
the wary expression in his light green eyes.
"This is Tuero, Moreta, who has been invaluable to me over the ... since the
Gather." After the slight pause, Alessan's voice deepened as if to ward off
comment. "He has a theory against which I can raise no objections, but, as we
cannot reach an authority at this hour in Keroon Beasthold, I thought you
might give us an opinion."
"What is it?" Moreta asked, put off by his diffidence. The change in him went
far deeper than appearance.
"Tuero," Alessan gave the harper a slight bow of acknowledgment, "wondered if
a vaccine could be made from the blood of runnerbeasts to protect them from
the plague."
"Of course it can! You mean it hasn't been done?" Moreta was consumed by such
a surge of fury and frustration that Orlith rose to all four legs from her
semirecumbent position, her eyes whirling pinkly, and a worried question
rumbled from her throat.
"No." In the one word, Alessan mirrored her own intense reaction.
"No one thought of doing it, or there hasn't been the time?" she demanded,
sick at the thought of more loss, animal or human. The grim set of
Alessan's mouth and the harper's sigh gave the answer. "I would have thought
that, " She broke off the angry sentence, closing her eyes and clenching her
fists. She recalled the heavy losses at Keroon Beasthold, the emptiness of her
family's runnerhold.
"There have been other priorities," Alessan said. He spoke without bitterness
but from a resignation to harsh fact.
"Yes, of course." She pulled her wits back from useless conjecture.
"Have you any healers?"
"Several."
"Runnerblood would produce the same serum by the same method, centrifugal
separation. More blood can be drawn from runners, of course, and the vaccine
should be administered in proportion to body weight. The heavier, "
Alessan cocked his left eyebrow just enough for her to realize that there were
no more of the heavier beasts at Ruatha.
"Would you have any spare needlethorns?" Alessan asked, breaking the silence.
"Yes." At that moment Moreta would have given Alessan anything he needed to
alleviate his problems. "And whatever else is needed by Ruatha."
"We've been promised a supply train from Fort," Tuero said, "but until we can
assure the wagoners that man and animal in Ruatha are plague-free, no one will
venture near the Hold."
Moreta assimilated that information with a slow nod of her head, her
eyes on Alessan. They might be discussing something completely foreign to him
to judge by his detachment. How else could he have survived his losses?
"M'barak, please take Lord Alessan and Journeyman Tuero to the storeroom. They
may have anything they need from our supplies."
Page 130
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
M'barak's eyes widened.
"I'll be right with you," Alessan told Tuero and M'barak, who left him.
Alessan swung down the pack he carried. "I did not come," he said with a wry
smile, "in expectation of bounty. I can, however, return your gown." He took
out the carefully folded gold and brown dress and presented it to her with a
courteous bow.
She managed to take it from him but her hands trembled. She thought of the
racing, the dancing, her joy in a Gather as one should be, her delight in the [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]