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"Nabeth won't mind. He's an old friend of mine, too."
With a mutter of mock discontent, Alessan cracked the mud to produce a long slender tuber, then Moreta broke one open to prize out the fish, and they shared bits of the contents, keeping the second course warm.
"What a clever fellow you are," Capiam said, his mouth half full. He and Desdra had arranged themselves in the curve of Nabeth's tail. Desdra nodded agreement, too busy licking her fingers to speak.
"I have a few talents," B'lerion said with a becoming show of modesty. "Eating is one of my few bad habits. Fruit is all very well in the heat of the day but something warm soothes the belly before sleep . . ."
"Sleep!" Capiam and Moreta protested simultaneously. B'lerion held up a restraining hand. "Sleep"-he pointed his finger sternly at Moreta-"for you have to mend dragons after Fall in another four hours. You can't do that effectively after the day you just put in." He flipped his hand toward the carry-nets lying in the shadows. "You, Alessan, will have to vaccinate and escort those priceless brood mares and foals of yours down from the meadows. I do not see you permitting anyone else to head that expedition. Desdra and Capiam, you will be returning to the pressures of expanding this vaccination program of yours to include ru
"Orlith's fine, my dear girl. Fine! You're only going to be gone an hour in real time. And frankly, dear friend, you look dead right now!" B'lerion leaned over to ruffle her hair in a proprietary gesture that made Alessan tense beside her. Moreta quickly checked him with a hand on his thigh. "And anyway," B'lerion continued affably, "you've no choice, Moreta." And his grin widened with keen amusement. "You can't leave here except on Nabeth and he follows my orders."
"You're a managing soul," Capiam said without rancor. "He's sensible," Desdra said, making a minor correction. "I was dreading the thought of being plunged back into all that must be done. Not to mention explaining these." She examined her scratched hands.
"If you keep everyone as busy as you usually do, Desdra," Capiam replied at his dryest, "no one will have time to notice."
"So just make yourself comfortable beside Nabeth. He won't mind being pillow as well as windscreen, but there's enough cover on the ground to keep you from scratching yourselves and the landward breeze will keep the midges off."
B'lerion then had Nabeth stretch out his neck so that he and Oklina could settle themselves. Capiam and Desdra arranged themselves in the tail curve so Moreta lay down against Nabeth's ribs and gestured for Alessan to join her.
"He won't roll over or anything?" Alessan whispered to Moreta as he lay down.
"Not while B'lerion's lying on his neck!"
So Alessan fitted himself against Moreta, drawing her arms around his waist and clasping them in his. She could feel his breath slow as he began to relax, and she pillowed her forehead against his strong shoulder blade.
The tropical night was warm and fragrant. Moreta tried to compose herself for sleep. She could hear Capiam's baritone murmur and then silence. Alessan slept and she wanted to but was haunted by the sense of disorientation she had left that morning. Then the spicy smell of dragon, still tainted by a hint of firestone, began to soothe her and she realized that-for the first time in twenty Turns-she had passed a day without Orlith. She did miss her. Orlith would have liked Alessan's exuberant loving. All that had been missing from that experience had been the dragon's share of her rider's gratification. Comforted, Moreta slept.
The moment Nabeth burst into the air above Ruatha, Moreta felt Orlith's distressed touch.
You are there! You are there! Where have you been?
Where could you have been? That deep-toned question was from an equally distraught Holth.
To Ista. As Nabeth told you.
We could not find you there! That came from both queens.
I am here. I have what we went for. All is well! I won't be long here now.
The time distortion that accounted for the strange feeling of separation and disorientation lingering even in her dreams at Ista had dissipated the moment Moreta felt Orlith's touch. She was not only rested but extraordinarily revived, to the point that the warm sphere of euphoria in her belly expanded to fill her entire body with strength. B'lerion had been sensible indeed to insist they take time for rest.
Seated behind Moreta, Alessan became suddenly tense, his hands tightening about her waist fiercely. She knew he was swearing though the wind of Nabeth's glide obscured the words. She looked down at sad Ruatha and knew that a dragonback perspective of the ruins could not fail to distress him. When she managed to twist to speak to him, his expression was full of urgent determination.
As soon as Nabeth came to a graceful landing across the roadway from the beasthold, he turned to Oklina. "Surely some of the convalescents must be strong enough to do maintenance, Oklina. Did you have a good look at the Hold proper? It's a shambles. Here, Moreta, I'll give you a hand." Alessan slid down Nabeth's side and extended his hands to her. It was, Moreta quickly realized, an excuse to hold her, and he kept one arm loosely about her shoulders as they backed far enough away from the dragon's bulk for Alessan to address the other riders. "I'll continue making the serum, Master Capiam, and wait for any further instructions. Oklina, have you seen what I mean? Then I'll help you down. My duty to you, Nabeth, and my eternal gratitude." Alessan bowed formally to the bronze dragon, who winked at him from eyes that whirled pleasantly green-blue.
"He says his duty was a pleasure," B'lerion replied, smiling as he handed Oklina down to his dragon's raised forearm. He waited until she was clear and then waved cheerily as Nabeth sprang aloft again.
They had made most of their farewells at Ista when Belior rose, round and greenly gold in the dark Istan sky. B'lerion would convey the two healers to their hall with the needlethorns. If more should be needed, B'lerion would harvest it discreetly at Nerat with Oklina and Desdra. Capiam had composed messages for the Masterherdsman and all the holds that bred or kept ru
The dust of Nabeth's departure was blowing away from them when Tuero came out of the beasthold, a look of surprise on his homely face.
"That didn't take you long," he said. "Alessan, we can't make up another batch unless M'barak finds more glass bottles. I don't know what's taking him so long."
The three travelers recoiled in a group, but before Tuero could comment on their reaction, Arith and M'barak hurtled across the fields to land almost exactly in the spot Nabeth had just occupied. Moreta clung to Alessan's hand for support.
"Who's he got with him?" Tuero demanded. As the blue dragon settled, it was obvious he bore three passengers as well as the carrynets.
"Moreta!" M'barak called, gesturing to her urgently. "Hurry up. I need help with these silly bottles and I've people here who say they can handle ru
So Alessan, Tuero, Oklina, and Moreta rushed to unburden Arith of passengers and ornamental apprentice-blown glass bottles. Then Alessan gave Moreta a leg up to Arith's back and if his hands lingered on her ankle as she settled herself, no one remarked on the Lord Holder's behavior. As Moreta looked down at Alessan's upturned face, she wished she might give him more than a smile in farewell. Then he stepped back and one of the newcomers touched his arm. The woman was tall and thin, with dark hair as closecropped as a weyrwoman's. She reminded Moreta of someone. Then they were airborne, and M'barak warned her that they'd go between as soon as Arith had air space.