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right wing under her, nailing the air with the left.
"Holth is no more," Rogeth told K'lon.
"Holth dead? And Moreta?" K'lon could barely comprehend that statement and
frantically tried to deny the corollary even as he watched its effect on the
stricken queen.
"Leri!"
"Oh, no!"
K'lon whirled. Leri lay against the cushions, gasping, her mouth working, her
eyes protruding. One hand was pressed to her chest, the other clawed at her
throat. K'lon leaped toward her.
"She cannot breathe."
"Are you choking?" K'lon asked, horror mounting as he scanned her contorted
face. "Are you trying to die?" K'lon was so appalled at the thought of Leri
expiring before his eyes that he grabbed at her shoulders and shook her
violently. The action forced breath back into her lungs. With a thin wail more
piteous than Orlith's shattering cries, Leri went limp in his arms, her body
wracked with sobs.
"Hold her." Rogeth's voice was curiously augmented.
"Why?" K'lon cried, suddenly aware that in his selfish panic, he had thwarted
Leri. If Holth was dead, she had the right to die, too. His heart swelled with
a crippling ache of compassion, anguish and remorse. "How?" he demanded,
unable to comprehend what terrible circumstance could have robbed
Orlith of Moreta and Leri of Holth.
"They were too tired. They ought not to have continued so long. They went
between ... to nothing," the composite voice replied in the sad conclusion
perceived by all the dragons in the Weyr.
"Oh, what have I done?" Tears streamed down K'lon's face as he rocked the
frail body of the old Weyrwoman in his arms. "Oh, Leri, I'm so sorry.
Forgive me. I'm so sorry. Rogeth! Help me! What have I done?"
"What was necessary," the augmented Rogeth spoke in a tone ineffably sad.
"Orlith needs her to stay."
Now the air was filled with the lamentations of the Weyr's dragons as they
joined Orlith's dreadful keen. Sound battered the Hatching Ground, echoing
wildly in the great stony cavern. As K'lon rocked Leri, the dragons were
respectfully gathering at the entrances to the Ground. They lowered their
great heads, their eyes dulled to gray as they shared the grief of a dragon
who was unable to follow her rider in death, held to the Ground by the clutch
of hardening eggs.
People had edged past the guardian dragons now, pausing briefly in deference
to Orlith. Then K'lon recognized S'peren and F'neldril, closely followed by
the other queen riders and Jallora. Kamiana turned with a peremptory gesture
to the weyrfolk to remain at the entrance. But Jallora hurried to the steps,
sliding to the blue rider. The healer murmured tenderly to Leri, stroking her
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hair, before she took the weeping woman from K'lon's arms.
"She wanted to die," K'lon stammered, lifting his empty hands in mute apology
to Kamiana. "She nearly did."
"We know." Kamiana's face was wretched.
"Pour some wine, Kamiana," Jallora said, rocking Leri as K'lon had. He was
obscurely relieved that he had, at least, done that right. "Use plenty of
fellis juice. From that brown vial. Pour a cup for K'lon, too."
"We could all use some," Lidora muttered as she helped Kamiana.
But when Jallora held the cup to Leri's lips, the Weyrwoman pressed them
tightly closed over her sobs and turned her head away.
"Drink, Leri." Jallora's tone was deep with compassion.
"You must, Leri," Kamiana insisted, her voice breaking. "You're all
Orlith has."
The rebuke in Leri's pained eyes was more than K'lon could stand and he buried
his head in his hands, shaking with reaction. F'neldril laid a gentle arm
across his shoulders to support him.
"Dear Leri, L'mal would expect it of you. I implore you. Drink the wine.
It will help." S'peren's voice was hoarse.
"Oh, brave Leri, courageous Leri," Jallora murmured in approval and
K'lon looked up as the old Weyrwoman accepted the wine.
Lidora pressed a cup into his hand. It must be half fellis juice, he thought
as he recklessly downed the draught. Not that it would do any good.
Not all the wine in Pern could assuage the pain and remorse in his heart. He
willed the potion to numb his senses but he couldn't stop weeping. Even
F'neldril's seamed face was tear-stained as he stroked S'peren's shoulder in
comfort.
"Let's get her up to her weyr," Jallora said, motioning for S'peren and
F'neldril to assist her.
"No!" Leri's response was vehement. Orlith screamed in echoing protest.
"No," said the voices and K'lon caught S'peren's arm. "I'll stay." Leri
pointed toward Orlith. "I'll stay here."
"Will she?" Jallora asked the other queen riders, meaning the dragon.
"Orlith will stay," Kamiana said in a barely audible voice while Leri slowly
nodded affirmation. "She will stay until the eggs are ready to hatch."
"Then we'll both go," Leri added softly. Her words would forever remain in his
mind, K'lon knew, as indelible as the rest of the terrible scene.
S'peren and F'neldril stood beside him, drooping in grief, their faces
suddenly aged. Haura and Lidora clung to each other weeping, while Kamiana
stood to one side, her figure taut. Beyond them, the arched entrances to the
Hatching Ground framed the press of dragons, all gray in sorrow, and the
silent cluster of weyrfolk bewildered by the grievous loss. Just then there
was a stir and three riders slowly moved onto the Ground, Sh'gall escorted by
S'ligar and K'dren. Sh'gall continued forward alone, his body bowed with
grief. He fell to his knees, covering his face with his hands, unseen by the
inconsolable Orlith who writhed in the soul-rending agony of separation from
her beloved rider, Moreta.
AFTERMATH
Present Pass, 4.23.43
The occasion of a Hatching ought to be a joyous one, Master Capiam thought
without a single buoyant fiber in his body as he watched the dragons glide to
the knots of passengers awaiting conveyance to Fort Weyr.
He had not attended to what Tirone had been saying to him. Then the
Masterharper's parting phrase penetrated his gloomy reflections.
"I will be singing my new ballad, composed in celebration of Moreta!"
"Celebration?" Capiam roared. Desdra caught his arm and prevented him from
being trampled on by Rogeth. "Celebration indeed? Has Tirone gone mad?"
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"Oh, Capiam!" Desdra's soft exclamation was unusually gentle for that caustic
lady, newly made a Masterhealer. Capiam glanced quickly about to see why. Then
he saw K'lon's grief-stricken face as the rider dismounted.
"Leri and Orlith went before dawn," K'lon said, his voice breaking. "No one
could, would have stopped them. But we had to watch, to be with them.
That's all we could do!" K'lon's tear-filled eyes begged for solace.
Desdra folded her arms around him, and Capiam stroked his back, offering the
blue rider a kerchief that he needed himself in that instant. Desdra didn't
weep but her face was flushed, her jaw muscles tight, and her nose very red.
"They only stayed because of the eggs, to be sure of the day. But we had to
see them go." K'lon sobbed.
Wondering if he should administer a restorative, Capiam caught Desdra's eye,
but she gave a little shake of her head.
"They were so brave. So gallant! It was dreadful, knowing they would go.
Dreadful knowing that one day we would wake up and they would be gone! Just
like Moreta and Holth!"
"They could have gone that day ..." Capiam began, knowing that wasn't the
thing to say, struggling to find something to ease K'lon's grief.
"Orlith could not have gone till the eggs were hard," Desdra said. "Leri
stayed with her. They had a purpose and now it is accomplished. Today must
also be a glad day, for dragons will hatch. Surely that is a good day for
going. A day that had begun in unmeasured grief will end in great joy. A new
beginning for twenty-five, no, fifty, lives, for the young people who Impress
today begin a new life!"
Capiam stared in wonder at Desdra. He could never have expressed it so well. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]