Would they never stop? He'd no idea that the drums were so infernally loud. Why had he never noticed them before? The Healers really deserved their own quiet precinct. He was forced to add his hands to his ears to obtain some relief from the throbbing. Then he remembered the messages that he had left to be relayed to all the major Halls and Holds. Had they taken so long to send them? It must be midday! Didn't the drum master realize how important a quarantine was? Or had some snide little apprentice mislaid the messages to allow time for his own sleep?
The ache in his skull was like nothing Capiam could remember. Intolerable. And his heartbeat had speeded up to the drum tempo. Highly unusual! Capiam lay in the bed, his head painfully resounding and his heart doing its own peculiar unsyncopated palpitation.
Mercifully the drums ceased presently, but neither his head nor his heart took any notice. Rolling to his side, Capiam attempted to sit up. He must have relief from this headache. Swinging his feet to the floor, he levered his body up. A groan of agony was forced from him as he managed to sit upright. The pain in his head intensified as he staggered to his cupboard.
Fellis juice. A few drops. That would do the trick. It never failed him. He measured the dose, blinking to clear his blurred vision, then splashed water into the cup and swallowed the mixture. He wove back to his bed, unable to remain perpendicular. He was panting from the slight effort and realized that not only had the frantic beat of his heart increased, but he was sweating profusely from a simple few steps across his own room.
He had had too much experience with sleepless nights and tight schedules to chalk up his condition to such things. He groaned again. He didn't have time to be sick. He ought not to have contracted the damnable disease. Healers didn't get sick. Besides, he'd been so careful to wash thoroughly in redwort solution after examining each patient.
Why didn't the fellis juice work? He couldn't think with the headache. But he had to think. There was so much to be done. His notes to organize, to analyze the course of the disease and the probability of dangerous secondary infections, like pneumonia and other respiratory infections. But how could he work when he couldn't hold his eyes open? Groaning again at the injustice of his situation, he pressed his hands to his temples and then to his hot, moist forehead. Shards! He was burning up with fever.
He was aware that someone else was in the room before he heard the slight sound of entry. «Don't come near me,» he said urgently, holding up one hand abruptly and uttering another cry of pain when his injudicious movement increased the ache in his head.
«I won't.»
«Desdra!» An exaggerated breath escaped his lips.
«I had an apprentice posted at your door to listen for sounds, but I wouldn't let anyone disturb you until you'd slept yourself out.» Her calm unexcitable voice reassured him. «You've caught this fever of yours?»
«There's an ironic justice in that, you know.» Capiam's sense of humor seldom left him.
«There would be if you weren't the most sought-after man on Pern.»
«The quarantine isn't popular?»
«You might say so. Drum tower's been besieged. Fortine's been coping."'
«My notes are in my pack. Give them to Fortine. He's much better at organizing than diagnosing. He'll have all I've discovered about this epidemic.» Desdra glided across the floor and took the Healer's note case from the pack. She flipped it open.
«Which isn't much,»
«No, but I'll soon understand it all much better.»
«Nothing like personal experience. What do you need?»
«Nothing! No, not nothing. I'll want water, any fresh juice,»
«You cut off our supplies with that quarantine.»
«Then water will suffice. No one is to enter this room, and.you are not to come farther than the door. Anything I ask for must be left on the table.»
«I am quite prepared to stay in here with you.»
He shook his head and regretted the motion. «No. I'd rather be by myself.»
«Suffer in silence.»
«Don't mock, woman. This disease is highly contagious. Has anyone else in Hall or Hold contracted it?»
«As of a half-hour ago, no.»
«It's now?» Capiam was simply unable to see the timepiece.
«Late afternoon. Four.»
«Anyone who was at either Gather and returns here,»
«Which is forbidden by your drum message.»
«Some wise-ass will think he knows better … Anyone who comes is to be isolated for four days. Two seem to be the usual incubation period, judging by the best reports,»
«And your good self.»
«Experience teaches. I don't know yet how long someone stays infectious so we must be doubly wary. I shall keep notes on my symptoms and progress. They will be here … in case …»
«My, we are being dramatic.»
«You've always maintained that I'd die of something I couldn't cure.»
«Don't talk like that, Capiam!» Desdra sounded more angry than fearful. «Master Fortine has apprentices and journeymen at the Records round the clock.»
«I know. I heard their snores last night.»
«So Master Fortine surmised when no one could tell him your time of return. Unfortunately Master Fortine must have only just retired himself for he didn't get back to his desk until noon. He will want to see you.»
«He's not to come in here.»
«He'll doubtless prefer not to.»
Why wasn't the fellis juice taking effect? The palpitations of his heart were dramatic! «Tell Fortine, will you, Desdra, that sweatroot has no effect and provides no relief. In fact, I think it is counterproductive. That's what they were using in Igen and Keroon for the first stage of the illness. Tell Fortine to try featherfern to reduce fever. Tell him to try other febrifuges.»
«What? All on the same poor patient?»
«He will have patients enough for the different remedies.» Capiam spoke from wretched certainty. «Go, Desdra. My head is a drum tower.»
Desdra was cruel enough to chuckle softly. Or maybe she thought she was being sympathetic? One never knew what reaction to expect from Desdra. That was part of her charm, but she'd never make Master on the strength of it. She spoke her mind and sometimes a healer had to be diplomatic and soothing. She certainly didn't soothe Capiam. But he was relieved that she was in charge of him.
He lay supine, trying to rest his head as lightly as possible on a pillow that had apparently turned into stone. He willed the pain to subside, willed the fellis juice to dispense its numbing magic. His heart thudded. Erratic heartbeat had been mentioned by many of the patients. He'd had no idea that the symptom would be so severe. He hoped it would subside when the fellis juice took effect.
He lay for what seemed a very long time and, although the ache in his skull appreciably lessened, the palpitations did not. If he could just regain a normal heartbeat, he might be able to sleep. He was very conscious of his bone-deep weariness and that he had not benefited from that nightmare-filled sleep. He reviewed the appropriate herbs to relieve palpitations, whitehorn, adonis, glovecap, tansy, aconite, and decided on the latter, the old reliable root.
His rising from the bed was accompanied by much effort and suppressed moans, suppressed because Capiam did not want apprentice ears to witness masterly weakness. It was enough that the Masterhealer had basely succumbed; the grim details of his travail need not be advertised.