Two drops should suffice. It was a strong drug and must always be administered carefully. He remembered to secure a writing hide from his supply, gathered up ink and pen, and took all back to his bed, where he arranged his stool as his writing desk. Heart still pounding. Capiam composed his first entries, carefully noting the day and the exact time.
He was grateful to lie down again. He concentrated on his breathing, slowing it and willing his heart to slow. At some point in the exercise, sleep overcame him.
«Holth is upset. He is angry and so is Leri.» Orlith's concerned but apologetic tone roused Moreta from a profound slumber.
«Why didn't he stay asleep and leave the ordering of the Weyr to me?»
«He says Leri is too old to fly, and the plague kills the elderly first.»
«Scorch him! This epidemic business has addled his wits!» She dressed quickly, grimacing as she stuffed her feet into clammy boots.
«Leri says that she must speak with the ground crews, especially at a time like this, to find out who gets ill and to spread the word. She says she can do so without unnecessary physical contact.»
«Of course she can.» Leri had never been in the habit of dismounting to accept ground-crew reports. She was not tall and remaining on her queen gave her many advantages.
Moreta raced up the stairs through the thick fog. She could hear Holth's agitated rumblings by the time she reached the weyr entrance. Sh'gall's angry voice made her quicken so that she entered the weyr in a burst of speed.
«How dare you interfere with the queens' wing?» she demanded, allowing her momentum to carry her right up to him.
He spun around and, holding both hands up to keep her at a distance, backed off. Blinking with distress, Holth was swinging her head anxiously from side to side over Leri. A Weyrleader was an unlikely source of danger for her rider.
«How dare you upset Holth and Leri?» Moreta shouted.
«I'm not yet so decrepit I can't handle an hysterical bronze rider!» Leri retorted, her eyes snapping with anger.
«You queens stick together, don't you,» Sh'gall shouted back, «against all logic and reason!»
Holth roared, and from the weyr below, Orlith trumpeted; then the fog resounded with dragon queries.
«Calm down, Sh'gall! We don't need the Weyr in an uproar!» Leri spoke in a tense but controlled voice, her eyes catching and holding Sh'gall's. She might have retired as senior Weyrwoman but just then she exuded the unmistakable authority of her many Turns in that position. When Sh'gall looked away, Leri glanced sternly at Moreta. The younger Weyrwoman spoke soothingly to Orlith and the furor outside the weyr subsided. Holth stopped her agitated head-swinging.
«Now!» Leri folded her hands over the cumbersome Record she was trying to keep in her short lap. «A fine time to be quarreling over small points. The Weyr needs undivided leadership now more than ever. We've a double threat to overcome. So let me tell you a few things, Sh'gall, that you seem to have overlooked in your very laudable concern for protecting the Weyr from this plague of Capiam's. As of yesterday's Gathers there can't be many of our dragonriders who haven't been exposed to it. In fact, you're the most likely carrier since you were actually in the infirmary at Southern Boll as well as at Ista, viewing that poor beast.»
«I never went into the infirmary and I never touched the feline. I washed thoroughly in the Ice Lake before I returned to the Weyr.»
«So that's why your wits are slow, too bad your tongue thawed first! Hold it, Weyrleader!» Leri's forceful tone and her stern face quelled the retort on the bronze rider's lips. «Now, while you slept, Moreta was busy. So was I.» She hefted the heavy Record in her lap. «The watchriders all know to deny the Weyr, not that anyone's likely to be flying in this fog after two Gathers. The drum towers of Fort Hold have been booming all day. Peterpar's checked the herds for sign of illness, which isn't likely since the last drove came from Tillek. Nesso has been busy talking to those sober enough to absorb information. K'lon continues to improve. Moreta, exactly what do you think is wrong with Berchar?»
Moreta had never doubted that Leri kept an ear on everything that occurred outside her weyr, but the former Weyrwoman was too discreet to display her knowledge.
«Berchar?» Sh'gall exclaimed. «What's wrong with him?»
«Quite likely what ailed K'lon. At Berchar's instructions, S'gor isolated him and will himself remain weyrbound.»
Sh'gall began to sputter with the questions he wanted to ask. «If K'lon has recovered, Berchar should as well,» Moreta continued reasonably.
«Two sick!» Sh'gall's hand went to his throat, then his forehead. «If Capiam says two to four days before the onset of illness, you shouldn't be feeling ill yet,» Leri said bluntly but not unkindly. «You'll lead in tomorrow's Fall. Holth and I will fly with the queens' wing and, as is my custom, I will receive ground-crew reports, that is, if any ground crew are about. It's unlikely that Nabol and Crom will panic. A disease would have to be desperate indeed to seek victims in those forsaken holds. As is my custom, I shall remain on Holth, thus keeping to a minimum any possible contagion. It is essential to the main duty of the Weyrs to keep in contact with every holder. Without ground crews to assist us, we'd have twice the work. Do you not agree, Weyrieader?»
Judging by the consternation on Sh'gall's face, he had not yet considered the possibility of inadequate ground-crew support.
«Not that it would matter if I did contract this plague of Capiam's. As well as being elderly,» Leri cast a malicious glance at Sh'gall, «I'm certainly the most expendable rider.»
Holth and Orlith trumpeted in alarm. Even Kadith spoke as Moreta rushed to embrace Leri, her throat suddenly thick at the casual remark.
«You are not expendable! You are not! You're the most valiant of all the queen riders on Pern.»
Leri gently disentangled herself from Moreta's fierce grasp then dismissed Sh'gall imperiously. «Go. All that can be done has been done.»
«I'll get Kadith settled,» he said, leaving as if pursued. «And you settle yourself,» Leri said to Moreta. «I'm worth no one's tears. Besides, it is true. I am expendable. I think Holth would like to rest and she can't until I do, you know.»
«Leri! Don't say such things! What would I do without you?» Leri gave her a long searching look, her eyes very bright. «Why, my girl, you'd do what you have to. You always will. But I'd miss you. Now, you'd best get down to the Cavern. Everyone will have heard the queens sounding off and Kadith's tizzy. They'll need to be reassured.»
Moreta stepped back from Holth's couch and Leri, abashed by the intensity of her feeling.
«You're not worried because you touched that runner at Ruatha, are you?»
«Not particularly.» Moreta shrugged diffidently. «But I did and it's done. My rash impulses always worried L'mal.»
«Not half as much as your ability to deal with injured dragons pleased him. Now go, before they have too much time to fret themselves. Oh, and would you take this piece of harness to T'ral to be mended?» She chucked a roll of leatherstrap to Moreta. «Would never do for me to tumble off, would it? Such an ignominious end! Go on now, girl. And check your own harness, routine is reassuring in times like these. I wish to continue my fascinating reading!» Leri made a comical grimace as she tugged the Record volume into a more comfortable position.
Moreta left Leri's weyr, her fingers finding the stretched length in the strap. She re-coiled it. In a subdued mood, Moreta dutifully inspected her own harness, which she had oiled after the last Fall and hung neatly on its pegs.
«I did not like to wake you but when Holth asked, I did.»
«And you did exactly as you should.»
«Holth is a great queen.» Oriith's eyes whirled brightly. «And Leri is marvelous.»