All during the last round, she kept the sun at a midaftemoon position, feeling the strain of timing it in her bones, in Holth's heaviness. But when she asked Holth if they should stop, the dragon replied that she wished Keroon had a few mountains instead of all these dreadful plains.
Then they had delivered the last of the vaccine and the net across Holth's withers was empty at last. They were at a small western hold, stark amid the vast rolling plain, the runners held in an uneasy assembly around the great waterhole that supplied them. The holder was torn between administering the vaccine as long as he had light and offering hospitality to the dragon and rider.
«Go, you have much to do,» she told the man. «This is our last stop.»
Thanking her profusely, the man began to hand out the contents of the net to his handlers. He kept bowing to her and Holth, walking backward to his herd, all the while expressing his gratitude for their arrival.
She watched him go, numbly aware that Holth's body was shaking under her legs. She stroked the old queen's neck.
«Orlith is all right?» She had asked the question frequently, too.
«I am too tired to think that far.»
Moreta looked at the midaftemoon sun over Keroon plain and wondered with a terrible lethargy exactly what time it was.
«One last jump, that's all we have to take, Holth.»
Wearily the old queen gathered herself to spring. Moreta gratefully began her litany.
«Black, blacker, blackest.»
They went between.
«Shouldn't Moreta be back by now, Leri?» The blue rider had been prowling uneasily in the tiers, occasionally barking his shins. Leri blinked, looking away from K'lon. His restlessness deepened her anxiety despite the soothing effect of the fellis-laced wine she had been sipping all afternoon. It had eased the pain in her joints caused by the morning's concentrated flying but did not allay her worry. She jerked her shoulders irritably, arching her back, and peered down at Orlith who lay drowsing beside her clutch of eggs.
«Take a hint from Orlith. She's relaxed enough. And I won't disrupt their concentration with an unnecessary question at what could be an awkward moment,» she replied testily. «They'll be very tired. They'll have had to fight time and make every minute into twenty to get the vaccine distributed.» Leri balled one hand into a fist and pounded her thigh. «I'm going to rend M'tani.» She flexed her fingers as if to encircle M'tani's neck. «Holth'll rake that bronze of his into shreds.»
K'lon regarded her with startled awe. «But I thought Sh'gall»
Leri gave a snort of contempt. «L'mal would not have needed to 'discuss' the matter with K'dren and S'ligar. He'd have been at Telgar, demanding satisfaction.»
«He would? What?»
«No Weyrleader can disregard a continental emergency. Capiam has not revoked his priority. Well, M'tani will wish he had cooperated. And,» Leri's smile was malicious, «Dalgeth will answer to the other queens.»
«Really?»
«Hmm. Yes. Really!» Leri drummed her fingers on the stem other wine cup. «As soon as Moreta comes back, you'll see.»
K'lon peered out of the Hatching Ground. «The sun's nearly down now. It must be dark in Keroon …»
Afterward, K'lon realized that both the rider and the dragon knew in the same instant. But Orlith's reaction was vocal and spectacular. Her scream, tearing at his taut nerves, brought him round to witness the initial throes of her bereavement. Orlith had been lying at the rear of the Ground, her eggs scattered on the sand before her. Now she reared up on her hind legs, her awkwardly coiled tail all that prevented her from crashing backward as she arched her head back, howling her despair. The sounds she emitted were ghastly ululations in weird dissonances, like throat-cut shrieks. Then, in an incredible feat, Orlith launched herself from that fully extended posture, over her eggs, missing them by a mere handspan. She sprawled, muzzle buried in the sand as all color faded from her golden hide. Then she began to writhe, thrashing her head and tail, oblivious to the fact that she had caught her 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 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.