Leri was dressed in her flying gear but grumpy.
"Maybe you'd better not fly your run if your joints are bothering you so much. Did you take enough fellis juice in your wine?"
"Hah! I knew there'd come a day when you'd beg me to take fellis juice!"
"I'm not begging you-"
"Well, you don't need to remind me either. Just didn't sleep well last night. Kept going over the details of what goes where and with whom. M'tani couldn't have picked a better time to be obnoxious." Leri was blackly sarcastic. "You're going to have to cope with Sh'gall today, you know, and all that injured dignity. Good thing we planned for you to stay in the Hatching Ground; otherwise he'd get suspicious."
"He's asleep."
"He should be! Gorta tells me he put away two wineskins on his own. Now, if you'll just pass that strap?-There!"
Holth nuzzled Moreta with unexpected affection as she bent her head to accept the neck strap, and Moreta gave her eye ridge a scrape.
"You'll take good care of Leri today, won't you, Holth?"
Of course!
"Of all the nerve. Talking behind a rider's back!" Leri pretended indignation, but she smiled warmly at Moreta before she tugged at the harness to be sure that the clips were secure. There!" She thumped Holth on the neck. "We'd best be off. I'm taking the upper ranges. When I collect the animal vaccine from Ruatha, shall I leave in any messages?"
"You'll wish them well, of course. And see what Holth thinks of Oklina."
"Naturally!"
Moreta accompanied Leri to the ledge and, as Holth crouched low, helped her mount. Leri fastened her riding straps, settled her small frame against Holth's ridge, and waved a negligent farewell. Moreta stepped back against the wall while Holth leaped off, her wing strokes strong and sure. She flew toward the feeding ground and then, in an instant, was gone between. Moreta worried at Holth's habit of nipping between so soon after takeoff, but the dragon was old. After they had treated everyone, Moreta was going to present the strongest possible arguments to Leri about continuing flight at all. The wise old Weyrwoman could be exceedingly useful down at Ista where the climate would be much kinder to both dragon and rider.
Other dragons were at the feeding ground, Moreta noticed, after reaching her decision about Leri's future. The sparse numbers of the Weyr herd stampeded to the lake and some ambled into the water. A pursuing green had a fine time splashing after a wherry, and sprays of water made rainbow dazzles in the midmorning sun. The green's triumphant bugle was somewhat muffled by the wet mass in her mouth. Instead of flying up to her ledge to savor her meal, the green veered low and deposited the wherry at the feet of the blue dragon on the far side of the lake. Tigrath had preyed for Dilenth, A'dan and F'duril standing by. Unless Moreta's eyes deceived her, the third man watching the exchange was Peterpar, the Weyr herdsman.
When she joined the trio, Peterpar was finalizing the details of a wherry hunt to be held that afternoon if the weather kept fair.
"They've nooks they squeeze into up in the ravines, Moreta," Peterpar explained. "If it stays sunny"-he twisted round to view the cloudless horizon-"and it looks to, they'll be out, browsing. A'dan here says he's willing."
"I was thinking of asking S'gor to join us," A'dan said. "Malth could use an excuse to spread her wings, and the chase would do S'gor a power of good!"
"He oughtn't to stay immured like that," F'duril agreed, glancing up toward S'gor's weyr in the western arc of the Bowl. "We'll do it," he added with a wink and a nod at Moreta. "A'dan here could get a snake to walk when he sets his mind to it." Grinning, he hooked arms with his friend.
"Nonetheless, Moreta, we'll hunt the hills out right quick," Peterpar said with a shake of his head. He frowned as he pushed together some stones with the toe of his boot. "How soon d'you expect the holders'll be willing to send up a drove?"
"Could we not just ask for permission to hunt until there's no more fear of spreading plague?" A'dan asked. Neither he nor F'duril had been infected since both had stayed close to F'duril's injured blue Dilenth during the worst of the contagion.
"That would spare holders the necessity of a drove when they're shorthanded and behind on spring work," Moreta agreed, adding that detail to the others she was accumulating.
"Round up the strays for people in Keroon and Telgar," Peterpar said, nodding sagaciously. "I did hear that animals were let run when folk took sick with no one to care for them." Then he pointed skyward. "Where're the queen riders going? Is that S'peren with them?"
"On Search," Moreta said casually.
"Queens don't go on Search," Peterpar said presumptuously.
"They do when a Weyrwoman has been treated as uncivilly as Telgar treated me," Moreta declared with sufficient severity to quell Peterpar's curiosity. "Orlith does need to be fed. Do please get a few juicy bucks for her in your hunt."
Smiling, she left the men. Trust Peterpar to take an interest in everything. He hadn't mentioned Holth and Leri so perhaps Holth's shallow-angle approach to between had been justified. K'lon must have left earlier, but he was in and out of the Weyr so frequently on convey that his departure would not cause comment. It amused Moreta that she could turn M'tani's disaffection to advantage, so he was made useful instead of being merely obstreperous. Now if Sh'gall would just sleep all day. . . .
She felt inordinately good that morning, aware of the smell of the spring in the air, the warmth of the sun, the laughter of the children playing near the Cavern. Once the dragons had finished feeding, they would return to the lakeside, their favorite spot for games. The atmosphere in the Bowl was returning to a normal buzz of pleasant activity, no longer silent with anxiety. However, an air of anticipation, of suppressed excitement, hung over the infirmary when she visited looking for Jallora, who was vaccinating one of the riders scored the day before.
"Good morning, Moreta," Jallora said. "A well-timed arrival. Now I can give you the second vaccination which Capiam has ordered for the Weyrs. Dragonriders travel so much," she said with a mild apologetic smile. Nothing in her expression indicated that the procedure was anything but routine. She administered Moreta's dose with the deftness of long practice.
"Can I give you a hand?"
"I wouldn't object. I've got the Lower Cavern to do. I vaccinated the queen riders before they left on their errand."
Did Moreta imagine a twinkle in Jallora's eyes? At least she could keep busy helping the journeywoman, and so she passed the morning well occupied. When she saw Peterpar with A'dan and S'gor, she went to tell Orlith that there'd be more choice if she could contain her appetite until later in the afternoon.
Wild wherries are tough, Orlith remarked a trifle petulantly, but generally tasty, she added, sensing Moreta's concern and nuzzling her rider. Kadith sleeps. Holth says that the errand proceeds well.
Moreta was very grateful that Kadith still slept. Inevitably Sh'gall would discover that Fort Weyr riders had taken part in Capiam's vaccine distribution-preferably after he had recovered from the wine and when he had calmed down over M'tani's insult. Moreta could have been mistaken, but she had a fleeting thought that Sh'gall was obscurely pleased by M'tani's attitude toward her.