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truth in his words: She felt as weak as a leaf.
A noise outside the room heralded the arrival of another person-a middle-aged
man with the lean, muscular look of a rider. His brown hair had only a few
strands of silver in it, and his brown eyes were kind.
"I've brought food," he announced, setting the tray he was carrying on the
bedside table. He picked up a pot and poured some of its contents into a cup.
"Though I suggest this herbal, first. A starved stomach needs to learn to eat
all over again."
With a wordless gesture, Kindan helped Lorana sit up, rearranging pillows
underneath her.
"I'm K'tan," the man said as he handed the cup to her. "The Weyr healer." He
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shook his head sadly. "You required much of my art these last six days."
"Thank you," Lorana told him gratefully. "I'm Lorana."
The healer and the harper exchanged looks, and Lorana got the impression that
they had just silently agreed to shelve some question they had.
"Let me help you," Kindan said, sitting carefully on her bedside and handing
her
the cup of tea.
Gratefully, Lorana sipped the tea. The liquid was just lightly warmed, and
her
throat welcomed its soothing presence.
K'tan regarded her carefully as she drank. After a moment she pushed the cup
away.
"Thank you," she said to Kindan. To the healer she said, "This is very good."
K'tan inclined his head in acknowledgment.
Suddenly Valla appeared, chittering. The fire-lizard took in the somber scene
and closed his mouth instantly, giving Kindan such a regretful look that
Lorana
smiled.
"Is he always such a character?" Lorana asked, her eyes twinkling.
"He's usually much worse," Kindan agreed. "I think he's on his best behavior
because-"
"I was on death's door," Lorana said, guessing what he hadn't said.
"You'll get better now," K'tan declared firmly. "If you can finish the tea,
there's some broth here you might try."
"And then I'll fall asleep," Lorana surmised.
"You've been this ill before," K'tan guessed.
"The Plague." She remembered how hard she and her father had fought to save
her
mother, brother, and sister. And how, after battling for a fortnight, they'd
lost first her sister, Sanna, then her brother, Lennel, and finally her
mother.
After the fever had taken her mother, she and her father had cried in each
other's arms. Neither she nor Sannel had wanted to live. And then she'd
caught
the plague herself and her nightmares intensified to fill her waking days.
The
only pleasant thing had been her father's face peering down at her as he
gently
wiped her forehead or held her up and spooned down broth. She had wanted to
go,
to join her mother and siblings, but she couldn't-the thought of leaving him
behind was too much. And the fever had passed, and she'd recovered.
She sensed a motion or a change in posture from Kindan and looked at him
carefully. His face had many smile lines on it, but it was carefully
schooled;
she could see the pain he was hiding and she knew that this man had seen
people-many people-die.
"Will I live?" she asked him quietly.
Her memory came back to her in a rush: the storm, Colfet, her plunge
overboard,
her blind thrust at the fire-lizards . . .
"Has anyone found Colfet?" she asked suddenly, trying once more to sit up.
Kindan held up a restraining hand but she struggled against it. "He was all
alone on the launch and his arm was broken."
Kindan gave her a startled look, followed immediately by careful scrutiny.
Beyond him, Lorana felt K'tan tense with worry.
"The dragonriders found nothing," K'tan told her softly.
"Please ask them to keep searching," Lorana implored.
"I shall talk with the Weyrleader," K'tan promised.
Lorana turned her eyes to Kindan. "My fire-lizards? Did they get to safety?"
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Kindan shook his head. "There's been no word of them."
Lorana slumped back into the bed.
"Here, try some more tea," Kindan told her softly, raising the cup once more
to
her lips. When she'd finished the cup he asked her, "Do you want to try some
broth, too?"
Behind him, K'tan shifted, his tension easing. "I'll be going," the healer
told
them. He glanced at Lorana. "I'll check in on you later."
He gestured toward Kindan. "You're in good hands."
Lorana woke, tired but alert. The room was dark. The only light came faintly
from a glow in the farther room. Something had startled her into wakefulness.
The lump at her back-Valla-was a warm and comforting presence. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]