F'lar sagged, dropping to one knee, gasping with his exertions. Wearily he scrubbed at his forehead with the back of his left hand, every line of his body emphasizing the dejection he was experiencing.
«You could have done nothing else, F'lar,» Robinton said softly, wishing he had the strength to move to F'lar's side.
From the Weyrwoman's chamber came the rejected suitors, dazed by their participation in the mating flight. They came out in a mass, and Robinton couldn't figure out who had remained with the Weyrwoman as her mate and was now the new Weyrleader of Ista.
His sudden inexplicable weakness confused the Harper. He couldn't catch his breath; he hadn't the energy to quiet Zair, who was chittering the wildest distress. The pain in his side had moved again to his chest, like a heavy rock sitting on him.
«Baldor!»
«Master Robinton!» The Istan Harper rushed to his side, his face expressing horror and consternation as he assisted Robinton to the nearest bench. «You're gray. Your lips. They're blue. What's wrong with you?»
«Gray is how I feel. My chest. Wine. I need wine!»
The room began pressing in on the Harper. He couldn't breathe. He was aware of shouts, sensed panic in the air and tried to bestir himself to take control of the situation. Hands pushed him down, then flat, making it totally impossible to breathe. He struggled to sit up.
«Let him. It will help his breathing.»
Dimly Robinton identified the voice as Lessa's. How did she come to be here? Then he was propped against someone and could breathe more easily. If only he could rest, could sleep.
«Clear everyone from the weyr.» Lessa was giving orders.
Harper, Harper, listen to us. Now listen to us. Harper, don't sleep. Stay with us. Harper, we need you. We love you. Listen to us.
The voices in his head were unfamiliar. He wished they would be silent so that he could think about the pain in his chest and the sleep he so desperately craved.
Harper, you cannot leave. You must stay. Harper, we love you.
The voices puzzled him. He didn't know them. It wasn't Lessa or F'lar speaking. The voices were deep, insistent, and he wasn't hearing them with his ears. The voices were in his mind where he couldn't ignore them. He wished they would leave him alone so that he could sleep. He was so very tired. T'kul had been too old to fly his dragon or win a fight. Yet he was older than T'kul, who now slept in death. If only the voices would let him sleep, too. He was so tired.
You cannot sleep yet. Harper. We are with you. Do not leave us. Harper, you must live! We love you.
Live? Of course, he would live. Silly voices. He was just tired. He wanted to sleep.
Harper, Harper, do not leave us. Harper, we love you. Do not go.
The voices were not loud, but they held on to him, in his mind. That was it. They were not letting his mind go.
Someone else, outside him, was holding something to his lips.
«Master Robinton, you must try to swallow the medicine. You must make the effort. It will ease the pain.» That voice he recognized. Lessa. Distraught.
Of course, she would be, with F'lar having to kill a rider, and all the trouble with the theft of the egg, and Ramoth being so upset.
Harper, obey Lessa. You must obey Lessa, Harper. Open your mouth. You must try.
He could ignore Lessa, he could bat feebly at the cup at his lips and try to spit out the bitter tasting pill which was melting on his tongue, but he could not ignore those insistent voices. He let them put wine in his mouth, and swallowed the pill with it. At least they had the kindness to give him wine, not water. Water would have been undignified for the Harper of Pern. He could never have swallowed water with the pain in his chest.
Something seemed to snap inside him. Ah, the pain in his chest. It was easing, as if the snap had been the loosening of the tight band that constricted his heart.
He sighed at the relief. One didn't fully appreciate the absence of pain, he thought.
«Take a sip of the wine, Master.» He felt the cup at his lips again.
Wine, yes, that would complete his cure. Wine always did revive him. Only he still wanted to sleep. He was so very tired.
«And another!»
You may sleep later. You must listen to us and stay. Harper, listen! We love you. You must stay.
The Harper resented their insistence.
«How long does it take the man to get here?» That was Lessa's voice, sounding fiercer than he'd ever heard her. Why did she also sound as if she were weeping? Lessa weeping?
Lessa is weeping for you. You do not want her to weep. Stay with us, Harper. You cannot go. We will not let you go. Lessa should not weep.
No, that was right, Lessa should not weep. Robinton didn't really believe that she was. He forced his eyes to open and saw her bending over nun. She was weeping! The tears were dropping from her cheeks to his hand which lay limp and upturned as if to receive the tears.
«You mustn't weep, Lessa. I will not have you weeping.» Great Shells, he was losing his voice control. He cleared his throat. This would never do.
«Don't try to talk, Robinton,» Lessa said, gulping back her sobs. «Just rest. You've got to rest. Oldive is coming. I told them to time it. Just rest. More wine?»
«Have I ever refused wine?» Why was his voice so faint?
«Never,» and Lessa was laughing and crying at the same time.
«Who's been nagging me? They wouldn't let me go. Make them let me rest, Lessa. I'm so tired!»
«Oh, Master Robinton, please!»
Please what?
Harper, stay with us. Lessa will weep.
«Oh, Master Oldive. Over here!» That was Lessa again, leaving his side.
Robinton tried to reach for her.
«Don't exert yourself!» She was holding him down, but she was staying beside him. Dear Lessa! Even when he was angry with her, he loved her nonetheless. Perhaps more, because she was angry so often and anger intensified her beauty.
«Ah, Master Robinton.» Oldive's soothing voice made him open his eyes. «The chest pain again? Just nod. I'd rather you didn't make the effort to speak.»
«Ramoth says he has great pain and is very tired.»
«Oh? Convenient having the dragon listen, too.» Master Oldive was putting cold instruments to his chest and on his arm. Robinton would have liked to protest.
«Yes, I know they're cold, my dear Harper, but necessary. Now listen to me, your heart has been overstrained. That was the pain in your chest. Lessa gave you a pill which has relieved that pain for the moment. But the immediate danger is past. I want you to try to sleep. You are going to need a lot of rest, my good friend. A lot of rest.»
«Then tell them to be quiet and let me sleep.»
«Who's to be quiet?» Oldive's voice was soothing, and Robinton was vaguely annoyed because he suspected Oldive didn't believe he'd heard them keeping him awake. «Here, take this pill and a sip of wine. I know you've never refused wine.»
Robinton smiled weakly. How well they knew him, Oldive and Lessa.
«It's Ramoth and Mnementh talking to him, Oldive. They said he had nearly gone…» Lessa's voice broke on the last note.
Nearly gone, was I? Is that what it feels like to be so close to death? Like being very tired?
You will stay now. Harper. We can let you sleep. But we will be with you. We love you.
Dragons talking to me? Dragons keeping me from death? How kind they are for I did not want to die yet. There is so much to be done. Problems to be solved. There'd been a problem on my mind.. about dragons, too…
«Who flew Caylith?»
Did he manage to say that out loud? He didn't even hear his own voice in his ears.
«Did you hear what he said, Oldive?»
«Something about Caylith.»
«Wouldn't you know he'd worry about that at a time like this?» Lessa sounded more like herself, acerbic. «Barnath flew Caylith, Robinton. Now, will you sleep?»