A Gift of Dragons - Anne McCaffrey [44]
Rosa shrugged. “It can for all of me but it’s going to interfere with running something fierce.”
“I noticed that the Benden Thread halts are all repaired,” Tenna said.
Spacia shrugged. “We’d be fools to take any chances, wouldn’t we?” Then she grimaced. “I’d really hate to be stuck in one of those boxes with Thread falling all around me. Why, the wardrobe in Silvina’s storeroom is larger. What if it got in a crack, Thread got in, and I couldn’t get out?” She pantomimed terror and revulsion.
“It’ll never come to that,” Rosa said confidently.
“Lord Groghe certainly got rid of all the greenery around the Hold,” Spacia remarked, gesturing around.
“That was as much for the Gather as because the dragonriders said he had to,” Rosa said dismissively. “Oh, here come the Boll runners. . . .” She jumped to her feet, waving at the spearhead of runners who had just appeared on the southern road.
They were running effortlessly, their legs moving as if they had drilled that matched stride. They certainly made a fine sight, Tenna thought, pride swelling in her chest and catching her breath.
“They must have started last night,” Rosa said. “Oh, d’you see Cleve, Spacia?”
“Third rank from the rear,” Spacia said pointing. “As if anyone could miss him!” she added in a slightly derisive tone, winking at Tenna. Then she murmured, behind her hand for Tenna’s ears only, “She’s been so sure he wouldn’t come . . . Ha!”
Tenna grinned, now understanding why Rosa had wanted to sit outside that morning and why she had sent Spacia in when they needed more klah.
Then, all of a sudden, as if the arrival of that contingent had been the signal, the Gather was ready. All stalls were up and furnished, the first shift of harpers on the platform and ready to entertain. Then Rosa pointed to the wide steps leading down from the entrance to the Hold and there were the Lord and Lady, looking exceedingly grand in brown Gather finery, descending to the court to formally open the Gather Square. They were accompanied by the dragonriders as well as a clutch of folk, young and old and all related to the Lord Holder. According to Rosa, Lord Groghe had a large family.
“Oh, let’s not miss the opening,” Spacia told Tenna. Rosa had accompanied Cleve into the station and was helping Penda serve the Boll group a second breakfast after their long run.
So the two girls had excellent seats to watch the two Lord Holders do the official walk through the Gather.
“There’s Haligon,” Spacia said, her tone hard, pointing.
“Which one?”
“He’s wearing brown,” Spacia said.
Tenna was none the wiser. “There are a lot of people wearing brown.”
“He’s walking just behind Lord Groghe.”
“So are a lot of other people.”
“He’s got the curliest head of hair,” Spacia added.
There were two who answered that description, but Tenna decided it was the shorter of the young men, the one who walked with a definite swagger. That had to be Haligon. He was handsome enough, though she liked the appearance of the taller man in brown more: not as attractive perhaps, but with a nicer grin on his face. Haligon obviously thought himself very much the lad, from the smug expression on his face.
Tenna nodded. She’d give him what-for, so she would.
“C’mon, we should change before the mob gets upstairs,” Spacia said, touching Tenna’s arm to get her attention.
Now that she had identified Haligon, Tenna was quite ready to be looking her very best. Spacia was also determined to assist and took pains with Tenna’s appearance, fluffing her hair so that it framed her face, helping her with lip color and a touch of eye shadow.
“Bring out the blue in ’em, though your eyes are really gray, aren’t they?”
“Depends on what I’m wearing.” Tenna gave a little twirl in front of the long mirror in the room, watching the bias-cut swirl around her ankles. As Spacia had suggested, the anklets took up the spare room in the toes of the borrowed boots. Nor did they look ungainly on the end of her legs