A Gift of Dragons - Anne McCaffrey [51]
“I don’t usually go around knocking people down,” Tenna began, and received another surreptitious jab in her ribs from Rosa, sitting beside her. “Except when they need it.” She leaned forward, away from Rosa. “I meant to hit you.”
Haligon rubbed his jaw. “I’m as glad enough you didn’t. When Master Torlo told me that you’d been kept from running for three days, I knew I was very much at fault. Then he told me of the other near-misses. Will you accept this leather in compensation, with my apology?”
“Your father has already apologized.”
“I make my own, Runner Tenna,” he said with an edge to his voice and a solemn expression.
“I accept, but . . .” She was about to refuse the leather when, once again, Rosa jabbed her. She’d have sore ribs at this rate. “I accept.”
“Good, for I should have a miserable Gather without your forgiveness,” Haligon said, his expression lightening. Lifting the glass he had just been served, he tilted it in her direction and drank. “Will you save me a dance?”
Tenna pretended to consider. But she was secretly thrilled, for despite their first encounter, there was something about Haligon that she found very attractive. Just in case, she shifted in her chair, moving her upper body away from Rosa to avoid another peremptory jab.
“I was hoping to be able to do the toss dance,” she began and, when Haligon eagerly opened his mouth to claim that, she added, “but my right leg isn’t entirely sound.”
“But sound enough surely for the quieter dances?” Haligon asked. “You seemed to be walking well enough.”
“Yes, walking’s no strain for me . . .” and Tenna hesitated a little longer, “but I would enjoy having a partner.” Which allowed him to ask for more than one dance.
“The slow ones, then?”
“Beveny asked for one, remember,” Rosa said casually.
“When does the dancing start?” Tenna asked.
“Not until full dark, after the meal,” Haligon said. “Would you be my supper partner?”
She heard Rosa inhale sharply but she really did find him an agreeable sort. Certainly the invitation was acceptable. “I would be delighted to,” she said graciously.
It was so arranged and Haligon toasted the agreement with the last of his wine, rose, bowed to them all, and left the table.
“Yo-ho, Tenna,” Rosa murmured as they watched his tall figure disappear in the Gather crowd.
Cleve, too, grinned. “Neatly done. Do hope you’ll be back on another Cross soon in case we have some more problems you can help us with.”
“Oh, run off, will you?” Tenna replied flippantly. Now she allowed herself to finger the dark green leather hide. “Was he watching us, do you suppose? How’d he know?”
“Oh, no one’s ever said Haligon was a dimwit,” Rosa said. “Though he is, riding runner traces like he has.”
“He must have told his father, then,” Cleve said. “Owning up to all that shows an honest nature. I might end up liking him after all.”
“Proper order,” Rosa said. “Though he never admitted using the traces before when Torlo braced him on that.” She grinned at Tenna. “It’s sure true that a pretty girl gets more attention than a plain one like me.”
“You are not plain,” Cleve said indignantly and realized he had fallen into Rosa’s neatly laid trap to elicit a compliment from him.
“I’m not?” she replied, smiling archly.
“Oh, you!” he said with the wordless disgust of the well-baited. Then he laughed and carefully split Groghe’s glass between their glasses. “Much too good to waste.”
Tenna returned to the station long enough to put away the beautiful leather. And long enough to get many requests for dances and to be supper partner from other runners who congratulated her.
“Told ya so, dinnit I?” Penda said, catching Tenna’s arm as she was leaving. The woman was grinning from ear to ear. “Pretty girl’s always heard, ya know.”
Tenna laughed. “And Haligon’s going to stay off the traces.”
“So his father promised,” Penda said, “but we’ll have to see does he.”
“I’ll see that he does,” Tenna promised airily and returned to the Gather Square. She’d never had such a marvelous time before.
The supper lines