A Gift of Dragons - Anne McCaffrey [52]
“I didn’t forget,” he murmured, taking her by the arm.
Being partnered with a Holder’s son allowed them to patronize a different line at the roasting pits and so they were served well before Cleve and Rosa. The wine Haligon ordered was more of the excellent one she’d sampled in the afternoon so Tenna was quite merry and relaxed by the time the dancing began.
What surprised her, because she’d given the first dance to Grolly—as much because he didn’t expect to get any dances from such a pretty girl as because he asked her first—was that Haligon did not dance it with someone else. He waited at the table for a breathless Grolly to bring her back. It was a sprightly enough tune for dancing but not as fast or complicated as the toss was. The next dance was at a slower tempo and she held out her hand to Haligon, despite the fact that half the male runners at the Gather were now crowding about for a chance to dance with her.
He pulled her into his arms with a deft movement and they were suddenly cheek to cheek. He was only a little taller than she was so their steps matched effortlessly. One circuit of the room and she had perfect confidence in his leading.
Since they were dancing cheek to cheek—he was only a little taller than she was—she could feel his face muscles lifting in a smile. And he gave her a quick pressure with both hands.
“Do you know when you’re running again?”
“I’ve already had a short leg, down to the port,” she said. “Enough for a good warm-up.”
“How do you manage such long distances on your own legs?” he asked, holding her out slightly to see her face in the light of the glowbaskets that lined the dance floor. He really wanted to know, too.
“Part of it’s training, of course. Part that my Blood is bred to produce runners.”
“Could you have done anything else with your life?”
“I could but I like running. There’s a sort of . . . magic to it. Sometimes you feel you could run ’round the world. And I like night running. You feel like you’re the only one awake and alive and moving.”
“Quite likely you are, save for dimwits on mounts on traces they shouldn’t be using,” he said in a wry tone. “How long have you been running?”
He sounded genuinely interested. She had thought perhaps she had made a mistake, being sentimental about something as commonplace as running.
“Almost two whole Turns. This is my first Cross.”
“And I was a dimglowed idiot who interrupted it,” he said in an apologetic tone.
Tenna was almost embarrassed at his continued references to his mistake.
“How often do I have to say I’ve forgiven you?” she said, putting her lips closer to his ear. “That green leather is going to make fine shoes for me. By the way, how’d you know that was the hide I wanted? Were you following us about?”
“Father said I had to make amends in some way more personal than handing you marks . . .”
“You didn’t give Tanner Ligand what he asked for, did you?” Her query was sharp, because she didn’t want him to have had to spend more than she felt necessary. And she leaned away from his guiding arm enough so that she could see his face as he answered
“I won’t tell you how much, Tenna, but we struck a fair bargain. Trouble was,” and now Haligon’s voice was rueful, “he knew just how much I needed that particular hide. It’s the talk of the Gather, you know.”
Tenna suspected that it was and she hoped she could tell it to her own station before they heard rumor, which always exaggerated.
“Hmmm. I should have expected that,” she said. “I shall be able to make two pairs of summer shoes out of that much leather and I’ll think of you every time I wear them.” She grinned up at him.
“Fair enough.” Evidently satisfied by this exchange, he resettled his arms about her, drawing her just that much closer. “You didn’t seem as interested in any other hide, you know. So I’d got off more lightly than