The Dragonriders of Pern - Anne McCaffrey [398]
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.