Free Moreta by Anne McCaffrey Page B

girl. The holderwoman’s daughter, possible candidate for second wife? Lady Oma’s faint smile was speculative. As Moreta made her own evaluation, the girl, pretty enough with dark curling hair, smiled simperingly up at Alessan. Such an innocent would never attract Alessan, now that as Lord Holder he could have his choice from any hold or hall on the continent. Then Moreta noticed S’peren, a Fort Weyr bronzerider, watching the dance. She’d thought S’peren had been to Ista.
    “Is the Ista Gather over so soon?” she asked him, surprised.
    “A bit disappointing, really, once they’d taken the animal away. No racing.” S’peren gave her a tolerant smile. “Nowhere near as many people as Ruatha . . .” He nodded with satisfaction at the crowded dance square. “People weren’t in such a festive mood, either. There’s illness in Igen, Keroon, and Telgar.”
    “Runners?” The memory of the beast’s unexpected fall flashed across her mind.
    “Runners? No. People. A fever, I heard. Master Capiam was someplace about, I heard, though I didn’t see him.”
    “Ista’s Weyrleaders are well?” F’gal and Wimmia had been good friends during her Turns at Ista Weyr.
    “And sent you their good wishes, as usual. Oh, by the way, I bear greetings for you from an animal healer named Talpan. Said he knew you from your father’s hold.”
    Strange, Moreta thought, moving on after exchanging pleasantries with the High Reaches riders chatting with S’peren. Until that day she hadn’t been reminded of Talpan in Turns, and now she even had greetings from him.
    The dance ended and she tried to locate Alessan for another with him. He was such a good partner. Then she saw him in the square, partnering a girl whose long black hair made Moreta think at first he was dancing with Oklina. The girl turned slightly, and Moreta realized that he was doing his duty by yet another marriageable woman. She felt great sympathy for Alessan, remembering how bronze riders had besieged her before Orlith rose to mate two Turns ago.
    Moreta drained her goblet, then went in search of more wine or a partner. She very much wanted to dance again but paused by the nearest wine keg first. The barman quickly filled her cup and she thanked him. At the first sip, she realized her mistake. This wine had an acid aftertaste: Tillek, not the rich full mouth of the Benden. She nearly spat it out.
    This dance was a short wild hop, as much fun to watch for the people losing balance as to dance. When the harpers finished with a swirl, they added the chords that announced an intermission. It was the time for harper songs. Moreta half expected Tirone to stride in, for he should be leading singer of a Ruathan Gather, but the young Masterharper of Ruatha Hold and an older journeyman moved to the fore in his stead.
    When Moreta looked toward the head table, she saw Alessan flanked by a pair of pretty girls, one of them a redhead. Lady Oma was certainly wasting no time at this Gather. Disinclined to return to the head table, Moreta found an unoccupied stool.
    She enjoyed the first song, a rousing ballad, and joined in the chorus with as much verve as those around her. Fine voices near helped her find the harmony for she didn’t have a high enough voice to stay with the soprano line. Halfway through the second chorus, Moreta was conscious of Orlith’s mind.
    You do like the singing, too, don’t you?
she sent to the queen.
    Singing is a pleasant occupation. It lightens the mind and all minds are together.
    Moreta’s voice faltered into a laugh, which she quickly suppressed for it wouldn’t do, even if she were the Weyrwoman, to laugh through a serious song.
    The harpers led the Gather in four traditional songs, each one sung with increasing zest as the dancers recovered their breaths. The young Ruathan harper, an excellent tenor, sang an unfamiliar song that he announced he’d found while going through old Records. The melody was haunting and the interval between