Dragonriders 3 The White Dragon by Anne McCaffrey

Author:Anne McCaffrey
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2011-01-13T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER XIII

A Cove in the Southern Continent, 15.7.7-15.8.7

JAXOM ROUSED, felt something wet slip down from his forehead across his nose. He irritably brushed it aside.

You are feeling better? Ruth’s voice held a volume of wistful hope that astonished his rider.

“Feel better?” Not quite awake, Jaxom attempted to lift himself up on one elbow but he couldn’t move his head, which seemed to be wedged.

Brekke says to lie still.

“Lie still, Jaxom,” Brekke ordered. He felt her hand on his chest preventing his movement.

He could hear water dripping somewhere nearby. Then another wet cloth, this one cool and aromatic with scent, was placed on his forehead. He could feel two large blocks, padded because they lay along his cheeks to his shoulder, on either side of his head, presumably to keep him from moving his head from side to side. He wondered what was wrong. Why was Brekke there?

You’ve been very sick, Ruth said, anxiety coloring his tone. / was very worried. I called Brekke. She is a healer. She heard me. I couldn’t leave you. She came with F’nor on Canth. Then F’nor went for the other one.

“Have I been sick a long time?” Jaxom was dismayed to think he’d needed two nurses. He hoped that the “other one” wasn’t Deelan.

“Several days,” Brekke replied, but Ruth seemed to think a longer period of time. “You’ll be all right now. The fever’s finally broken.”

“Lytol knows where I am?” Jaxom opened his eyes then, found them covered by the compress and reached to pull it away. But spots danced in front of his eyes, even shielded by the fabric of the compress, and he groaned and closed his lids.

“I told you to lie still. And don’t open your eyes or try to remove the bandage,” Brekke said, giving his hand a little slap. “Of course Lytol knows. F’nor took word to him immediately. I sent word when your fever had broken. Menolly’s has too.”

“Menolly? How could she catch my cold? She was with Sebell.”

Someone else was in the room because Brekke couldn’t speak and laugh at the same time. She began quietly explaining that he hadn’t had a cold. He’d had an illness known as fire-head to Southerners; its initial symptoms were similar to those of a cold.

“But I’m going to be all right, aren’t I?”

“Are your eyes bothering you?”

“I don’t really want to open them again.”

“Spots? As if you were staring at the sun?”

“That’s it.”

Brekke patted his arm. “That’s normal, isn’t it, Sharra? How long do they generally last?”

“As long as the headache. So keep your eyes covered, Jaxom.” Sharra spoke slowly, almost slurring her words but her low voice had a rich lilt that made him wonder if she looked as good as her voice sounded. He doubted it. No one could. “Don’t you dare look about. You’ve still got that headache, haven’t you? Well, keep your eyes closed. We’ve got the place as dark as we can but you could do permanent damage to your eyes if you’re not careful right now.

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