It is time to get up, sleepy one. Nadornth bespoke. Im’mel rolled over in his bed, the skin of his face paler than normal. "Nadornth..." he said weakly. "I’m sick."
You can’t be sick, we’re supposed to learn to Between today! the chestnut-colored weyrling said, objecting. Easoth, he sent, Im’mel is sick! Im’mel curled up in his furs, his face blank. In a moment, Weyrling Master D’tol arrived, a healer at his side. "I don’t want to cause you any trouble." Im’mel said weakly. "Stubborn boy!" the healer said, gently chiding. "Are you sure that brown out there isn’t really a mule?" Nadornth snorted derisively, but Im’mel was too weak to scold him. The healer dosed him with fellis and featherfern and soon he was off to sleep again. "I’ll bring up some soup in a while." the healer said, departing, as the Weyrling Master nodded his thanks. "You did the right thing, Nadornth, calling in Im’mel’s illness so quickly." D’tol said. Nadornth felt pleased at the praise, yet upset at the delay. "Don’t worry about your Betweening lesson. We’ll do it as soon as your rider is well." He gave the weyrling brown a pat, then departed, leaving Im’mel to sleep. The fever broke, and Im’mel slept. Several hours later he woke, stomach growling. The healer was there. "Awake I see. Are you hungry Im’mel?" he asked. Im’mel nodded weakly, and the healer brought the tray to his bedside. "I’ve some soup for you, and if you keep this down, I’ll bring something more substantial for evening meal." the healer said. Im’mel nodded again, and slowly ate the soup. He felt weak and childish. Nonsense. Nadornth said sleepily. My rider is no weakling. This caused Im’mel to smile. On the road to recovery now, soon the jester brown and his rider would be flying between.
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