Patternmaster p-1 Page 14

  “Yes?”

  “He’s not taking you to Forsyth to be judged by Rayal. He’s already judged you himself. He’s taking you to Forsyth to kill you. He’s as wary of you as he is of me, and he wants someone around to heal any damage you might do to him. Meanwhile, he’ll make do with just humiliating you.”

  “You interpret the little you got from his mind to mean all that?”

  “Yes. And it fell right into place. I know him, Teray. I know how he lies. You should, too, by

  now.”

  “But he could have killed me back at Redhill.”

  “Why should he have? You were still being a good, respectful outsider. Still doing as you were told. There was always the chance that you might come to your senses and submit. But then you had to go and run away—to Forsyth, yet, and with me.” She took a deep breath, slowed down. “Well, think about it. I admit it’s guesswork, but I couldn’t be more positive that I’m right. If you decide you agree with me, you’d better start thinking about what you’re going to do.”

  She bent to pick up a blanket. He caught her arm. They straightened, facing each other.

  “You haven’t said it all,” he told her. “There’s enough anxiety coming through the link to tell me you’ve left out something important.”

  Without speaking, she severed the link.

  Solitude came to him jarringly. “Why did you do that? What’s the matter with you?”

  “You want me to stay linked to you while I’m with him?”

  Understanding, Teray grimaced. For the second time that day, their extreme closeness made the link a handicap. “All right,” he said. “You had reason to break the link. But you didn’t break it soon enough. I know something else is bothering you.”

  “It’s personal,” she said. “My business.”

  From anyone else, that would have been enough to stop him. But he knew her better than he had ever known anyone else. He did not believe she really wanted him to stop.

  “Tell me,” he said quietly. He was still holding her arm and she wrenched away from him.

  “You’re as big a fool as I am,” she said. “Looking for more trouble when you’ve already got plenty.”

  “What have you done that you consider foolish?”

  She gave a short, mirthless laugh. “It’s only my timing that’s foolish, Teray. I decided that I wanted a child by you. And since I didn’t know how long we’d be together, I didn’t want to wait.”

  For a moment Teray’s surprise left him without words. Finally, “You mean you’re pregnant now?”

  “Oh yes. And believe me, I wouldn’t have told you if Coransee hadn’t already found out. He realized it when he made me open.”

  “But you’ve opened to me and I haven’t seen

  …”

  “You don’t snoop the way he does. It’s practically an art with him. Open to him and he lifts your whole life.”

  “He’s the last person who should know.” Teray frowned. “Hell, he has the right to kill it if he wants to—since he claims us and he hasn’t given us permission to have a child.”

  “It’s barely a child yet. It’s only a few days old—just a ball of cells growing.”

  “You should have told me. I can’t understand why he hasn’t killed it already.”

  “I haven’t let him,” she said. “Because the way things are going, I wasn’t sure you’d be around to replace it.”

  Teray winced. “That’s encouraging.”

  “Just don’t let him get you to Forsyth.”

  “How did you keep him from killing the baby?”

  “I let him see how determined I was to have it. He decided to let me wait until we get to Forsyth, too.”

  “He told you he would kill it in Forsyth?”

  “No, he withdrew without comment. He withdrew in that special way of his that means, ‘Later.’ ” She sighed. “I think he only wants to kill it out of vindictiveness—because I refused to have a child for him.”

  Teray frowned. “I should let you know that I’m not ignoring the warnings you’re giving me about Forsyth.”

  “I didn’t think you were. You don’t have to say anything more about it.”

  “Good. And I want you to know that I consider protecting an unborn child a responsibility for two. If Coransee reads that in your thoughts, fine.”

  “I’d feel the same way,” she said softly, “if you and I had talked about it ahead of time. If we had

  both decided that it was a reasonable responsibility to assume at a time like this—which it isn’t.”

  “No, it isn’t.” He hugged her and suddenly found himself smiling. “And I wouldn’t have asked it of you until we were a lot more secure. But I’m glad you did it. Why did you refuse to have his child?”

  “He waited too long to ask me. He waited until I had gotten to know him.”

  Teray laughed softly. She had given him a kind of victory. Not a large victory, but one he could savor. One that Coransee’s humiliations could not destroy. And the child would be a living link between them even if Teray was unable to convince her to stay with him. Or it would be a part of him that survived even if Coransee succeeded in killing him. But he did not want to think about that last. Living suddenly seemed more important than ever. Living and keeping Amber and the child alive.

  “Teray?”

  He looked at her, knowing that she was about to leave him.

  “What did you do to Coransee a while ago? I felt him almost lose consciousness.”

  He told her.

  She smiled a very small smile, kissed him, gathered up a blanket, and went to Coransee.

  Chapter 8

  Amber returned to Teray before breakfast the next morning. She was quiet and withdrawn. She seemed to relax a little when he asked her to link up again. But through the reestablished link he could feel her smoldering anger.

  “Did he make you open again?”

  “Yes.” The anger flared for a moment.

  “Are you all right?”

  She did not answer.

  “Is the child all right?”

  “We’re both all right… for now. I have to go back to him tonight.”

  Now Teray felt anger of his own. “If he’s alive tonight.”

  “God!” she whispered. “Don’t tell me anything.”

  “I don’t know anything to tell you. I’m just waiting for my chance. He has to know that much already.”

  “He does. He knows everything I told you last night. He wasn’t even surprised when he read it—and he didn’t deny any of it. Look at him.”

  Teray looked toward the main group and saw Coransee standing encircled by his people. He was talking to them, and though Teray could not hear what he was saying, Teray felt suddenly apprehensive.

  “We now have eleven enemies instead of just one,” said Amber.

  “Is he linking with them?”

  “No. That’s our edge. It wouldn’t do him any good to link with them. He can’t use a link for anything but an alarm. He’s just ordering them to watch us. If one of us attacks him they’re supposed to sit on the other one. That way, we can be almost sure that whichever one of us takes him on alone will be committing suicide. He’ll be sure of taking someone with him even if he gets killed.”

  Teray nodded. “I can’t blame him. That’s what I’d do.”

  “You wouldn’t hold free people prisoner and put yourself in the position of having to do it.”

  “Why can’t he use a link with them—at least some of them—to borrow strength? I know they’re not close to him, and it wouldn’t be very pleasant, but he should be able to stand it. I could.”

  “If I had to,” said Amber, “I might be able to take a few of them myself. But Coransee can’t. He’s too close to succeeding Rayal.”

  “What does that have to do with it?”

  “He can’t take strength from anybody until he can take it from everybody. I was with him the last time he tried, and I can’t tell you in words how close he came to losing
control. He almost made a grab for the Pattern.”

  “Almost provoked Rayal into killing him, you mean. Rayal isn’t going to give up his power a day sooner than he has to.”

  “That’s just it. When Coransee and I were on better terms, he told me he would try to snatch the Pattern from Rayal if he weren’t so sure of having it handed to him soon. But to get killed trying to snatch it away now would be worse than stupid.”

  “All right, so he can’t use his people in the way they’d be most effective. All that means is that I’ll have to fight him in the way I intended to from the first. Alone.”

  “Either you will or I will.”

  “I will, if for no other reason than that there are two of you.”

  “It doesn’t matter much,” she said. He frowned at her, surprised. He had expected an argument.

  “If you kill him, well and good,” she said. “But I can feel that even you don’t think much of your chances. And if he kills you, he’ll still claim me. He’ll kill our child and then he’ll have to kill me. I’d rather be dead than be his property anyway.”

  She wasn’t just angry, he realized. She was bitter and resigned. Her last sentence reminded Teray of what he had said when Michael asked him whether he could ever accept Coransee’s controls.

  “Listen,” he said softly, “if I can’t kill him, I’ll cripple him. I’ll hurt him as badly as I can. I’m

  not as quick as you are at that kind of thing, but I’ll do what I can to soften him up for you. If you’re able to break free of his people … you’ll have an advantage.” He wondered what the chances were of her breaking free of ten Patternists. They had to be far worse than his chances of killing Coransee. “I’m sorry,” he said.

  “Sorry for what?”

  He did not answer. Their eyes met in understanding.

  “He’ll be watching you,” she said. “Be careful.”

  ************************************

  As it happened, though, Coransee, like everyone else, was kept busy enough watching for Clayarks. The Clayarks were apparently closing in for the kill.

  At least one sniper was with the Patternists constantly— sometimes more than one. The creatures kept out of sight, traveling through the hills. And they kept out of range—just out of Teray and Amber’s combined range. It had occurred to Teray that one of the reasons Coransee still permitted him to link with Amber was the unusually wide range of their awareness. That and the knowledge that no other linked pair was as anxious about Clayarks, after what had happened the day before.

  The group had come a short distance inland, crossing a small peninsula. In the clear air, they could see the ocean in the distance as they rode over a slight rise. There were Clayarks in the hills

  alongside them, firing uselessly. The Patternists had become used to them. But as the Patternists reached the top of the rise and looked down at the land and the vast expanse of ocean, a single deeper, louder shot thundered out.

  One shot. Teray knew nothing more than that the sound seemed to have come from ahead of them, and that neither he nor Amber had been hit. He snatched more strength from her, reached, stretched, extending their combined perception as far as he could ahead of them, sweeping a wide area, finding and killing a single Clayark. There was only one in range.

  Teray shifted his attention back to the Patternists and realized that they had stopped. Coransee had dismounted or fallen from his horse. He was kneeling on the ground, Amber approaching him, others dismounted, going toward him.

  Teray swung down from his horse quickly and strode over to the Housemaster.

  “I’m all right,” Coransee wa6 saying to Amber. “I’m fine. Even I’m healer enough to handle this.” He turned sharply as Teray approached. For a moment they stared at each other, Teray assessing the damage with his eyes alone. His mind was suddenly tightly shielded. Coransee said softly, “Try it, brother, and the Clayarks will make a meal of you.”

  Teray relaxed slightly, cautiously. Coransee’s wound was not serious. The bullet had only torn through the flesh of his shoulder. He was not

  incapacitated mentally, not forced to give large amounts of his attention to keeping himself alive. He was no more vulnerable for his wound.

  “You would have done it,” said Coransee with surprise. “If you had come up and found me fighting for my life, you would have finished me off.”

  “As you would have finished me in the same situation, brother,” said Teray softly. “I learn from you. And you have no idea what a good teacher you are.”

  Teray met Coransee’s eyes levelly, but he was shaking inside with reaction to what he had almost done. And he was shaking with anger—anger at himself. He had been too obvious, in too much of a hurry. If Coransee had not turned and spoken, Teray might have made a fatal error. Inexperience. Never in Teray’s life had he stooped to attacking a wounded person. He was surprised now at how ready he had been to do it. Coransee had indeed been a good teacher. But Teray found himself a little ashamed of having learned this particular lesson. He would do it again if he had the opportunity. But he wouldn’t learn to like it.

  Coransee seemed to read his emotion. The Housemaster smiled. “I see you surprised yourself too,” he said. “You’re shedding your school morality quicker than I thought. I’ll keep that in mind.” Coransee turned from him and began healing his wound.

  Teray glanced at Amber and saw that she had

  been quietly surrounded by Coransee’s people—just in case. Frustrated and angry, Teray went back to his horse and remounted.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” Coransee asked, looking up again.

  “I killed the Clayark who shot you. I want a look at the gun he was using.”

  “Stay here.”

  Somehow, Teray controlled his temper. “Brother, by the sound of that gun, it wasn’t the kind that the Clayarks usually use against us. It was something special, and if we leave it where it is we’ll be hearing from it again.” As Teray spoke, Amber went back to her horse, watched but not stopped by Coransee’s people.

  “You too, girl,” said Coransee. “All this concern over a Clayark rifle.”

  “No, Lord,” said Amber. “Actually, I just want to get away from you for a while.”

  Coransee stared at her coldly. “Go with him then. Be my alarm in case the gun gives him foolish ideas. Be my alarm and my eyes.” He looked at Teray. “But don’t even think about trying to get away again.”

  Without answering, the two urged their horses forward, away from the group.

  “I should have followed through,” Said Teray. “Even though he was ready for me. It has to happen soon anyway.”

  Amber said nothing.

  “It will be harder than ever now.” He looked at her. Her face was too carefully expressionless. “Whatever it is, say it.”

  “Just something you should be aware of.”

  “Yes?”

  “You made a good kill just now, but you went after the wrong animal.”

  Teray frowned and turned to stare at her with sudden realization.

  “I’ve never known you to move faster than you moved just now,” she said. “You took strength from me, you hit the Clayark—nobody even knew what you had done until a couple of seconds after you’d done it. Now if you had forgotten about the Clayark and hit Coransee …”

  Teray shook his head miserably. “I was responding to the Clayark,” he said. “Not thinking, just responding. I don’t think I could have moved as quickly if I had thought about it.”

  “I know. And he’s not going to give us the chance to try it again, you can depend on that. The minute we get back to him, he’s going to break us up. No more link.”

  “If he does, the Clayarks are liable to finish him for us. None of his people can handle Clayarks as well as we can.”

  “Maybe. Or the Clayarks might kill one of us. We’re only two days from Forsyth now. If I were

  him, I’d take my chances with the Clayarks.”

  They came upon the
Clayark sprawled on the side of a low hill, his rifle lay beside him. They did not touch the weapon. Patternists had learned through bitter experience that Clayarks often booby-trapped their rifles just before using them—set them to inject a little recently taken saliva into the fingers of unwary Patternists. This could be done with nothing more than a few well-placed wood or metal splinters. Kept warm and moist, the Clayark disease organism could live for a few moments outside a human body.

  Teray and Amber only observed that the rifle was not the usual Clayark weapon, as Teray had thought. It was heavier, and doubtless more powerful. Neither Teray nor Amber had seen one like it before. Mounted atop it was a telescopic sight that had already proven its usefulness. In the past, Clayarks had rarely used such things. But then, in the past, Clayarks had not shot Patternists from nearly a kilometer away with rifles.

  Either the long period of Rayal’s illness had given them time to improve their weaponry or they were simply bringing out their best guns—and their best marksmen— to kill two of Rayal’s sons. Probably both.

  “What shall we do with the*5 gun?” said Amber. “Burn it?”

  “Scorch it, you mean.” Teray stared at the polished wood of the rifle’s stock. “There’s not much more than grass around here to start a fire

  with. Mostly green grass.”

  “The gun has three bullets left in it.”

  Teray probed at the rifle where it lay, and sensed the three remaining bullets. He nodded. Then as Amber covered it with the driest grass she could find, Teray reached down to Coransee. He did not want contact with the Housemaster, but it was necessary. He found Coransee waiting for them, apparently finished healing his shoulder.

  You’re going to hear shots, Teray sent. It will be us destroying the gun. Warn the others. He was carefully open enough so that Coransee could see that he was telling the truth—that open, and no more.

  Coransee returned wordless agreement.