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 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.
Teray brought his attention back to Amber and saw that she was ready She lit the grass, then both she and Teray took cover down the opposite slope of the hill.
There, while Teray kept watch for Clayarks, Amber saw that the tiny fire did its work. As the fire heated the metal of the gun’s receiver, Amber extended her perception into the metal itself and observed minutely the reaction of the metal to the fire—how it changed as it heated. She claimed later that she had never examined an inanimate object so closely before. But she seemed to have no difficulty doing it. She observed the quickening motion of the molecules of the metal. And once she had observed it, understood it, she could control it. She could intensify the heat of the metal to a point beyond the ability of the tiny dying fire. For a moment she sweated, concentrated on doing the unfamiliar thing. Then the three cartridges exploded almost simultaneously.
The rifle leaped into the air with a roar. If fell to the earth in two pieces, receiver blown open, stock and barrel completely separated. The pieces landed heavily on the body of their Clayark owner.
Teray and Amber went down the hill to where they had left their horses and found that Coransee and the others had ridden forward to meet them. Immediately Coransee gestured Teray up beside him. He spoke as they rode.
“You know you’re going to have to pay for what you did, don’t you?”
“Almost did.”
“Oh, you did enough. However clumsily.”
“What do you want?”
“The woman has told you what I want. I saw it in your mind when you called to me a few minutes ago.”
Teray looked away from him in silent defeat and desperation. As careful as he had been, Coransee had read him—had read him as easily as he had that first time months before on the day Teray left school.
“Break the link, brother.”
After a moment, Teray obeyed and dropped back silently to his place beside Amber. Everything Coransee did made Teray more aware of how little chance he had of surviving a fight with the Housemaster. He had let himself hope, let himself forget. Coransee might make even quicker work of him this time, because this time the Housemaster would be out to kill instead of only to subdue.
Teray would die. Then Coransee would turn his attention to Amber. Eventually she would die. The embryo growing within her would die. Painfully, Teray considered giving in, submitting to Coransee’s control. It was not something he would do to save himself. Could he do it for Amber’s sake? He had not done it for Iray’s, and Iray had been his wife. He thought about it, head down, perception indrawn, not caring at this point whether the Clayarks shot him or not.
No. No, that was stupid. Dying by a Clayark bullet would be the same as dying in combat with Coransee. Amber would still be left to the Housemaster. In fact, even if Teray submitted to Coransee’s controls, Coransee would still be free to kill Amber. Teray would be of no more help to her than Joachim had been to Teray. Submitting would solve nothing even if he could have done it. And he couldn’t have. He couldn’t.
Amber.
What could he do to help her, beyond trying to cripple Coransee? And with ten Patternists restraining her, how could she get to Coransee if Teray did manage to cripple him?
He looked at her, then looked away. She was watching him. She was beside him, watching him, yet he had never felt so cut off from her. He could not link with her or speak openly to her. And tonight, against her will and his, she would again share Coransee’s pallet.
Teray turned his thoughts away from that quickly. In that direction lay fury, recklessness, death. And he realized now more than ever that to be of any help at all to Amber, he had to find a way to keep himself alive. If there was a way.
Teray found himself thinking about Rayal. Journeyman Michael had promised Teray sanctuary if Teray managed to reach Forsyth on his own. How much of a difference would it make to Rayal if Teray reached Forsyth not on his own, but in tow, the acknowledged outsider of Coransee? Not a successful runaway, but an outsider. How much did Rayal care about either of his two strongest sons? He was the one man who could surely take Teray from Coransee if he wanted to. But would he want to? Apparently he had all but openly designated Coransee his heir. That was contrary to the law of succession, but who was going to force Rayal to obey the law? And if Rayal had chosen Coransee, why would he now oppose Coransee over Teray? But then, why should Rayal have offered Teray sanctuary at all? Would it be worth Teray’s while to trust Rayal, go on to Forsyth, giving up hope of leaving a crippled Coransee for Amber to kill? If only he could reach Rayal and find out before he arrived at Forsyth. But he did not know Rayal. He had never had any communication with him, and never recorded within his memory the knowledge of anyone who had. That meant that he could not call Rayal as, for instance, he could call Coransee or Amber. It was possible that Amber had met the Patternmaster on her last trip to Forsyth and could share her knowledge of him with Teray. But Teray did not dare to ask her. Thus, there was only one way for him to reach Rayal. One illegal way.
Through the Pattern.
Since the Pattern connected each individual Patternist with Rayal, in theory, any Patternist, however lowly, could use it to contact Rayal. In fact, though, the use of the Pattern for communication was restricted to Housemasters, Schoolmasters, Rayal’s journeymen, and Rayal himself. Rayal, of course, could use it whenever he chose, but Housemasters, Schoolmasters, and journeymen were permitted to use it only to report a Clayark emergency. Lately Rayal had chosen to ignore their emergencies. It was possible that he would also ignore Teray’s. He might even punish Teray for misusing the Pattern. But Teray had to take that risk. Had to take it soon—that night. Forsyth was getting closer.
That night when everyone was bedding down, Amber stole a few moments from Coransee and came to sit on Teray’s pallet. She said little. She simply took Teray’s hand and held it. The sensation was much like being linked with her again. Teray could feel her begin to relax. He could feel himself relaxing. He had not realized how tense he was.
Then a woman named Rain came over with a message for Amber. “He wants you.”
Amber winced, got up, and left. Rain stayed a little longer.
“I was who he spent most of his nights with before we caught up with you,” she told Teray. “You don’t look any happier about being alone than I am.”
Teray looked up at her and forced himself to smile. It wasn’t hard. She was a beautiful woman, well-shaped, smooth-skinned, with a long mane of black hair hanging loose down her back. Another time, under other circumstances. “I don’t like it,” he said. “But it’s best. I’m too surly now to be anything but alone.”
“Are you that tied to her?” Rain smiled and sat down where Amber had been. “Give her a few minutes and she won’t be thinking about anything but him.”
“Rain.” Teray held on to the shreds of his temper.
“So it seems only fair that you should have someone else to think about too.”
“Rain!”
She jumped, and looked at him.
“Get away from me.”
She was not accustomed to being refused. She flushed deeply and muttered something that was probably insulting, though Teray hardly heard. Then she stalked away angrily. Beyond being glad that she had gone, Teray did not care. Without moving, he closed his eyes and focused his awareness on the Pattern.
He had been lying on his back, looking up at the stars. Focusing on the Pattern now was like shifting to view another night sky within his own head. A mental universe. Other Patternists were seen as points of light constantly changing in shape, color, and size, reacting as individual Patternists changed their thoughts, their emotions, their actions. When a Patternist died, a point of light blinked out.
Teray, seemingly bodiless, only a point of light himself in this mental universe, discovered that he could change his point of view without seeming to move. He was suddenly able to see the members of the Pattern not as starlike points of light but as luminescent threads. He could see where the threads wound together into slender cords, into ropes, into great cables. He could see where the cables joined, where they coiled and twisted together to form a vast sphere of brilliance, a core of light that was like a sun formed of many suns. That core where all the people came together was Rayal.
Because Teray was doing something he had never done before, he first had difficulty understanding that the sphere of light was not a thing that he had to travel to, but a thing that he was a part of. He could not travel along the thread of himself. He was that thread. Or at best, that thread was a kind of mental limb, a mental hand that Teray discovered possessed a strong instinctive ability to grasp and hold. Teray grasped.
And instantly, he was grasped.
He struggled reflexively, uselessly, for a moment, then forced himself calm. He was not being hurt or even roughly handled. He was simply held in a grip that he knew he could not break. Something was done to him. He was disoriented for a moment, then he lost his focus on the Pattern and found himself channeled through to Rayal as though to a friend—as though he had simply reached out to the Patternmaster. And he was no longer held. He could break the contact if he wished.
The Pattern was again clear for emergency calls. Teray waited, giving Rayal access to his thoughts so that the Patternmaster could see and understand the situation quickly. It seemed to Teray that Rayal examined his thoughts longer than necessary, but there was nothing he could do about it. He was in no position to rush the old man. Finally, though, he became aware of Rayal sending.
Things have gone too far, young one.
Too far?
You’re going to have to face him.
You mean you won’t give me sanctuary? Not even for … Teray caught himself, stopped the thought. But Rayal guessed what his words would have been anyway.
Not even for the time I have left? That’s right, young one, I won’t give you sanctuary for even that long. It wouldn’t do you any good.
It would keep me alive! Me, Amber, our child. I’d have time to learn the kind of fighting that they don’t teach in school.
You’ve had time.
In Coransee’s House! Do you think anyone there would dare teach me what I need to know?
Rayal gave a mental shrug. You’ve learned enough.
I’ve learned nothing! You offered me sanctuary through your journeyman. Why are you turning your back on me now that I’ve almost reached you?
You know why. I offered you sanctuary if you could make it here on your own. Obviously, you couldn’t; you were caught.
That doesn’t have to mean anything to you if you want to help me.
It means a great de
al. Especially since if you hadn’t been caught, you would probably have been killed by Clayarks. Don’t you think I had a reason for making your sanctuary conditional—for making it a thing you had to earn?
Teray was beginning to understand. He had been tested, and as far as Rayal was concerned, had been found wanting. That apparently made him not worth bothering about.
Can you … will you help Amber? he asked. I’ll let myself be brought into Forsyth, fight him there, if you’ll give her sanctuary.
No.
The thought was like a stone. There was nothing more to be said. Teray could feel the old man’s absolute inflexibility. Teray shot him a wordless obscenity and broke contact.
Rayal was old and sick and useless. He had not fulfilled his responsibilities to the people for years. Teray was not really surprised to find him unwilling to go a little out of his way to help only one person. Especially when he might be helping that one to defeat Coransee. Teray still could not see why Rayal had bothered to offer sanctuary at all. Why even waste time testing Teray when he had already chosen Coransee to succeed him?
Teray sighed, opened his eyes, and looked around the camp. Apparently no one had detected his communication with Rayal. The camp was as it had been before Teray closed his eyes. He closed his eyes again, resolving to sleep one more night, live at least part of one more day before he challenged Coransee. He would not ride into Forsyth with the Housemaster. He would not give his life away. Tomorrow perhaps the Clayarks would give him another chance at Coransee. If they did, he would make good use of it this time. But whether they did or not, no matter what it cost him, he would do his best to spare the people the burden of Coransee’s leadership.
Chapter Nine
THE NEXT DAY CLAYARK snipers harassed the Patternists from the moment the Patternists broke camp. The snipers kept well out of the Patternists’ range and fired their rifles more to keep the Patternists on edge than to kill. It was possible that Teray’s kill the day before had made them cautious. Which was just as well since Teray could never make such a long-distance kill now, alone.
Seed to Harvest Page 84