Butler, Octavia - Patternmaster

“She believed you were ready to die with me.”

Amber was silent for a moment. Then she smiled ruefully. “I was. She’s not only good at bluffing, but at seeing through a bluff, so I had to

be.”

“No, you didn’t.”

She said nothing.

“Stay with me, Amber. Be my wife—lead wife,

once I have my House.”

She shook her head. “No. I warned you. I love you—I guess we’re too close not to get to love each other sooner or later. But no.”

“Why?”

“Because I want the same .thing you want. My House. Mine.”

“Ours…”

“No.” The word was a stone. “I want what I want. I could have given my life for you back there if we had had to fight. But I could never give my life to you.”

“I’m not asking for your life,” he said angrily. “As my lead wife, you’d have authority, freedom ”

“How interested would you be in becoming my lead husband?”

“Be reasonable, Amber!”

“I am. After all, I’m going to need a lead husband.”

He glared at her, thoroughly angry, yet still searching for the words that would change her mind. “Why the hell did you stay two years with Coransee if you wanted your own House?”

“To enjoy the man, and to learn from him. I learned a lot.”

“You needed that on top of what you already had from Kai?”

“I needed it. I didn’t want to be just a copy of Kai, running on her memories. Clayarks, Teray.”

Her tone did not change as she gave the warning, but through the link he was instantly

aware of her alarm. She had reason to be alarmed. She had sensed the edge of a vast horde of Clayarks—perhaps the same tribe that they had noticed days before. They were behind Teray and Amber, approaching from the direction of Darah’s sector. It was possible that they had attacked one of the Houses there.

Teray and Amber had come through the hills to finally meet the old coastal trail, but the Clayarks were still in the hills. By the way they were moving, they meant to stay in the hills. There was game in the hills,, and there were edible plants. The Clayarks were moving on a course that roughly paralleled the coastal trail. It was possible, even likely, that they would pass the two Patternists without ever seeing them. Unless they changed course. Or unless they spread out more widely. Or unless they had already seen Teray and Amber—spotted them from their higher vantage point before they blundered into the Patternists’ range.

That last was a real possibility. Clayarks knew that two Patternists alone would not dare to attack a tribe.

“If they don’t go any faster,” said Teray, “we can keep ahead of them.”

“I’m not so sure I wouldn’t rather be behind them. I don’t like the idea of their driving us.”

“There are supposed to be some mute-era ruins not far ahead of us. Maybe the Clayarks will settle there for a while.”

“I don’t think so. I’ve been through those ruins. There’s not enough left standing to give shelter to a family of Clayarks, let alone a tribe.”

“That’s not what one of the stones I studied said.”

“Then that stone was out of date. I think people from Darah’s sector tore the ruins down because they attracted Clayarks.”

That was reasonable. That was why most of the ancient mute ruins had been leveled over the centuries, at least in Patternist Territory. But he was in no mood to be agreeable.

“Maybe they’ll stop there out of habit,” said Teray. “Whether they do or not, we’d better keep ahead of them.”

“Or find some cover and let them pass.”

“No. If they get ahead of us and stop, they’ll spread out. We’ll have to detour back through the hills to get around them.”

“Fine. At least we’ll be alive to make the detour. If we stay ahead of them, and they decide to come out of the hills, we’ll have nowhere to go.”

She was at least partly right, Teray knew. She was always right. He was getting tired of it. “Listen,” he said, “if you want to stay here and let them pass you, go ahead.”

“Teray…”

He looked at her angrily.

“We can’t afford this. Only people safe and secure in Houses can afford to let their emotions get in the way of their judgment.”

“Do you want to stay behind?”

“Yes. But I won’t. I’ll stay with you unless the Clayark’s start to veer in our direction. If that happens and you still haven’t cooled off, I’ll stay back and watch you go to meet them.”

And that, he thought bitterly, was probably the closest thing to a victory that he would ever have with her. Surely she had done him a favor by refusing to become his wife.

The Clayarks picked up speed a little and more of them came into range. Without thinking about it, Teray and Amber also moved faster. Then the Clayarks began to catch up again.

At that moment Teray realized that he and Amber were being pursued—or driven. Abruptly, there was no longer any question of what they should do. They had to find cover, a place from which they could make a stand. They could not outrun the Clayarks if the Clayarks were aware of them and intent on catching them.

Teray looked around quickly for a place where they could take shelter. Even as he looked, the Clayarks increased their speed again and turned toward the two Patternists.

Clayarks were, if nothing else, magnificent physical specimens. Running without restraint on level ground, they could reach speeds of one hundred kilometers per hour. Of course, they

were running on hilly ground now— but they were running.

They were in a kind of flying wedge formation, and they were holding back, not running even as fast as the hilly terrain would allow. Even at their present speed, though, they could run down a horse. Left alone, they could race past the horses, stop more quickly than anything moving that fast should be able to stop, turn, and fire at the passing horse and rider. They had been known to do such things to mutes. More-daring ones had even been known to attack the horse and rider directly, leaping onto the horse’s back or neck. They seemed totally oblivious to the risk to their own lives if they saw a chance to kill their enemies.

At a full gallop, Teray and Amber passed a grove of trees, ignoring them because they did not offer enough protection. There were rocks ahead, jutting up from the sand and continuing at irregular intervals out into the surf. Teray could see one place where they seemed to be high enough and wide enough to give shelter even to the horses. He directed Amber’s attention toward it and left it to her to see that they got there. He turned his own attention back to the Clayarks.

With shock, he realized they were in sight. He looked back to verify the impression and saw them first as a line, then as a wave coming over the crest of a hill, far too close behind the fleeing horses.

He began to kill.

The first ones died easily, their legs collapsing under them. Their bodies, impelled by their speed, rolled over and over, tripping those behind them who did not see them in time, causing some to dodge or leap over the sudden tangle of bodies.

There was a sound like a baying of hounds, and the formation broke. Hundreds of howling Clayarks scattered, put distance between one another, some speeding up, some slowing, many keeping to the other side of the hill where they could not be seen, where most could not even be sensed. A few rushed completely out of the hills, speeding toward the two Patternists until Teray cut them down.

The shooting began.

The horses, sides heaving, reached the rocks, outran them slightly, and twisted back as more shots rang out. Teray’s horse stumbled and almost fell. He did not realize until he had jumped off that it had been hit. Even then, his attention remained on the scattering Clayarks. He was only peripherally aware of Amber beside it, cursing and apparently healing. It was a Clayark habit to shoot Patternists’ horses since shooting Patternists themselves was not as immediately effective. A Patternist on foot was at least a slower-moving target.