He thought back to Taraza’s behavior on the Guildship and immediately afterward.
So the threat from Schwangyu had to be a real threat that he discovered and faced and solved on his own.
Taraza had not known what would happen to Patrin because of all this.
It was not logical that she would . . . Teg dumped this line of reasoning. Taraza did not want him to act logically. She wanted him to do exactly what he was doing, what he had always done in the tight spots.
So there was a species of logic to all of this but it kicked the performers out of the nest into chaos.
Grief welled up in his consciousness.
Teg could almost hear the old aide’s response, that stiffly formal voice Patrin always used when he was chiding his commander.
The most coldly progressive reasoning said Teg would never again see Patrin in the flesh nor hear the old man’s actual voice. Still . . . the voice remained. The person persisted in memory.
“Shouldn’t we be going?”
It was Lucilla, standing close in front of his position beneath the tree. Duncan waited beside her. Both of them had shouldered their packs.
While he sat thinking, night had fallen. Rich starlight created vague shadows in the glade. Teg lifted himself to his feet, took his pack and, bending to avoid the low branches, emerged into the glade. Duncan helped Teg shoulder his pack.
“Schwangyu will consider this eventually,” Lucilla said. “Her searchers will come after us here. You know it.”
“Not until they have followed out the false trail and found the end of it,” Teg said. “Come.”
He led the way westward through an opening in the trees.
Three nights he had led them along what he called “Patrin’s memory-path.” As he walked on this fourth night, Teg berated himself for not projecting the logical consequences of Patrin’s behavior.
Teg admitted to himself then that there
As the Bene Gesserit often said
Teg was forced to admit that walking the wild places of Gammu created a whole new perspective for him. This entire region had been allowed to overgrow with plant life during the Famine Times and the Scattering. It had been replanted later but mostly as a random wilderness. Secret trails and private landmarks guided today’s access. Teg imagined Patrin as a youth learning this region—that rocky butte visible in starlight through a gap in the trees, that spiked promontory, these lanes through giant trees.
Patrin had not said that
Teg swallowed past a lump in his throat.
That was true.
Lucilla had jittered through their first day under the life-shield that protected them from discovery by the instruments of aerial searchers.
“We must get word to Taraza!”
“When we can.”
“What if something happens to you? I must know all of your escape plan.”
“If something happens to me, you will not be able to follow Patrin’s path. There isn’t time to put it in your memory.”
Duncan took little part in the conversation that day. He watched them silently or dozed, awakening fitful and with an angry look in his eyes.
On the second day under the shielding blanket, Duncan suddenly demanded of Teg: “Why do they want to kill me?”
“To frustrate the Sisterhood’s plan for you,” Teg said.