The Cyber Chronicles - Book I: Queen of Arlin (10 page)

After the
drover, there was a long delay while the ratty man begged the
muttering crowd for a new challenger. No one seemed eager to
challenge the cyber, and Tassin hoped his ordeal was over. Her
hopes were dashed when a rangy, red and black-clad man stepped
forward, unbuckling his sword. His well-trimmed beard and expensive
clothes marked him as a wealthy man, his confident air and quality
sword meant that he was a fighter, perhaps a soldier or bandit.

The ratty man
hopped about collecting bets as the crowd's enthusiasm revived.

Tassin pointed
at the new challenger. "Sabre, defeat him."

Sabre turned
his head and blinked slowly, an almost seductive expression that
bespoke intense exhaustion. Almost half the lights on his brow band
were red, and even one of the seven diagonal lights flashed red.
She had the impression that those lights were more important than
the others, since they were a little brighter. Also, whenever the
brow band became splattered with mud, Sabre wiped it, and she
wondered at the reason for this. She considered withdrawing him and
spending the night in the woods, but this had to be the last fight.
He had already defeated four opponents; it seemed stupid to waste
all that effort now.

The bearded man
was a good fighter, as Tassin had feared, and Sabre's exhaustion
showed. Several times, he slipped whilst jumping back to avoid his
opponent's attack, receiving some hefty blows. Still the bearded
man could not defeat him, and the fight dragged on. Tassin wondered
why Sabre did not use the brutal power with which he had defeated
Torrian's men. His blows seemed far less effective, and he broke no
bones, which was odd, considering that she knew he could crush a
man's skull with a punch even through a steel helm. It was almost
as if he held back and suffered the consequences. The crowd grew
restless, and Tassin glanced around. The sun set behind the trees,
and, in the gathering dusk, mischief-makers were afoot.

Tassin gave a
shocked cry as a short, wiry figure grabbed the harness and tried
to yank it from her grasp. She hung on, and was dragged face-first
into a farmer's smelly armpit. Still she did not relinquish her
hold on Sabre's precious harness with its magical weapons, entering
into an uneven tug of war with the thief. Digging in her heels, she
attempted to wrench the harness back, buffeted by angry spectators.
Without thinking that Sabre was otherwise engaged, she yelled for
him to help.

The cyber
turned and launched himself into the melee. A blow sent the short
thief sprawling, but Tassin fell backwards into the mire as he
released the harness. Landing in a plethora of taffeta petticoats,
she opened her eyes to find Sabre's brow band mere hair-breadths
away. The cyber had somehow ended up crouched over her, one knee
raised, the other in the mud, his arms bracketing her head.

Tassin yelled
as the dark shape of Sabre's opponent loomed over them and hit
Sabre on the back of his neck. His head dipped, the brow band
brushing her cheek, then he reared up and smashed his elbow into
the bearded man's face. The man staggered back, clutching his
broken nose as blood oozed from it. In a smooth motion, Sabre rose
and hit him again, knocking him senseless into the muck. Tassin
picked herself up, Sabre's harness still firmly in her grasp.

The bearded man
was dragged out of the ring, and the ratty man reappeared to
solicit the crowd, but the spectators dispersed, shaking their
heads. When all but the supine body of Sabre's last opponent had
left, the bald man faced Tassin. With a mirthless grin, he handed
her the leather bag and turned to leave.

"Hold him," she
snapped, and the cyber's hand flashed out to grip the man's
collar.

Tassin opened
the bag and peered inside. As she had suspected, no gold gleamed in
the bag. The coins were mostly coppers, with one or two silver
ones, worth little. She eyed the man, who struggled feebly, making
choking sounds.

"Where is the
gold we won?"

"That's it! I
didn't make much, no one would bet against him!" he squeaked.

Tassin glared
at him. "You made enough; put some gold in here."

He dug into the
copious pockets of his filthy coat and produced several gold coins,
dropping them into the bag. "That's all I've got! This is
robbery!"

Tassin stepped
closer and dug in his pockets, coming away with a handful of gold
and still leaving his coat heavy with more. Satisfied, she nodded
at Sabre. "Release him."

The man
scurried away, muttering. Tassin turned to Sabre, who was little
more than a shadow in the gloom. A band had struck up in the centre
of the green, and people danced with gay abandon in a bright
circle. The rest of the green was dark and empty now, the people
having gravitated to the revelry and lights.

"Come on."

Tassin
unhitched the horses, handing the reins to Sabre, and set off
towards the houses that bordered the green. She soon found an inn
under a peeling sign that named it the Black Queen. After stabling
the horses with the ostler, she went to a merchant and purchased a
pair of men's trousers, a shirt, boots and a warm coat, then
trudged to the inn and rented a room. The rates were high and the
inn almost full due to the festival, so she could only get one
room. Sabre followed her up the creaking stairs to a scruffy room
with a narrow bed. She had paid extra for a bath, which the
landlord had assured her would be brought to the room.

Tassin sat on
the bed and surveyed the battered cyber. Apart from his bloody
nose, Sabre's most obvious injuries were a gash on the side of his
head and the one on his flank, which bled afresh. After regarding
him for several minutes, unsure of what to do, she rose and ordered
him to sit on the bed. He did so, and she bent to inspect the new
gash. The lights on the brow band glowed bright red, and she
wondered if this meant that he was in pain. His face still
registered no expression, and his silvery eyes stared ahead as
blankly as ever.

Tassin found a
pitcher of water and a rough towel, which she dampened and used to
clean the gash. While she worked, he blinked slowly several times,
and she wondered what it meant, if anything. As she was putting the
finishing touches to her ministrations, her bath arrived, and she
found that she faced a new dilemma. Should she order Sabre to stand
out in the hall while she bathed? After pondering the problem, she
realised that she did not have the heart to make him wait outside.
He was injured and plainly exhausted, besides which, Sabre did
whatever she said without question or deviation. She ordered him to
lie down and close his eyes, then draped a towel over his head.

"Do not
move."

Tassin stripped
and stepped into the steaming tub, luxuriating in the hot water.
She soaked until the water cooled, washed and got out, dressing in
her new clothes. Sabre had not moved, and she pulled the towel away
to gaze down at him. Mud and blood smeared him, and he stank of
dung and sweat. A wave of pity washed over her, but she thrust it
away. He was just a soldier. Nevertheless, she could not have him
around smelling like he did.

"Sabre."

His eyes
flicked open, and Tassin told him to stand by the wall, then poked
her head into the hall and collared a passing maid, ordering
another bath. While she sat on the bed and combed her hair, she
studied him again.

"Sabre, what
injuries do you have?"

"Minor cuts and
abrasions, some bruising, and two broken ribs."

Tassin stopped
in surprise. "Are you in a lot of pain?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"The cyber
controls pain."

Tassin frowned.
He was talking nonsense again. As she finished plaiting her hair,
the second bath arrived. Two burly men staggered in with a steaming
tub and removed the first one. She ordered Sabre to bathe, and
watched him strip and step into the tub. He seemed oblivious to her
scrutiny, washing himself before adding his trousers to the tub and
scrubbing them too.

While he was
occupied, she studied the harness. Several silver tubes were tucked
into the webbing, and round metal things hung on hooks. A dagger
nestled in a sheath, and a transparent pouch contained odd tubes
and vials. Her gaze strayed to the contraption that he had removed
from his right wrist and placed beside the tub. The grooved metal
band allowed the laser and grenade launcher to move around it into
firing position, controlled by buttons on a curved pad beneath it.
Curious, she rose and picked it up to examine it more closely.

Sabre turned
his head towards her. "That is a weapon. It should be handled with
extreme care."

Tassin almost
dropped it, startled by his soft statement. Hastily she put it down
and retreated to the bed. It was the first time he had said
anything that was not an answer to a question or a warning of
danger. This was more like advice. She gazed at him in confusion as
he finished bathing and got out, averting her gaze while he dried
himself.

When he was
dressed once more in damp but clean trousers, she noticed that his
knuckles were raw and bleeding. Borrowing his knife, she cut strips
from her taffeta petticoats to bind them, telling him to sit on the
bed again. As she was about to wrap his hands, she noticed the
scars. A thin white line ran along the top of each finger and
across the knuckle, following the tendons up to his wrists, where
they joined into one line that continued up his arm. She studied
them, then raised her eyes to his face.

"What are these
scars?"

"They were
caused by operations to strengthen the bones."

Her eyes
widened. "How did they do that?"

"By implanting
metal reinforcing along them."

Tassin stared
at the scars. "You mean they cut you open and put metal inside your
hands?"

"Yes."

"Who did this
to you?"

"Cyberon, which
manufactures cyber units."

She sighed,
exasperated by his terse replies. "Who are they?"

"A corporation
that specialises in the design and manufacture cybers and other
hi-tech equipment."

Tassin studied
his impassive face. "You call yourself equipment?"

"Yes."

"But you are a
man."

"No. A
cyber."

She scowled at
him. How dare he contradict her? Especially with such nonsense. She
could see he was a man. Did he think she was as stupid as him?
"That is your name."

"Correct."

"Then why do
you keep calling yourself a sabre? That is your name, not what you
are; you are a man."

"No. A
cyber."

Tassin snorted
in frustration, wrapping his hands in the makeshift bandages. Her
attempts at conversation always ended up going around in circles,
and when she pressed too much he claimed it was a secret. The man
was a bit touched in the head, that was certain, but he was useful
and obedient. If he wanted to think he was a sabre that was his
problem. Perhaps it was that conviction that made him so
invincible.

Instead of
pursuing the useless questions, she studied him. Now that she knew
what to look for, she found scars running up the sides of his neck,
continuing as lines of white hair over his scalp before becoming
pale scars again along his cheekbones. One ran down the centre of
his forehead, ending halfway down his nose, and two traced the edge
of his jaw to the centre of his chin, ending just under his lower
lip. More scars ran up the centre of his chest and sides of his
torso, disappearing under his trousers, where she assumed they
continued down his legs. She wondered what sort of barbarians would
cut open a healthy man to reinforce his bones. No wonder he was
mad.

Chapter Five

The next day,
they set off towards the Barrier Mountains once more, Tassin
refreshed after a night on a soft bed and a hot meal. The brisk
air, bright sunshine and scenic countryside made the journey
pleasant, so long as she did not dwell on dark thoughts. The narrow
trail they followed cut through tracts of cultivated orchards and
occasional clumps of wild woodland, but for the most part it was
open pasture. Rare parrot shrubs were in full bloom, their
beak-like flowers chattering and clicking as the sun heated the
hard petals. Snow trees shed drifting, gossamer seed-flakes that
whitened the land for miles around. Mage bushes made soft pops and
little flashes of light as the seed pods exploded in the warmth,
releasing clouds of drifting winged seeds. Flocks of jewel birds
flew up at their approach, filling the air with their glittering,
iridescent-plumed forms and melodic cries. Sabre appeared oblivious
to it all, and when she commented on the scenery in an attempt to
start a conversation, he simply agreed with her, volunteering
nothing. He was a dull companion, she decided. Rude and dull, but
useful.

Tassin studied
him again. His high brow indicated intelligence, unlike the
close-set eyes and sloping brows of dull-witted peasants with their
coarse features and wide, slack-lipped mouths. The magic he wielded
required skill, yet he seemed wholly intent on some inner problem
that she could not fathom.

After that,
they rode in silence, which Tassin found tiresome, since it allowed
her to dwell on her future. She had resolved to find an ally in
King Xavier, and any other, less pleasant prospect did not bear
contemplation. King Xavier would protect her. With this firmly
established as her future, she shrugged off any other
possibilities. Her father had taught her the politics of ruling a
kingdom, but he had not foreseen his sudden demise and its perilous
result, so he had not prepared her for this eventuality. She did
not doubt that the king of a poor kingdom like Olgara would be glad
of an alliance with the largest and most powerful kingdom in the
land, albeit that Arlin's military might was now somewhat weakened.
Her father had planned that she should wed a noble of her choosing,
and once that was achieved, she would no longer be prey to the
three horrid kings.