The Cyber Chronicles VI - Warrior Breed (24 page)

In addition,
on a warship with a crew of several hundred, there was little for
him to do, and she had sensed his boredom for the last couple of
days. Her attempts at conversation had been met with gentle smiles
and single-syllable, noncommittal answers, from which she had
deduced that he was not in a mood for talking. His mood had been
hard to fathom, but he was certainly withdrawn. Since the precious
episode after the battle, which she had feared would be a once-off
aberration, he had joined her in her bed every night and fallen
asleep holding her. She wondered if she had become a comforter for
him, since he was always asleep within minutes of lying beside her
and drawing her into his arms. She did not care, as long as he
wanted to be close to her. She would be whatever he needed, for as
long as he needed it.

She switched
off the vidbook and stood up. "I'll come with you."

"I don't need
company."

"That's not
why I'm coming."

Sabre shrugged
and headed for the door.

In the combat
room, several young warriors stopped sparring and lowered their
weapons when he walked in.

Sabre jerked
his head at the door. "Out."

They started
to file out, then paused in the doorway, where one said, "If you'd
like a sparring partner, we'd be honoured, Commander."

"No."

The door slid
shut behind them, and Tassin leant against the wall beside it and
watched Sabre strip off his vest. He was clad once more in his
cyber-issue clothes, which were a little ragged in places now. She
often wondered why he insisted on wearing them, since he hated
being a cyber so much and they were a constant reminder. Their
stretchiness was probably part of the reason, for he needed that,
and perhaps also their camouflage quality, but that did not seem
sufficient reason when weighed against the terrible memories that
must come with them. The scars from his most recent wounds were
still red and angry-looking, and Tassin let her eyes roam over his
perfectly formed physique, every muscle defined and
symmetrical.

Sabre walked
to the centre of the room and took up a spread-legged stance,
beginning a series of slow, flowing movements, his hands relaxed.
At first he worked only his upper body, muscles writhing under his
skin. Tassin's mouth fell open when he bent slowly over backwards
until he could place his palms flat on the floor, his spine bent at
what seemed to her to be an impossibly sharp curve. With the same
slow, controlled grace, he kicked off with his feet and lifted his
legs into a perfect handstand, his balance impeccable.

After a pause,
he folded his legs and lowered them in front of him, straightening
them at the halfway point and continuing downwards until they
passed his shoulders and were parallel to the floor. He held the
pose for several minutes, then spread his legs wide and lowered
himself to the floor in a split, making it look easy. Bending, he
reached out to touch first one foot, then the other, showing
remarkable suppleness as he touched his brow to each knee.

****

Atrel swung
around as a young warrior hurried onto the bridge, panting a
little, his eyes excited.

"What is
it?"

"Switch to the
combat room cameras, First Lieutenant."

"Is there a
fight?"

"No. The
commander's in there."

Atrel stopped
with his hand poised over the control panel. "So why must we spy on
him? Is he alone?"

"No, the
female ward is with him."

Atrel frowned.
"How dare you -?"

"No, it's not
like that. We've been watching him. He's doing training
exercises."

Atrel pressed
a key and studied the picture that formed on the screen. The young
warrior watched over his shoulder, and other officers gathered
around. Noticing the audience, Atrel routed the image to the main
screen, and everyone turned to watch.

Atrel folded
his arms. "This is not training. It's just a fitness routine."

An officer
winced as Sabre did the splits. "A painful one, by the looks of it.
How does that enhance his fighting abilities?"

Atrel
shrugged. "You'd have to ask him that."

****

Sabre sat up
and crossed his legs, then glanced around at Tassin. "Come
here."

She wandered
over to him. "What is it?"

"There are no
weights here. I could use your help."

"What should I
do?"

Sabre
stretched forward and straightened his legs until his entire body
was supported on his hands and toes. "Sit on my back."

After a
momentary hesitation, Tassin seated herself in a ladylike
manner.

"Lift up your
legs too," he said.

She tucked her
legs up beside her, wobbled a bit and clung to his shoulders.

"That's it,"
he murmured. "Now don't fall off."

"What are you
going to do?"

"Nothing
dramatic, just hold on."

Tassin leant
forward and wound her arms around his neck, glad of a reason to be
close to him, and unable to resist planting a kiss on the side of
his brow. He smiled, shifted his weight and lifted one hand off the
floor, holding it at his side. Tassin giggled with amazement as he
slowly lowered himself until his nose almost touched the floor,
then raised himself again. He did it ten times, then ten more using
the other arm, his skin growing warm. Switching arms again, he
continued at a faster speed.

"You're not
heavy enough," he remarked.

"How much can
you lift like this?"

"About four
times what you weight."

"And how many
times can you do it?"

He grunted.
"Too many. It would get very boring."

"Perhaps you
should ask Atrel to send a few strapping warriors to stand on your
back for you."

"Nah, I don't
really want them to know too much."

Tassin tapped
her fingers on his shoulder. "Can you still do it if I tickle
you?"

"Tickle?"

"You don't
know what tickling is?"

"No, never
heard of it."

"Then you
don't know if you're ticklish."

"Nope."

Tassin waited
until he lowered himself again, and then tickled his ribs. Sabre's
chest hit the floor with a thud, and she fell off, giggling. He
rolled onto his back, held his ribs and chuckled.

"That was...
interesting."

"So, you're
ticklish." She sat up and grinned.

"So it would
seem."

"I'll remember
that."

"Fiendish
woman."

Tassin brushed
back her hair. "Show me what you can really do."

He rolled onto
his side and supported himself on one elbow. "What do you
mean?"

"Amaze
me."

"Amaze you.
How can I do that?"

"Impress me,
then."

His brows
rose. "Ah."

"Wouldn't you
like to impress your bride-to-be? Show off a little?"

He smiled. "I
haven't asked you yet."

"A mere
formality. We both know you will."

"Do we?"

"Stop teasing,
or I'll tickle you to death."

"Okay. What
would you like me to do?"

She pondered.
"How high can you jump?"

"About four
metres."

"Show me."

He glanced up.
"The ceiling's only about three and a half metres high."

"All right,
show me something else."

"Like
what?"

"I don't know,
anything. What about those acrobatic moves you do when you're
fighting?"

"Okay." He
rose and held out his hand, helping her to her feet. "Go stand by
the wall."

Tassin obeyed,
and he took up a stance on one side of the room, legs together this
time. Raising his arms above his head, he took a few running steps
and performed a series of handsprings, each one higher than the
last, twisting at the apex of the last two somersaults, his legs
and arms held straight. Tassin's mouth fell open as he reached the
wall and ran up it almost to the ceiling. He kicked himself away,
performed a backward somersault and landed on his feet. He
continued with a series of backward handsprings, then bounced back
into a forward handspring. Tassin closed her mouth when he stopped
and straightened, resisting the urge to applaud.

"How was
that?"

She nodded.
"Impressive."

"Really?" He
grinned, looking as pleased as a schoolboy who had just scored a
goal in a game of knee-ball.

"Do some
more."

Sabre spread
his arms and dropped sideways into a cartwheel, stopped in a
handstand and brought his legs together. Lowering himself until his
head brushed the floor, he pushed himself up with his arms,
performed a jack-knife and landed on his feet, then dropped into a
forward roll. Landing on his back and catching himself with his
feet, he raised his legs and flung them forward, performing the
peculiar twist that brought him upright with an ease that defied
gravity.

Tassin could
not resist clapping this time, and his delighted grin filled her
with happiness and pride to see him so pleased with her
appreciation of the abilities the torturers on Myon Two had so
painfully bestowed upon him.

He performed a
sweeping bow. "You're easily amused, My Lady."

"Not in the
least, My Lord, you are truly a wonder to behold."

Sabre raised
his arms and dived into a forward handspring, landing on his feet
mere centimetres from her. His breathing was normal, and as yet he
had not even broken a sweat. Taking her hand, he raised it to his
lips and kissed the back of it.

"I am yours to
command, My Queen."

"Spar with
me."

His brows
almost vanished under the brow band. "With you? You're
kidding."

"No. I'm a
trained sword fighter, remember?"

"I don't doubt
it, but -"

"Are you
afraid you'll hurt me?" she asked.

"No, I'm
afraid you'll hurt yourself."

She pulled her
hand from his and folded her arms. "I'm insulted. Didn’t you just
say you were mine to command?"

"Yeah, but..."
He glanced at the weapons on the walls. "Those things are sharp,
you know."

"I know."

He tilted his
head, smiling. "Unarmed combat?"

She snorted,
raising her chin. "You're stronger than me. That wouldn't be
fair."

"And you think
it would be fair if we had swords?"

"Fairer."

His smile
widened. "No, it wouldn't. I'll teach you how to defend yourself.
Would you like that?"

"I know how to
defend myself."

"Okay. Show
me."

"You'll have
to attack me."

Sabre pulled a
wry face and held out his hand. "Okay, come." He led her into the
centre of the room and released her, looking amused. "Right, so
you're the Queen of Arlin, walking home from the pub after a night
on the town, and I'm a villain."

"The queens of
Arlin don't go to pubs."

"Okay, you're
a scullery maid walking home from a pub after a night on the
town."

She folded her
arms. "I'm not a scullery maid."

"What are you
then?"

"A rich lord,
with a heavy purse."

"You're a
woman. How can you be a lord?"

"This is
make-believe, isn't it?"

He smiled
again. "All right, a rich lord you are. Walk."

Tassin turned
and wandered across the combat room, her stomach tight with
anticipation, her palms damp and her heart pounding. The prospect
of pitting her puny skills against a cyber exhilarated her, and
even though she knew she had no chance of winning, she wanted to
show him that she could defend herself, at least against a normal
man.

A light touch
on her right arm made her swing around, fists raised. An arm swept
around her waist from the other side, then she was on her back, her
head cushioned by Sabre's hand. He straddled her, and his hands
flashed across to grab her wrists and pin them to the floor beside
her head before she could recover from her surprise.

He smiled down
at her. "Your purse is forfeit, My Lord."

"That wasn't
fair!"

"You expected
it to be?"

"You tricked
me!"

He cocked his
head, chuckling. "Okay. Let's do it again, and this time I won't
distract you."

Sabre stood
up, pulling her to her feet. She tossed back her hair and walked
away. This time there was no warning at all, but the end result was
identical.

She glared up
at him. "Perhaps this isn't the best scenario."

"What do you
have in mind?"

"It's no good
if you sneak up on me from behind like that. Come at me from the
front."

"Ah.
Okay."

Sabre got up
and pulled her to her feet again, and she brushed imaginary dust
from her sleeve. He tilted his head, his eyes sparkling with
gentleness that made her heart ache.

"Ready?"

She nodded,
raising her hands, then found herself on her back again with Sabre
straddling her, pinning her wrists beside her head.

"How was
that?"

"Very funny.
You moved too fast."

He laughed.
"So you want me to move slow enough so you can hit me?"

"I thought you
were teaching me how to defend myself?"

"No, you were
showing me you can."

"Okay, maybe
not against you."

Sabre jumped
up and pulled her to her feet. "Maybe not, my little warrior
queen."

"You have a
slight advantage."

"Just a little
one." He held up two fingers, about a centimetre apart.

"You didn't
give me a chance!"

"Okay, I'll
give you a chance. Hit me."

"No. I don't
want to hurt you."

He chuckled.
"You won't, I promise."

"Of course I
will, if I hit you."

He took her
hand. "Your hand is too fragile to even give me a bruise. You would
break your bones before you did."