The Cyber Chronicles VII - Sabre (15 page)

"Hmm. Perhaps.
I am still waiting for an answer."

"Yes."
Sharmian studied his boots again. "What part of 'I am Torrian's
puppet' did you not understand?"

"He dictates
everything you do?"

"Absolutely.
And he has promised to find me a suitable wife."

"Ah, his
cousin, I will wager. A plump, plain woman easily ten years your
senior, and a widow to boot. Some say she poisoned her
husband."

Sharmian
winced inwardly, hoping it did not show, and frowned at his
boots.

"It would be
such a shame to see a handsome young king like yourself wed to such
a harpy."

"It is not as
if I have a choice. I do as he says, or lose my kingdom."

Tassin waved
the rose. "You always have a choice. You just have to exercise
it."

"Once more you
are urging me to help you."

She shook her
head. "No indeed, I am not. I am urging you to follow your heart if
you want happiness, as I did."

He sighed,
gazing across the garden. "I cannot choose my wife, so there is no
point in following my heart. And in any case, my being fond of Dena
does not necessarily mean I wish to wed her."

"But if you
decide to help me and our plans bear fruit, you will be free to
choose."

"Adding a
little extra incentive to sweeten the bitter cup?"

"Why is it a
bitter cup, My Lord?" Tassin plucked a white rose and sniffed
it.

"Because if I
help you, scores, nay hundreds of my countrymen will die."

"Ah yes, one
of the penalties of war. Life is full of risks, though. When I went
out into the stars to find Sabre, I could have been killed, and I
lost my kingdom as a result. These risks I knew about, and I was
prepared to take to get him back. I would do it again in a
heartbeat."

"But you only
risked yourself," he said. "I will be ordering thousands of men to
fight and die to free me from Torrian's yoke."

"It is their
battle too. They also suffer because of him. If you asked them, you
would find them eager to fight. Thousands died to save me from
marrying Torrian, and some of my knights thought me a fool, yet
still they did it, because I am their queen. They would fight for
you just because you are their king, but they have a stake in this
too. If you feel badly about it, ask for volunteers."

He frowned at
the flowerbed. "There are parts of your plan that I dislike."

"I am open to
suggestions. We will be equal partners in this venture, so you have
a say in it."

"This idea of
you going back to Arlin to claim your throne while I provide a
distraction to draw Torrian away from your castle. You will be
leaving me vulnerable. When he finds out what has happened, he will
wipe us out in revenge, and you will be too far away to help."

She inclined
her head. "I will send messengers to my generals who accompany him
at the same time as his spies will send messengers to inform him of
my return to power. They will join your side."

"And what if
you fail?"

"Then we will
all die."

He nodded.
"That is what I thought."

"But we have
the same thing to gain if we win. Our kingdoms."

"Even with
your warrior mage's magic, do you really think you can fight your
way into Dellon's castle and confront him?"

Tassin plucked
petals from the rose, revealing a modicum of agitation. "Yes. It is
risky, I admit, but I have gone up against greater odds and won
with Sabre. He is a one-man army."

"His magic is
impressive, I will grant you, but it will only take a single spear
or arrow, or sword thrust, to kill him."

"No, he is
pretty much invulnerable to such things. He can also see through
walls, and is stronger than ten men."

"Really? Now
you test my credulity, and my patience. Wild claims will not sway
me."

Tassin smiled.
"There is nothing wild about them, My Lord."

"Prove
it."

"All right. Do
you gamble?"

"I have been
known to lay gold on the horses and cards from time to time."

"Then let us
make a wager,” she said. “I will wager that Sabre will prove he is
all that I claim, and when he does, you will give me your
help."

"And if he
does not, I will not."

"Precisely."

Sharmian
considered. "If you are prepared to risk everything upon his
abilities, you must be telling the truth. In which case, I will
lose."

"I could be
bluffing."

"You could,
but I do not think so. I will not take your wager, My Lady, but if
you can prove your claim, it will sway me in your favour."

Tassin sighed,
looking frustrated. "You are a clever man. I dislike clever men,
they annoy me."

"Is your
warrior mage a dolt, then? You clearly like him."

"No, his
knowledge awes me, and he never uses it to frustrate or embarrass
me."

"And I do not
like being cornered by scheming women, not even lovely queens such
as yourself."

Tassin nodded,
plucking the last of the petals from the mutilated rose. "Who could
corner such a slippery eel as you, My Lord?"

"Not you,
apparently."

She tossed
away the flower. "When first we met, I thought you might be a
little weak, but now I see that you are just not as strong as
Torrian, which is no insult, for he is a brute. You must hate his
hold over you with a white-hot fury."

"I do."

"And yet you
present yourself as a mild-mannered fop to fool those around you
into believing that you are harmless, so if you must, you can
strike with impunity. Rather like a snake in the grass. You do not
see it until you are dead."

Sharmian
smiled. "And you, Queen Tassin, appear to be nothing more than a
lovely, sweet young lady, with your wide, innocent eyes pleading
for aid. But beneath that velvet and satin lurks a mind as sharp as
a razor and a determination that would put a donkey to shame. You
will attempt this madness even without my help, will you not?"

"Yes."

"Show me what
your warrior mage can do." Sharmian looked past her at Sabre, who
emerged from the castle, and she glanced around.

"Very
well."

Tassin
beckoned to Sabre, and slipped her hand into his when he arrived
beside her. "King Sharmian does not believe that you can see
through walls."

"I can't."

She frowned.
"Of course you can."

"Not if
they're made of stone."

"Right.” She
looked chagrined. “But you can see people we cannot see, in the
distance."

"Yes."

She turned to
gaze at the castle. "Apart from that old gardener, I cannot see
anyone from here, can you, King Sharmian?"

"No."

"So how many
people can you see, Sabre?"

He glanced
back at the castle. "There are four men in the stable yard,
presumably mucking out the stalls. Two people are approaching from
the east, along that road." He pointed to a belt of trees whence a
road emerged. "There's a man in the forest, over there, and fifteen
deer within my range, beyond those trees, as well as two men in the
guardhouse."

"That could be
pure guesswork," Sharmian said.

Sabre
shrugged. "But it isn't. The two people on the road will be
emerging from behind those trees... now."

Sharmian
stared at the belt of trees as two peasants came into view,
trudging along the road, carrying bundles. "The cook and his
assistant, coming back from the village." He looked bemused. "How
do you do that?"

"Magic."

He faced
Sabre. "Your queen tells me that you are as strong as ten men."

"More like
four. You want me to prove that, too?"

The King
considered, studying him. "No. I think you are telling the truth.
How is Dena?"

"Resting."

"And still you
are not going to tell me what has upset her."

"Nope."

"Is she afraid
that I will not help you?"

"You'd have to
ask her."

Sharmian
sighed. "It must be that. She is afraid that she will never be able
to return to her home, or that Torrian will hunt you all down and
execute you. This time she will share your fate, not merely be sent
to a lowly countess as governess to her great-grandchildren."

Sabre glanced
at Tassin, who shook her head, then turned her attention to
Sharmian once more. "Possibly a combination of all three, My
Lord."

"I dislike
secrets, and, if you want my help, I suggest you be more
forthcoming."

"You are
trying to force me to betray Dena?" Tassin asked.

"I assure you,
her secret is safe with me."

"But you are
the one she does not wish to know."

"Why?"
Sharmian threw up his hands in frustration. "What could she
possibly want to hide only from me, and what is so terrible that it
sends her running to her room in tears? What have I done?"

"It is not
what you have done, but what you may do, should you learn it."

"What I may
do? I do not understand."

"You are a
clever man, work it out. Countess De'vorice does not have any
great-grandchildren."

Sharmian
frowned. "So she was a servant? A lady-in-waiting to a countess?
Humiliating, but hardly damning. Does she think I will despise her
for accepting such a lowly position? She was ousted, for pity's
sake. Her fate was deplorable, but I would not blame her for it.
What kind of a bastard does she take me for?"

Tassin raised
her brows. "She thinks you are a very nice bastard, actually. A
handsome one, too."

He hesitated,
then smiled, shaking his head. "Touché. But how can I reassure her
if I do not know what it is she fears I might do something terrible
about?"

"Then you
should ask her, not us."

"Will she tell
me?"

Tassin
shrugged. "If you try hard enough to persuade her, possibly."

Sharmian
inclined his head. "Then if you will excuse me, I will go and talk
to her."

Chapter Eleven

Sharmian
tapped on Dena's door, growing more frustrated when silence
answered him. When he had met her at his coronation, he had been
drawn to her in a way he could not explain. Many lovely ladies had
vied for his attention that night, and, although she was not as
pretty as them, she had a spark they lacked. He also suspected them
of scheming to entrap him for his crown, while Dena had seemed
unimpressed. Her slight deformity had escaped his notice until they
had danced, and afterwards he had become aware of her reluctance to
take to the floor. He was the only one she had danced with, but he
had assumed that it was because he was the host, and she had not
been able to politely refuse. He had found her conversation
interesting and lively, her laughter infectious, and her manner
demure without the false coyness so many ladies possessed.

This had made
him invite her to stay when the other guests left, and to his
surprise, she had accepted. Over the next three days he had got to
know her, and her departure had left him saddened, his castle
empty. He had written to her, and received long, interesting
missives in return, which had ended when Dellon ousted her. He had
sent an invitation for her to join him, but received no reply, and
the ensuing three years had been empty ones.

Sharmian had
grown bitter at her neglect of their friendship and refusal to
answer his letters, and stopped writing after a few months. Her
arrival the day before had been a shock, but her prior behaviour
diluted his happiness at seeing her again. Now she kept some
terrible secret from him, but shared it with Sabre and Tassin,
which angered him. Because of something he might do? What about
what she had done to him? It was time she told him why she had not
replied to his letters or accepted his invitation. She owed him an
explanation. He pushed open the door and walked in.

Dena sat on
the window seat, staring out at the hills. Her eyes were swollen
and red, and she clutched a crumpled handkerchief. The obvious
signs of her weeping made him hesitate, but he dismissed his doubts
and approached her. She looked up at him, averting her eyes
hastily.

"Please go
away, Sharmian."

"Not until you
tell me what is wrong."

"No. It's...
none of your business."

"You owe me an
explanation,” Sharmian said. “Why did you not accept my invitation
to come here after you were deposed? Why did you not answer any of
my letters after that?"

"I never
received them."

"Ah." He
paused, frowning. Nothing quite like having the rug completely
pulled out from under him with one short sentence. "But you could
have written to me anyway."

"No, I
couldn't."

"Why not? They
would not allow you?" He studied her profile.

"That's
right."

"And yet you
were able to come here with Queen Tassin. How was she able to see
you without being recognised?"

"She wasn't.
Sabre came and got me."

"So... no one
recognised him."

"No one saw
him."

"Ah, right."
Sharmian nodded. "So... you are upset because you were the
countess' servant? You think I will despise you for it?"

"I know you're
not..." She hesitated. "Yes, that's it."

"You know I am
not that petty." He hesitated, realising that that was what she had
been going to say. "Why are you lying to me?"

She looked
down at the handkerchief. "Stop interrogating me. Sabre just spent
half an hour calming me down. Do you want to make me cry
again?"

"No. I want to
know what the problem is, so we can solve it."

"We
can't."

"How do you
know if you will not tell me?"

"I know."

He shook his
head. "You do not know me that well. Do not presume to be able to
predict me. I know it is something you think I will revile or
despise you for, yet I cannot think of a single thing that would
make me do that."