The Cyber Chronicles - Book I: Queen of Arlin (15 page)

His brow band
flashed. "Not on this planet." Sabre's head tilted upwards, and, to
her surprise, he pointed at the stars that sprinkled the night sky.
"Myon Two is in that constellation, a cluster of bright stars."

Tassin gaped at
him, then burst out laughing. "A good jest, Sabre. I did not think
you had humour. The gods live in the stars, not men."

Sabre stared
through her, and she shook her head, abandoning that line of
questioning, since he clearly did not wish to tell her where he was
from. Instead she asked, "What will happen when your ammunition
runs out?"

"Primitive
weapons may be substituted, but a loss of efficiency will
result."

"So you will
need a sword? Can you use one?"

"Yes. Cybers
are trained in all weapons."

Tassin nodded,
digging in the packs for some dried meat, since her rabbit had been
lost. "Are those wolves still in the forest?"

"No. They have
circled to the east."

She shot him a
nervous glance. "Are they coming closer?"

"They are now
out of scanner range."

"They are
moving ahead of us, probably for an ambush. The pass through the
mountains is to the east."

"Then another
route should be taken." He took a piece of meat and tore at it.

"The only other
pass through the mountains is to the west, and too steep for
horses. It is called Devil's Run, and no one uses it. If we go that
way, we will have to leave the horses behind. Then we will be on
foot, and it is a long way to the nearest town on the other side.
From the pass, you have to travel west along the edge of the
mountains for about a hundred kilometres, I think. I thought you
could deal with the wolves?"

"Some damage
may result."

"Oh." She
swallowed the last of her meat and reached for the water skin. "But
I do not want to walk a hundred kilometres."

Tassin scowled,
remembering what Mother Amy had said. He was not even a real man,
yet he was presuming to give her advice? Okay, he had been right
about the wolves, but she was not going to walk that distance just
because he was afraid of getting hurt. She was a queen, and he
would do as she said.

"We will go
through the main pass."

Sabre continued
to eat, and she smiled, recalling Mother Amy's comment about him
making a good husband. Well, he certainly did not argue, yet
somehow the blind obedience also irritated her. There were times
when she wished that he would argue, even if just to liven up the
conversation.

The next
morning, they set off for the main pass, moving along the mountain
range until they came across the busy road that led to it and
joined the stream of traffic. Tassin set a brisk pace, overtaking
ox carts and heavy wagons laden with produce on its way to market
in Olgara. Fewer carts journeyed into Arlin, carrying spices, rich
cloth and the pungent cheeses that were made in the borderland
kingdom. Cheerful drovers waved to them as they passed, and the
gypsies who camped beside the road in their brightly painted wagons
sold food and drink from makeshift stalls. Tassin enjoyed the
relaxed atmosphere of the broad road and its people, who shared the
affinity of travellers. They made good progress until Sabre stopped
at midday, forcing Tassin to do the same, and she frowned at
him.

"What is wrong
now?"

"There is an
ambush two kilometres ahead, the wolves are there."

"They are going
to ambush us on the road, in broad daylight?"

"Yes."

Tassin made an
angry gesture. "But there are people around, and wagons."

"That makes no
difference. They will not help."

"So what are
you going to do?"

He turned his
head and closed his eyes in a slow blink, something he did, she
realised, when she gave him stupid orders, or asked foolish
questions. "Go around."

Sabre guided
his horse off the road, and Falcon followed. They rode through
farmlands for almost two hours, crossed a wooded stream and
surprised a few farmers in their fields. When they re-joined the
road, Sabre assured her that they were beyond the ambush. Half an
hour later, the urgent clatter of a galloping horse behind them
startled Tassin, who looked around. Sabre turned his head, and the
brow band flashed. A long-legged, speedy-looking chestnut horse
overhauled them, pulling up alongside. The freckle-faced,
red-haired young man who rode it smiled and called a greeting,
which Tassin returned with rather less enthusiasm. The youth
laughed and swept off his hat in an extravagant courtly
gesture.

"My apologies,
my lady! I did not mean to startle you. My horse is in need of a
rest, and I thought to entertain myself with some idle chatter
while he does so. I hope you don't mind if I ride with you for a
little while?"

Tassin smiled
and relaxed, charmed by his good manners and evident breeding. He
seemed to be neither a soldier nor a rogue, and if he was, Sabre
would deal with him. His merry brown eyes sparkled with jollity,
and his cheerful demeanour was a refreshing change after days of
Sabre's dour company.

"Indeed, good
sir, do join us. The road is long and quiet."

"Oh yes, dead
boring! Allow me to introduce myself. I am Algar Bonning, son of
Lord Bonning of Bryon's Way."

"Well met, Sir
Bonning. I am Lady Dallon of Miller's Rest," Tassin fabricated.
"This is my man-at-arms, Sabre."

Algar saluted
Sabre, grinning. "Pleased to meet you, Lady Dallon, Goodman
Sabre."

Sabre ignored
him, and Tassin smiled. "Sabre is a man of few words."

"So I hear!"
Algar laughed. "A fine pair of horses you have. Particularly yours,
my lady. A stallion, is it not?"

"Indeed it is.
He is very well trained." Tassin was well aware that ladies did not
usually ride spirited stallions, especially astride, as she
did.

"A courageous
lady you must be, to ride a stallion."

Tassin laughed
at the bold flattery, liking the young lordling. "I enjoy a
spirited horse, Sir Algar."

Algar studied
the animals, obviously a connoisseur of horseflesh. "Is that not
the breed they use as warhorses, my lady?"

"That is right,
a useful breed, though not cut out for speed as yours is. He is a
handsome animal."

Algar swelled
with pride and stroked his mount’s arched, sweaty neck. "Ah, yes, a
wonderful horse. A gelding, regrettably. My father breeds them for
speed you know, and he is justly proud of his stock. They are used
for racing all over the country, and in great demand."

Tassin smiled.
"I can see that he is fast, does he also have stamina?"

"Oh yes, I can
travel from Bryon's Way to the pass in one day, and from there to
Olgara in another."

"Impressive
indeed. Perhaps I will buy some of your father's horses someday.
Tell me, are you going to Olgara?"

"I am, my lady.
I ride upon my father's business. He is negotiating to sell horses
to a man in Olgara. In fact, one of the reasons for my trip is to
prove to the buyer the speed and stamina of these horses. You see,
I came from Olgara two days ago, and now I return after only one
day's rest, so he may see that my horse can do it."

The young
lordling's smile faded somewhat. "I just hope those damn ... I beg
your pardon, my lady. King Torrian's soldiers are blockading the
pass. They are searching every wagon and carriage for Queen Tassin,
whom he wishes to capture. It causes a terrible delay, and I spent
many hours waiting in the line. I hope that they have gone
now."

Tassin looked
away, as if studying the passing scenery, to hide her dismay. Algar
apparently deduced that she was bored with the conversation, for he
said, "Well, my horse has rested, so I shall take my leave, Lady
Dallon."

Tassin bestowed
a weak smile upon him as he swept off his hat and spurred his horse
on. As soon as he had vanished around the next bend, she reined
Falcon in.

"We cannot go
through the pass, Sabre."

"No."

Tassin gazed
after Algar, listening to the fading sound of his horse's hoof
beats as they came faintly on the wind. If only she could ride
through as easily as he. Damn Torrian! A disguise would not work,
the soldiers would be doubly suspicious of a man and a woman riding
together, and the horses were a dead give-away. They could sell the
warhorses and buy others, even ride through the pass separately,
but it would be difficult to hide her looks. Her dark blue eyes
were unusual and distinctive, and her black hair could not be dyed,
since there was no darker colour. Even if Sabre wore a hood to
cover the brow band, it could easily be discovered. If the troops
were being as thorough as Algar said, there was a good chance of
detection.

Tassin turned
off the road and headed west along the mountain range. They would
have to use Devil's Run. Sabre rode beside her, and Tassin was glad
that he was not likely to gloat over her mistake. The prospect of
using the dangerous pass frightened her, and she hoped that it was
not as bad as she had heard.

Chapter Eight

For four days,
they rode along the foothills of the Barrier Mountains. Sabre
hunted every afternoon, shooting rabbits for their supper, although
he once said that it was a waste of ammunition. Tassin shrugged it
off, she enjoyed the fresh meat. Once they came across a shepherd's
hut, and spent the night under a roof, but mostly they slept in the
scrubby clumps of stunted horse-tail trees that dotted the slopes.
Tassin relaxed again, thinking that they had given her pursuers the
slip, but Sabre remained vigilant, and she enjoyed the journey a
little. Certainly the scenery was spectacular. The mountains
towered over them, their snow-clad peaks often clothed in wind-torn
clouds like flags of cotton wool. Sunshine bathed the verdant
foothills, although the air was chilly as autumn gave way to
winter.

On the fifth
afternoon, they reached the entrance to a deep, sheer-walled canyon
that cut into the mountain range, and Tassin recognised it from the
drawings that she had seen on maps. The horses could go no further,
and the prospect of saying goodbye to Falcon tore her heart. There
was one final command she could give him, which would ensure his
freedom until she might one day reclaim him and prevent him from
trying to follow her. She unsaddled him and stroked his muzzle when
he butted her, impatient to graze the lush grass. At least he and
the mare would not go hungry, for even in winter there was grass
here. A year or so from now, there would be three of them.

As she slipped
off the bridle, Tassin murmured, "Ware, Falcon."

Falcon pricked
his ears and stared at her. The command meant that he must let no
stranger approach him, and remain behind when she left. It was
designed to prevent enemies from injuring picketed warhorses, and
he had not been given that command since he had been in training
ten years before. He tossed his head and trotted away, soon
stopping to graze beside the mare. He would protect the mare too,
she was sure.

Tassin plodded
to the sheltering rocks, where Sabre built a fire. The prospect of
the long walk on the far side of the mountains depressed her, and
she wished that they could ride through Devil's Run. Flopping down
beside the fledgling fire, Tassin watched Sabre set up camp with
his unflagging efficiency. Although he was a dour companion, she
was becoming accustomed to his terse ways. He had killed two
rabbits that afternoon, and cleaned and skinned them.

Tassin studied
Sabre, fascinated by his half fierce, half gentle looks. His hair
had grown a little, which improved his appearance and made the
white hair that grew from the thin scars on his scalp more
prominent. His face was unlined for a man in his mid-twenties, but
then, he lacked any expression that would cause them. His skin had
darkened in the sun, and glowed with health. The harness and
trousers were a bit worn now, but in surprisingly good condition,
considering. She wore a warm coat in the growing chill, and there
was another in the packs for him, purchased in the last village for
the journey over the mountains. Even the main pass, where the road
zigzagged up the mountain in a series of torturous switchbacks, it
became extremely cold at the top, and Devil's Run would be
worse.

The Queen let
her gaze drift to the green slopes, which darkened as night fell,
and pondered her situation. She was about to embark on a dangerous
journey through this ill-fated pass, into an unknown land,
disguised as a commoner. A magical warrior accompanied her, and
enchanted wolves pursued her. Someday, she thought wryly, she would
have some good tales to tell her children as she dandled them on
her knee before the fire. Her husband, an obscure figure in her
dream, would sit and listen too, while Sabre stood in the corner.
The smell of roasting rabbit drew her from her reverie, and she sat
up to watch Sabre turning the spits.

"Sabre, have
you ever thought about having children?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Cybers do not
have children."

Tassin plucked
a blade of grass and chewed it. "Your parents had you, were they
not warriors too?"

"No."

"What happens
when you grow too old to be a warrior?"

"The control
unit is transferred to a new host body."

Her brows rose.
"What happens to the old body?"

"It is
destroyed."

Tassin spat out
the grass. "How many ... err, bodies, have you had?"

"Unknown."

"Do you not
remember?"

"Memories are
stored in the biological brain, therefore the cyber has no memory
of prior hosts."

Tassin listened
to the distant snorts of the grazing horses, pondering his strange
words. An eerie quiet hung in the still air, and not even the wind
sighed through the canyon. The movement of Sabre's brow band caught
her attention, a sparkle of light in the gathering darkness. His
head jerked up, and he turned to stare down the slope. Her neck
hairs rose.