The Cyber Chronicles - Book I: Queen of Arlin (16 page)

"They come." He
stood up.

Tassin leapt to
her feet. "We will have to catch the horses!"

"No. Up the
mountain."

Sabre picked up
the cloth sack containing the salted meat and tossed in the
half-cooked rabbits. Swiftly he gathered up their equipment and
stuffed it into the two bags, which he tied to his harness and
slung over his shoulders. Tassin stared down slope, straining to
see something in the gloom. Sabre stamped out the fire and grabbed
her arm, jerked her around and dragged her towards the
mountain.

"Let me go!
There is no need to grab me all the time, I can keep up, Sabre!"
Tassin tried to free herself.

Sabre clambered
over the first rocks, ignoring her struggles. The canyon walls
loomed over them, growing higher as they moved deeper into it.
Tassin tripped and would have fallen, but for Sabre's grip on her
arm. He jerked her upright, and she realised that her struggles
were only hampering him, so she concentrated on keeping up instead.
The canyon narrowed, steep slabs of rock hemming them in. The only
way was up, and she had no doubt that the wolves had reached the
entrance by now.

An hour passed
in a blur of panting, scrabbling desperation as she struggled over
jagged rocks, barking shins, hands and elbows, stubbing toes and
tearing fingernails. Her lungs burnt as she gasped the cold air,
for the temperature dropped as they climbed higher. Sabre dragged
her along, his grip bruising her arm, but her legs burnt and her
muscles had lost their strength.

"Sabre, stop!"
she gasped. "I have to rest, stop!"

Sabre turned to
her, the brow band flickering. Releasing her arm, he stepped around
her to face down the canyon. Grey shapes ran over the rocks towards
them in the moonlight. He raised his arm, and a brilliant streak of
light sliced through the darkness, momentarily illuminating the
canyon and the wolves. The laser bolt hit the rocks close to one of
the animals with a crack and flash, causing it to veer. Sabre fired
twice more, once rewarded by a howl of pain, but the elusive wolves
moved too fast, and dodged amongst the rocks, their claws
scrabbling on the stone.

Sabre wedged
himself into the rocks down slope and waited. The lead wolf
appeared from behind a rock and leapt at Sabre's throat. He fired
point blank, slicing the animal in two. A second wolf attacked and
died. The other three hung back amongst the rocks, waiting for him
to turn his back. Sabre picked up loose rocks and hurled them into
the shadows, and a yelp of pain and the scrape of claws rewarded
his efforts as the wolves retreated. He turned to climb again,
grasped her arm and dragged her after him.

The wolves gave
chase, whining with eagerness, and Sabre pulled Tassin along so
fast that her feet barely seemed to touch the rocks. If he hoped
that the slope would become too steep for the wolves to follow, he
was disappointed, for it continued to be just gentle enough for
them. Tassin slipped and stumbled beside him, propelled by his
grip. Every so often, he stopped and turned to fire at the wolves,
forcing them to take cover and gaining a few precious metres each
time.

It seemed like
hours later that he stopped and turned to face back down the trail,
listening. Only the soft sighing of the wind broke the stillness.
Sabre relaxed against the rocks, and Tassin allowed her legs to
fold and sat down, gasping, her throat and lungs burning. Sweat
trickled down her face, chilling her skin as it cooled.

"What has
happened to them?" she panted.

"They have
fallen back. They will stalk us now."

"But you can
detect them."

"They do not
know that."

Tassin nodded,
concentrating on satisfying her lungs’ craving for oxygen. While
she recovered, Sabre spread her bedroll and blankets on a flat
spot. She lay down, her muscles jumping with fatigue. Sabre sat
beside her, his eyes closed.

"Are you not
going to sleep too?" she asked, surprised.

"No. Cybers do
not need sleep."

Tassin sighed.
"Where are the wolves?"

"They have
stopped further down."

"You are going
to watch them all night?"

"Yes."

Tassin closed
her eyes, but her burning throat and the jumping of her tired
muscles kept sleep at bay for a while.

It seemed like
only moments later that Sabre shook her awake again. The sky
blushed pink with the pearly light of dawn, and a bitter cold
nipped her. Her breath steamed as she sat up with a groan, rubbing
her aching legs.

"They
approach," Sabre stated.

Tassin's teeth
chattered as he pulled off her blankets and stuffed them into a
bag. He had finally donned a warm coat, she noticed.

"Where are
they?" she asked.

"They move
towards this position, probably hoping for the element of surprise
while their targets are asleep."

"No chance of
that," she grumbled, rubbing her eyes.

Sabre gripped
her arm and towed her up the mountain again, supporting her when
her stiff legs refused to move speedily. Tassin groaned with every
step, her stomach rumbling with hunger and her throat parched and
aching. She wondered if it was all worth it. Perhaps she should
have married the toothless Grisson, then kept him out of her
bedchamber with a sharp knife until he died. She longed for the
comforts of her home, where a small army of servants was at her
beck and call, fires warmed every room and her bed welcomed her
into its soft embrace each night.

It seemed like
an eternity since she had enjoyed a walk in the sun-drenched
gardens, or a leisurely afternoon of book reading and sloth.
Anything would be better than toiling up an icy mountain at dawn,
dragged along by a ruthless magical warrior and pursued by
enchanted wolves. She tripped, and Sabre's iron grip saved her from
smashing her face into the rock, swinging around to crash into his
chest. She gazed up at him with despairing eyes. Her lungs ached
and her skin tingled, her head pounded as if it would burst.

Sabre stared
through her, then released her arm and bent before her as if
performing a deep bow, hoisting her over his shoulder with the rest
of the baggage. Tassin wanted to shout at him to put her down. The
indignity was immense, but she was too tired. Tears of frustration
and bitterness leaked from her eyes, dripping onto the rock that
passed beneath her. Her head pounded even more as the blood rushed
into it, and she closed her eyes as Sabre strode up the mountain,
apparently unaffected by her weight.

From time to
time, she raised her head to look back down the trail, searching
for signs of the wolves. The sun warmed her back and Sabre warmed
her front, making her almost cosy. She marvelled at his strength.
No ordinary man could carry a fifty-kilogram woman, plus twenty
kilos of baggage, up a steep slope for hours, as he was doing. He
breathed deeply, but he did not slow or flag.

The sun blazed
overhead when he put her down, and only then did she notice the
toll the effort had taken on him. His features were gaunt and pale,
sweat beaded his brow and made tracks down his cheeks. He eased the
baggage off his shoulders and squatted down, head hanging, the brow
band flickering with a lot of red.

"Sustenance is
required. The wolves have stopped," he stated.

They drank
water and shared the cold rabbit. Afterwards, she relaxed against
the sun-warmed rock, until he repacked the bags and stood.

"Can you
walk?"

Tassin nodded
and climbed to her feet. This time he did not drag her along; the
sense of urgency had gone, and he seemed content to move slowly,
gripping her arm to steady her. She gasped in the thin air as they
ascended to the snow line, where patches of snow nestled in shadowy
clefts, and the raw wind stung her cheeks. She concentrated on
putting one foot in front of the other, and not slipping, as they
toiled up the mountain.

When next she
took stock of her surroundings, the sun sank towards the horizon,
and they were nearly at the top of the pass. Snow covered much of
the rock, and ice hid beneath it, ready for the unwary. Twice she
slipped, saved by Sabre's grip on her arm. Once he slipped, and
released her lest he drag her down too.

Finally he
stopped, and she rested while he scouted around, then returned to
guide her to a cave. As soon as the blankets were spread, Tassin
wrapped herself in them. When Sabre offered her some cold rabbit,
she shook her head, her appetite gone. She drank a little water and
lay down. Sabre settled close to the entrance and closed his eyes,
his back against the wall. Tassin knew he was going to keep watch.
Sabres did not need sleep. Humans, on the other hand, she thought
bitterly, did, and closed her eyes.

A sizzling
crack woke Tassin, and a lupine howl of agony followed it. She sat
up, disorientated. The howling went on and on, then dwindled to a
whimper. Three down, two to go. Tassin listened to the agonised
whimpering, stifling the pity that welled up in her. That was not
an animal, she reminded herself, but a man in a wolf shape. The
whimpering faded, and a faint scraping of claws told her that the
injured wolf crawled away. She hoped it would put the others
off.

Tassin became
aware that her fingers were numb and her feet had turned into
blocks of ice. Shivers racked her, making her gut ache, and she
chafed her hands, but it did no good. Dragging her blankets, she
crawled towards Sabre. He still sat against the wall, facing the
cave entrance.

"Sabre!" she
whispered. "I am freezing!"

His head turned
towards her, the brow band bright in the gloom. Her teeth chattered
like castanets, and he stretched out his legs and pulled her onto
his lap. Tassin stiffened, but he merely grasped her hands and
rubbed them. His touch warmed her; he seemed to radiate warmth in a
delicious glow.

"Why are you
not cold?" she demanded.

"The cyber
regulates body temperature."

"Is there any
damn thing that the bloody sabre cannot do?"

"Yes."

Tassin sighed
as he enfolded her in his coat. He seemed oblivious to her tension,
and she pressed her icy hands to his chest, surprised when he did
not protest. The embarrassment of being so intimate with a relative
stranger soon faded as she warmed up. She risked a look up at his
face, but his head was turned towards the entrance once more, his
eyes closed.

Tassin had
always found men to be rough, hairy and smelly, but Sabre was not;
even his slight body odour lacked the pungency of other men,
perhaps because he washed more often. Her father's hugs had almost
cracked her ribs and his beard had scratched her cheek, but Sabre's
gentle hold imparted security without the sense of entrapment. He
also lacked the body hair that other men possessed, and even his
breath did not smell, she marvelled. With a sigh, she snuggled
closer, listening to the strong steady beat of his heart, and sleep
claimed her in a swift inky rush.

Chapter Nine

Tassin woke
cosy and comfortable, and snuggled closer to the warmth, her hands
sliding over smooth skin. Startled, she opened her eyes. Her cheek
rested on a hard male chest, and her arms almost embraced him. She
jerked away, embarrassed and confused. Sabre turned his head and
opened his eyes. Tassin’s cheeks grew hot as she moved away,
pulling her coat around her as the cold bit her skin. He turned
back to the entrance, ignoring her embarrassment. For once, she was
glad that he had no feelings, for he seemed unaware of her
mortification. She helped herself to some water and food, noticing
that the sun shone outside.

"Where are the
wolves?" she enquired.

"Out of scanner
range."

"You mean you
do not know?"

"Correct."

Tassin scowled
at him. "Are they above or below us?"

"They were one
kilometre below this position when they disappeared."

"So they are
hiding in the rocks. They could be anywhere."

"Yes."

Tassin tore at
the salted meat, and Sabre sat up to take a piece. Although he did
not show it, she knew that he must be stiff from lying so still all
night.

"So what do we
do now?" she demanded. "Stay here and freeze?"

"No.
Continue."

"What if they
are waiting in ambush?"

"This unit will
fight them."

She raised her
brows. "I am quite capable of fighting too, if you loan me your
knife."

"You will not
fight."

Tassin wished
she had a sword so she could prove that she was also a warrior. It
puzzled her that he never referred to himself in the first person,
and she wondered if his strange pronunciation of 'sabre' might
perhaps have a different meaning. There was no word she knew of
that resembled the one he used, so it might be a foreign tongue,
although the rest of his speech was not heavily accented. The
strange word, combined with his habit of referring to himself as
'this unit', made her wonder about the depths of his madness. As
soon as he had eaten, Sabre packed the bedrolls and crawled out of
the cave, pausing to stretch, joints cracking. She followed his
example, groaning as her stiff muscles protested their abuse.

Sabre led the
way up the pass, which continued to slope gently, and she wondered
why horses could not use it. So far, apart from being rocky and
slippery in places, she saw no reason why they could not have
ridden.

By
mid-afternoon, her legs ached again and her head pounded as she
panted in the frigid air. Sabre stopped, and when she reached his
side she swayed and grabbed his arm with a gasp. The mountain fell
away in a sheer cliff that levelled out far below in a series of
snow-covered shelves.

"We have to
climb down that?" Tassin cried, horrified.