The Cyber Chronicles Book III - The Core (32 page)

The feast that
night was a grand affair. Tassin insisted that Sabre sit on her
left, ousting Niam. The black suit Sabre wore had silver trim
around the collar and cuffs, and was a little too tight for his
liking. He found the ceremony boring, the toasts tedious, and the
jesters dull. The food was good, however. Since he sat next to the
Queen, he could not sneak out when he had eaten his fill. After the
meal, a group of minstrels struck up a gay tune, and guests twirled
and minced around the great hall. Sabre ignored pointed looks from
Tassin until she sighed and rose to her feet.

"Since you
will not ask me, I insist that you dance with me."

He shook his
head. "I don't know how."

"Then I shall
teach you."

"Tassin..."

The Queen
tugged him to his feet and led him onto the dance floor, laughing
at his feeble attempts to fight her off, her eyes bright. She had
polished off a few glasses of wine, and her mood was merry. Sabre
was stone cold sober as usual, something he regretted when they
took to the floor. Tassin stepped close and guided one of his hands
to the small of her back, raising his other arm so she could rest
her hand on his. The other dancers gave way, and soon they were
alone.

He bent and
murmured in her ear, "Don't blame me if I step on your toes."

She grinned.
"I will not."

Despite his
assertions, he followed her steps easily. Even when he made a
mistake, his excellent balance enabled him to correct it without
anyone noticing.

Tassin's steps
faltered several times, her knees rubbery in his proximity, but his
steely strength supported her. As they glided around the dance
floor, she contemplated her heartfelt wish to have him at her side
always, as her husband. The impossibility of her dream did not
penetrate the haze of wine and music, and for the moment she was
happy. The dance ended far too soon, and when the music stopped he
bowed and led her from the floor, foiling her wish to continue.

For the next
two days, Tassin dogged his steps. She found him in the rose
garden, the morning room and even the barracks. The pile of papers
that required her signature grew, but she spent only an hour each
day attending to affairs of state. When her people heard of her
return, supplicants arrived in droves to put their cases before
her, and messages and written requests flooded in. She let them
wait, waving her advisors away when they approached her. She spent
all her time with Sabre, ate every meal with him, strolled with him
in the gardens, rode in the woods and played the lute for him in
the sun room.

Sabre made
several attempts to escape to the solitude of the forest, but by
the time his horse was saddled Tassin appeared in her riding
clothes to accompany him. He sank deeper into an emotional morass,
unwilling to extricate himself, yet knowing he must. The more time
he spent with her, the more he wanted to stay with her, and it made
leaving that little bit more difficult each time. Every day, he
promised himself that he would leave that night, but the longing to
see her again made him stay, just for one more day...

On the third
day, he gave her the slip and found solitude in the rose garden.
The winter chill was setting in, but a high stone wall and barrier
of tall trees protected the garden from cold winds. Pale sunlight
warmed the sheltered garden, whose pruned plants and sculpted
hedges encompassed an isolated world of lawn and brick
pathways.

Sabre sat on a
marble bench, watching the sparkling fall of the fountain, when
Tassin found him. She bore down on him with a determined, if
somewhat timid air. He groaned inwardly even as his heart warmed at
the sight of her. Being in her company was sweet torture, and he
was not sure how much more of it he could stand. She looked lovely
in a silk dress of buttercup yellow, her shining hair arranged in
coils and curls around her face. She settled beside him, arranging
her skirts.

"So, I found
you."

"Yeah, you
did, didn't you?" He smiled wryly.

"I always
do."

"Yup." He
gazed across the garden, trying to ignore her intent stare.

"Sabre..."

"Hmmm?"

She turned to
him, her face a study of determination. "I know you will never
broach this subject, so I suppose I shall have to."

He closed his
eyes. "No. Don't."

"I..." She
hesitated, blinking. "I must. My happiness depends upon it."

He bowed his
head, shaking it. "Don't. Please."

"I want us to
be married." The words came out in a rush, and she gasped as if she
could not believe she had spoken them.

Sabre jumped up and swung away, his hands clenched. His heart
seemed to have become far heavier than it had ever been before, and
a strange ache filled it. While similar to the way it ached
whenever he was in her company, this time it hurt in a far more
profound manner. He did not think anything could ease it, except if
he could stay with her in Arlin. That was impossible, however, not
only because of his owner. The venomous voice in his mind bellowed
its vitriol and mockery.
Cyborg! Killing
machine!
His throat closed and his eyes
stung. He turned away, unable to meet her hopeful gaze.

"No."

Tassin rose
and walked around him to gaze at his averted face. "I do not
believe Manutim is coming back. It has been almost a year."

He flinched at
the hope and entreaty in her eyes. "He will."

"Then we will
fight him. We have lasers now."

"No."

Her tears
overflowed. "Please. I beg you. Do not leave me. I could not bear
it..." Her voice grew strangled, and she stifled a sob, her breath
catching.

Sabre shook
his head. "Don't do this to me. You have got to accept this. I
wish..." He stared across the garden. "I wish... I could. But it's
impossible."

"No! We have
already done so much. We can do this too!"

A wave of
anger washed over him. "God, we've been through this a hundred
times already! It's not going to happen!" He gripped her arms and
pulled her closer. "Stop being a little idiot! Stop torturing me
with these stupid, hopeless dreams! Get it through your head! I'm
not going to tell you again. I'm not human! I'm a cyborg! A killing
machine! I belong to the man who loaned me to you." He thrust her
away and strode off, ignoring her despairing calls.

Tassin raised
a hand to her mouth, her heart a lump of pain. She had hoped her
proposal would bring him joy and tell him of her feelings, which
she could not yet speak about, for she longed for him to admit his
love for her first. She knew now that she loved him with all her
heart, and the thought of losing him brought exquisite pain. His
rejection cut her to the core, wounding the fragile, budding
feelings she bore for him.

Surely he
should want to fight to stay with her, and be free, if he felt
something for her too? Gathering up her skirts, she ran after him,
brushing aside the ladies-in-waiting who had come in search of her.
He had vanished, however, and she retreated to her room to nurse
her wounded heart, dispatching servants to find him. She had to
talk to him, to heal the rift, but also to ensure that he did not
slip away forever.

Sabre eluded
Tassin for the rest of the day, finding a peaceful eerie atop the
castle's highest battlements, where he watched the servants hunting
for him below. He stayed there until long after dusk, when the
search was abandoned and most of the servants retired. Then he
returned to his room and dressed in his old clothes, taking a warm
jacket to ward off the winter chill.

On silent
feet, he traversed the hallway to Dena's room. He bent over the
sleeping child, kissed her brow and whispered a sad farewell. Going
to Tassin’s rooms, he stood for some time in the darkness outside
her doors, where two yawning guards leant on their spears. He
longed to see her one more time and say goodbye while she slept,
but that would be risky. Making his way to a side door that led
into the courtyard, he slipped through the gates and loped into the
forest.

Chapter Twenty

Tassin stared
blindly at the maps spread on the table, a flickering oil lamp
throwing leaping light across them. Her eyes drooped with fatigue
and her bones ached from weeks of hard travel. She had lost track
of how long she had been searching for Sabre. It seemed like an
eternity. Rain lashed the tent and freezing wind crept in through
every chink in the heavy leather. She shivered and pulled her thick
fur coat closer, blinking tears from her gritty eyes. When she had
found that Sabre had left during the night after the fateful
encounter, she had been frantic.

On that day,
she had started the largest manhunt in Arlin's history. She had
dispatched her soldiers in squads of ten and ordered her lords and
knights to send out their men. The huge reward she had offered for
any information as to Sabre's whereabouts had drawn commoners and
mercenaries into the hunt, and Tassin led a squad of twenty men.
She dressed in sturdy black trousers and studded leather armour, a
slender sword at her side. Her advisors' disapproval had fallen on
deaf ears, and she had denied Dena's clamouring to join the
search.

Tassin had
become more despondent with each empty, fruitless day. Her heart
had grown heavy with desolation and her temper was short. Only when
she was alone did she vent her misery in hopeless tears that
brought no comfort.

Sabre had
vanished.

Three weeks
ago, her squad had skirted close to the mountains, and she had
detoured to collect her war stallion. The mare with him had a grey
colt at foot, and finding them had brought a little joy to lighten
her load of misery. She had returned to the heart of her land,
ignoring her general's pleas to end the search. Her men were tired
and cold, as was she, entering her tent each night exhausted and
saddle sore.

The maps
blurred as fresh tears flooded her eyes, and she rubbed them away,
a lump blocking her throat. She would never stop searching for him.
She would find him or die trying. A warrior queen never gave up. A
wry smile tugged at her lips as she recalled his teasing mockery of
her grand assertion. His smiling image filled her mind, and she
covered her face and wept.

Sabre sat in
an abandoned cabin, warming his hands on the fire he had kindled
with damp wood. Odd jobs on remote farms had earned him a little
food, but he had lost weight, and sorrow haunted him. He made the
most of his empty days, enjoying the simple pleasures of a normal
life for as long as it lasted. He sensed his time ticking away like
a malignant, unstoppable clock. His heart ached with loneliness,
and he filled his dwindling time with memories of Tassin, fighting
the overwhelming urge to spend his remaining days or weeks with
her.

His attempts
to find the locator hidden somewhere in his body had proven futile,
and his last hope of avoiding his fate had died with that failure.
The cyber's anatomical analysis did not reveal its site, nor did
the memories he had sifted through. Outside, the grim land froze
under a bitter grey sky, reflecting his mood, and what was
happening to his heart. The first snows had yet to fall, but the
trees were bare and the woodland silent, awaiting winter's icy
grip.

A soft green
light that he had not seen before awoke in his mind's dim recess.
He closed his eyes to study its benign glow, and scanned the black
field that held the cyber's information. The three inconspicuous
words were not intended for his attention.

‘
Locator beacon activated’.

Sabre's chest
tightened, stopping his breath, and he bowed his head. This was it
then. This was the end.

Tassin sensed
a presence above her and looked up. Her soldiers searched a belt of
woodland for what seemed like the tenth time. The afternoon sun
slanted through the trees in golden beams, gilding the clouds of
steam that weary horses and men breathed. Her mouth swung open in
astonishment as a silver ship passed overhead in utter silence.
Lights twinkled around the ovoid craft's perimeter, and sunlight
gleamed on polished metal. Her heart flip-flopped and grew
leaden.

Turning to the
general beside her, she yelled, "Follow me!"

Tassin kicked
Falcon into a gallop in the direction the ship had taken, for its
speed had already left her far behind. The stallion thundered
through the woods, clods of earth flying up behind him. Trunks
whipped past and branches lashed her. The soldiers raced in
pursuit, spurring their mounts to keep up with the warhorse. The
ship had vanished, but she kept going in a straight line, hoping it
would bring her to it, and Sabre.

The woodland
passed in a blur. Falcon splashed through streams and thundered up
and down hills and vales. She ignored the worried shouts from her
men and leant low over his neck, trying to avoid the lashing
branches while urging the stallion to greater speed. He responded
gamely, racing over the fallen leaves, sweat streaking his neck and
flanks. As they hurdled moss-covered logs, she prayed that she
would reach Sabre in time. How long would it take Manutim to subdue
him? Would he go willingly or attempt to evade capture? She must
not be too late.

Sabre stood up
and went to open the cabin door. An unarmed merchant vessel floated
down in the meadow several hundred metres away, swaying on its
antigravity. The cyber's scrolling information informed him that it
was a J-Class Durapod, a small, fast shuttle smugglers often used
to sneak into restricted airspace and evade guardian patrols. The
interstellar ship it came from would be in orbit. Landing legs
unfolded, skids flipping open when they touched the ground, and the
craft settled onto them.