The Cyber Chronicles - Book I: Queen of Arlin

Chapter Seven

  In the morning, Tassin took her leave of Mother Amy and Bern. The witch packed a parcel of dried food, and filled the water skins with fresh spring water. Tassin thanked her, and pressed two silver coins into her withered hand. The old woman nodded and smiled, her black eyes glinting with some unidentifiable emotion. Tassin was glad to ride Falcon again, the warhorse now recovered from his injuries. Sabre rode the mare as before, and they left the stolen horses behind.

  On the trail, Tassin glanced back often, wary of pursuit. She had been safe at the witch’s hut, but now she was exposed again, and almost regretted the need to leave. Torrian’s soldiers must have lost her trail when she had doubled back through the gorge, since she and Sabre had been riding different mounts. That fact had ensured her safety while Sabre had recovered, but now that they were mounted once more on the same warhorses, they would leave a recognisable trail. Even so, the time they had spent in seclusion made it unlikely that the soldiers would be searching in the right area. Evidently they had not found Falcon’s trail when he had followed her either, or perhaps Torrian had given up at last.

  Sabre rode behind her, and Tassin’s eyes were drawn to him often. Eventually, she grew tired of twisting her neck and ordered him to ride beside her. They followed a wide road, so there was no need for him to ride behind. When he obeyed, she studied him.

  “Sabre, when did those... technicians put that thing on your head?”

  Sabre turned his head towards her. “The control unit was attached when the host body was one year old.”

  “One year! You were just a baby. Why so young?”

  “It was necessary for the host body to adjust.”

  Tassin digested this, frowning. “What would happen if it was removed?”

  “This unit would become non-functional.”

  “Does that mean you would die?”

  “No. Control would return to host brain.”

  Tassin watched Falcon’s ears twitching in response to her voice. “Can that thing be removed?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “Removal would cause brain damage.”

  Tassin wished he would simply explain it to her instead of making her dig it out of him bit by bit. His answers almost seemed to contradict each other, and she was forced to sift through them. So if the brow band was removed, the man it controlled would wake up, but the removal of the band would cause damage, so he would be an idiot, like Bern. Therefore, the brow band could not be removed. Tassin spurred Falcon into a canter. The sooner this journey was over, the sooner she could get rid of this annoying man who could not even hold a conversation.

  For two days, they moved unimpeded through the countryside, stopping at villages to eat and sleep in inns, using the money Sabre had won. Tassin did not enter a village until she had ascertained that no soldiers lurked in it, which was easy enough to find out from peasants they encountered on the outskirts. Once darkness fell, there was no chance of soldiers arriving, since they too had to stop to rest and feed their mounts. Even if they picked up her trail, they could not follow it at night. They might continue to follow the road, if they assumed their quarry had stayed on it, but they risked exhausting their horses and losing the trail.

  Tassin relaxed, hoping Torrian had given up the chase. The woodlands turned red and gold as autumn took hold, and floxwood trees shed humming seeds that gyrated like maddened insects, tempting birds to eat them. The seeds were poison, and the rotting corpses of their victims provided compost for the seedlings. If a scavenger ate the dead bird, it merely provided more compost for the young tree.

  On the third night, they camped in the woods beside a stream, unable to find a village. It was not such a hardship, however, since Tassin had purchased bedrolls. Sabre was cooking a rabbit when his head jerked up, the lights on his brow band sparkling. He turned his head slowly, his torso twisting when it became necessary.

  “What is it, Sabre?”

  “Something is following.”

  A chill went through her. “What? Men? Torrian’s soldiers?”

  “A mixture of man and animal.”

  “Men on horses?”

  “No. Wolves and men.”

  She relaxed. “It is some villagers hunting wolves. They do that sometimes when the wolves worry their stock.”

  “No. It is best to leave.” Sabre rose, dropping the rabbit into the fire.

  She rescued her supper, annoyed. “In the dark? I do not think so. It is just some hunters.”

  Sabre strode into the darkness and returned a few minutes later leading the horses, saddled. He gathered up the bedrolls and food, packing them into the saddlebags. Tassin roasted her rabbit, ignoring him until he stamped out the fire, then she looked up.

  “What are you doing? There is no need to leave. Unsaddle the horses at once!”

  “It is imperative to leave now.”

  “Hey! You… Let me go!” Tassin yelped as he hauled her to her feet. “I order you to release me!”

  Sabre dragged her towards the horses. “Orders are to protect and save you.”

  Tassin tried to free her arm, then punched him, hurting her hand. “You moron! Torrian’s soldiers do not use wolves! It is just some hunters. Let go of me!”

  “You are in danger.”

  “No I am not! Damn you! Let go this instant!”

  Sabre swept her up and almost flung her onto Falcon’s back, then vaulted aboard the mare and kicked her into a trot. Tassin could not prevent Falcon from following, besides which, she did not wish to be left behind. Then again, she thought bitterly, Sabre would not leave her behind. She glared at his back, ducked branches and avoided trees as he led the way through the undergrowth. The large moon was full, turning the forest into a wonderland of deep shadows and bright dapples. The silver light leeched away colour, leaving the landscape stark with shades of grey.

  They left the stream bank and headed uphill, deeper into the forest, and Tassin wondered if Sabre knew where he was going. Surely he would realise his mistake when they left the wolves behind? He glanced back, the lights on his brow band a splash of alien colour in the darkness, and urged the mare into a canter. Tassin wanted to shout at him to slow down. It was too dangerous to travel at this speed in a forest at night. As she opened her mouth, a bunch of leaves slapped her in the face, making her splutter and spit out dust. She wiped away the cobwebs that stuck to her face, hoping no spiders were making their way into her clothing as she vowed to punish Sabre for this indignity.

  Tassin looked back, and her heart seemed to leap into her throat. A sleek grey shape slipped through the shadows behind her, a low, running form that moved with silent ease. Tassin yelled and kicked Falcon into a gallop. The warhorse surged ahead, his ears flattened, and Sabre slowed his mare, allowing her to pass. He raised his arm, aiming back down the trail, and a bolt of blue brilliance lighted the forest behind them, just missing a lupine shape that flitted between the trees.

  Sabre stayed close to her, his mare’s shoulder almost pressed to Falcon’s rump as the stallion chose a path between the looming trunks. Another flash illuminated the forest like lightning, a brief flare of incinerated foliage adding a garish orange glow. Tassin clung to her saddle as branches whipped past, tearing at her hair. Falcon thundered up the slope, his ears flicking. A soft pop preceded a terrific explosion behind them, and a lupine yelp rent the air. Tassin risked a peek back, and a branch almost swept her from her saddle as she glimpsed receding flames. Her grip on her pommel saved her, but her shoulder burnt from the scrape.

  The wood ended, and Tassin urged Falcon up a grassy slope dotted with grey boulders and clumps of scrubby trees. The moonlight silvered rolling hills of waving grass. They had reached the foothills of the great mountain range, its distant snow-capped peaks serene. Tassin turned to look at the forest, catching a glimpse of a grey shape flitting along the edge of it, but the wolves stayed amongst the trees.

  After a few more kilometres of cantering uphill, Tassin slowed Falcon,
and Sabre allowed her to stop and slide from the saddle. He unsaddled and tethered the horses while she sat on a rock, willing her limbs to stop shaking. Only when he had built a fresh fire and heated water for tea did she stop watching the distant black smudge of the forest and relax. She slid down the rock and leant against it, holding her hands out to the blaze.

  “That was strange, for a small pack of wolves to attack people on horseback,” she commented, accepting a steaming cup from him.

  “Those were not wolves.”

  She glanced up, startled. “They looked like wolves to me. What were they then?”

  “Men in wolf shape.”

  Tassin frowned, sipping her tea. “What makes you say that?”

  “The scanners differentiate between life forms. Humans have different brain patterns to wolves. Each animal has a unique pattern.”

  Tassin’s eyebrows rose at this unusually long speech and strange revelation. “So these scanners of yours can tell you the location and type of every creature around us?”

  “Yes, and the numbers.”

  “What animals are nearby now?”

  The brow band flashed. “Two horses, three metres away, twenty-seven rabbits at varying distances and directions, eighteen ground nesting birds, five deer, two kilometres away, seven unidentified indigenous animals at varying distances and directions, fourteen sheep, one and a half kilometres away, four -”

  “Okay. I get the picture. You can detect things up to two kilometres away?”

  “Yes.”

  Tassin sipped her tea. “Then why were those men in the gully able to ambush us?”

  “They were hidden behind rocks. The scanners cannot penetrate stone. One was detected, then vanished. It was not considered a threat.”

  Tassin stared into the fire. “How can those wolves be men?”

  “Unknown. They have the brain patterns of humans and wolves combined.”

  “Magic,” she mused. “Clever Torrian; he has finally realised that he must fight magic with magic. How many are there?”

  “Five of the combined man-wolf creatures, and two humans in close proximity with horses.”

  Tassin nodded. “Two riders to take me back when you’re dead. Can you deal with the wolves?”

  “They are small targets and fast moving, but they can be killed.”

  “Just when I thought that he had given up.”

  “Ammunition is running low,” Sabre stated. “Less than half the original armaments remain.”

  “What ammunition?”

  “Laser power packs and grenades.”

  She thought about that, not wanting to appear ignorant. “The blue light and the big bangs, you need ammunition for these magics?”

  “Yes.”

  “Where can we get some more?”

  “Unknown. This is a primitive planet. High-tech weapons are not available.”

  Tassin stared at her steaming tea, mulling over Sabre’s words. She was beginning to think that he was not talking gibberish, but spoke of strange things she did not understand, assuming that she did. There were legends about old magics that were similar to the ones Sabre wielded. That kind of magic had been forbidden, because it was too dangerous. It was magic that had made the Badlands on the other side of the mountains, and the Death Zone. People who ventured too far into the barren sandy area, spotted with tracts of glassy rock, often died afterwards from a strange sickness. Some said that the land was cursed, and any who ventured there without the protection of the right gods would fall afoul of it.

  Tassin wondered about Sabre anew. Certainly he used strange and powerful magic, but he often spoke as if he did not belong in this land. Where had Manutim found him? For that matter, where was Manutim from? Did they perhaps come from the fabled land beyond the Sun Sea? Or the mythical paradise that lay beyond the Death Zone? Sabre had told her he was from Myontwo, wherever that was. She wondered if she could prise some more information from him.

  “Sabre, where is Myontwo?”

  “Star cluster GZ482.”

  “Which direction? East? West?”

  His brow band flashed. “Not on this planet.” Sabre’s head tilted upwards, and 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 recalled 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 he would argue, even if just to liven up the conversation.

  In the 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.”

  “But there are people around, and wagons,” she said.

  “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 farmland for almost two hours, crossed a wooded stream and surprised a few farmers in their fields. When they rejoined
the road, Sabre assured her that they were beyond the ambush. Half an hour later, the urgent clatter of a galloping horse behind them made Tassin looked back. 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 plumed 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 do not mind if I ride with you for a little while?”

  Tassin smiled and relaxed. 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.”

  She 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, although not cut out for speed, as yours is. He is a fine animal.”

  Algar stroked his mount’s arched, sweaty neck. “Ah, yes. He is 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.”

  “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 they have gone now.”

  Tassin looked away, as if studying the passing scenery, to hide her dismay. Algar apparently thought she was bored, and 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 vanished around the next bend, she reined Falcon in.

  “We cannot go through the pass, Sabre.”

  “No.”

  Tassin gazed after Algar, the fading sound of his horse’s hoof beats coming faintly on the wind. If only she could ride through as easily as him. 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 and she had no way of bleaching it. 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 he would not gloat over her mistake. The prospect of using the dangerous pass frightened her, and she hoped it was not as bad as she had heard.