Tassin surveyed the surrounds. The waning silver moon, Argos, gave little light, and the orange moon, Pythal, had not risen yet. Bridling her impatience, she waited while Sabre ate his fill, since he was not going to listen to her. The pot was almost empty when he put down the spoon and rose.
“Where are the provisions?” he enquired.
“I think they are strapped to the back of the coach.”
Sabre vanished into the darkness, and Tassin crept over to Torrian’s tent. Just inside the flap, she found the bundle of armour and weapons she had seen him place there earlier, and uncovered a gleaming gold-hilted sword sheathed in soft leather. Digging in the bundle, she drew out a long, slender dagger and wrapped it, together with the sword, in a length of cloth.
Tassin glared at the hulking form of the sleeping King, wishing she had the skill and strength to end his life while he slept. She had never killed a man, and, much as she longed for his death, the thought of stabbing him sickened her. If she did not kill him with one blow, he would rouse the camp and Sabre would be forced to fight again. Somehow, she doubted Torrian would be easy to kill. Sabre could do it, but he would not, and she resented his refusal to do as she wished. With Torrian gone, Victor would marry her, she was certain, and her problems would be over.
Sabre returned a few moments later, with water skins and food, which he bundled together with her bedding, then paused, turning his head slowly, like the cyber had done.
“Okay, the sentries are moving away. Hold onto the back of my webbing, and try not to make any noise.”
Sabre led her through the bush to a pair of tethered horses, making her previously impossible wish to escape seem ridiculously easy. He loaded the supplies, then turned and spotted the bundle she clutched to her breast.
“What have you got there?” She displayed the sword, and his teeth flashed in a white grin. “At last, the warrior queen is armed!”
“It is not funny!”
“But it is! You couldn’t swing that thing if your life depended on it.” He held out his hand, and she stepped back.
“It is mine.”
He chuckled. “Okay, keep it. Just don’t drop it on your toe.”
“I know how to handle a sword, Sabre.” She lashed it to her saddle.
“So, where to, Your Majesty?”
“Back to Olgara.”
“Are you nuts?”
“Nuts?”
“Never mind.” He ran a hand over his hair. “We can’t go back to Olgara. That’s the first place Torrian will look, and Xavier will help him.”
“There is nowhere else to go.” She sank onto a rock. “If Torrian does not find me in Olgara, he will search Arlin, and his kingdom, and Grisson’s and Bardok’s. Beyond those kingdoms is the Infinite Sea, which cannot be crossed, and otherwise there is only the Badlands, which cannot be crossed either.”
Sabre rubbed his chin with a faint rasp of stubble. “What’s beyond Olgara?”
“The sea.”
“And the other way?”
“Badlands. The desert cuts right across the land, stopping at the Barrier Mountains.”
Sabre gazed into space, digesting this. “But there’s good land beyond the Badlands.”
“No one knows that. The legends say there is a paradise there, but we cannot cross the Badlands. It is cursed.” She shuddered. “And if you try to cross it, you have to go through the Death Zone.”
He nodded. “Mother Amy said something about that.”
“It was to have been the cyber’s mission, before Pervor ordered it to protect me instead. The cyber was meant to destroy the Death Zone. It is getting bigger, and the monsters that come out of it are crossing the mountains and attacking villages in Arlin. The lands we live in are life zones, the desert is the Badlands, and in the middle of it is the Death Zone.”
Sabre gazed into the desert. “Radiation.”
“What?”
“The curse. It’s radiation, from the nuclear war. That’s what causes the monsters. They must be mutants.”
She shook her head. “It is evil magic, like Mother Amy said.”
“Call it what you will, it’s deadly.”
“So we go to Olgara.”
“No. We’ll just get caught. We cross the Badlands.”
Tassin jumped up. “You are mad! You will kill us both! Even if it could be crossed, I do not want to live in a strange land, where I will be nobody. I have a kingdom. I am a queen!”
He shrugged, tightening his horse’s girth. “Then marry Torrian.”
“No! I wanted to marry Victor, but Xavier made a stupid deal with Torrian, and Victor is too spineless to go against him.”
Sabre looked thoughtful. “What about that young lord we met on the road to the pass? What was his name? Algar or something. He’s in Olgara. I stole his horse. You could marry him.”
“He is not important enough. Torrian would kill him. He would not kill Victor, because that would start a war with Olgara, but that young lord is small fry.”
“Then marry Grisson. He’ll kick the bucket soon enough.”
She shuddered. “He is disgusting.”
“Doesn’t Grisson have a son? Or Bardok, for that matter?”
“No. Grisson’s two sons died, and Bardok has only twelve illegitimate daughters.”
“Then it’ll have to be Grisson. You have no other choice.”
She paced around. “If only Victor was not such a coward!”
“But he is, so forget him.”
“Perhaps he will agree now. After all, Xavier has fulfilled his bargain and got his money.”
He watched her with an exasperated expression. “I think he’ll still hand you back to Torrian.”
“I want to try. We will go to Olgara.”
Sabre leant against the horse and draped an arm across the saddle. “Right now, we have horses and supplies. If we go back to Olgara, we lose them, and our chance to cross the Badlands.”
“I do not care. I have no intention of crossing the desert. I am not going into the Death Zone.” She folded her arms and scowled, daring him to refuse.