The Cyber Chronicles - Book I: Queen of Arlin (28 page)

He turned to
Sabre. "It seems your queen is now aware of her situation, so I
stress that you will say nothing to encourage her or make her hope
for release."

"You mean she
knows she's a prisoner now."

"If you wish to
call it that." He shrugged. "I prefer to think that she is under
our protection, until her betrothed arrives. This foolish business
must end."

Victor led him
into a room furnished with satin-covered chairs, carved tables and
tapestries depicting hunting scenes. Vases of spring flowers added
their sweet perfume to the air, and paintings of verdant landscapes
graced the walls. Long, green silk curtains framed arched windows
that overlooked an exotic garden. Oil lamps hung on the walls,
adding to the sunset's glow.

The maid
vanished through a door at the far end of the room, and moments
later Tassin entered, dressed in a strapless, dark blue satin gown
trimmed with white lace, whose full skirts swept the floor. It also
looked in danger of falling down at any moment, in Sabre's opinion.
At the sight of him, her expression brightened and she hurried
closer.

"Sabre!"

Victor stepped
forward and bowed. "Queen Tassin. I brought your man to see that
you are well, and for you to see that he is also well. I hope this
pleases you?"

She stopped and
bestowed a regal smile upon him. "That is most kind of you,
Victor."

The prince
stood aside, and Sabre bowed, aware that Victor watched him. "My
Queen. It eases my heart greatly to see you well and happy."

Tassin's smile
became strained. "I am well. I trust you are also being treated
with the respect you deserve?" She glanced at Victor.

"Indeed I am,
Your Majesty. Prince Victor's dungeons are fine and spacious, fit
for a king."

Victor shot him
an angry look, but Tassin nodded with apparent unconcern. "As long
as you are treated well."

"I hope to see
you soon, My Queen, very soon." Sabre hoped she would understand.
The prince signalled to the soldiers, who gripped his arms and
tugged him out of the door.

Tassin turned
her smile upon the prince as the door closed behind Sabre. "Do sit
down, the maid will bring tea."

Victor seated
himself, and she sank into a chair opposite as the maid left on her
errand. Tassin clasped her hands to hide the tremors of rage that
the sight of Sabre's chains had provoked, gazing at Victor.

"It seems my
situation here has become unpleasant. Torrian is on his way to take
me prisoner -"

"Surely
not?"

Tassin raised a
hand. "Indeed he is. I fled my kingdom to avoid an unwelcome
marriage, and now I will be handed back to my enemies."

Victor
squirmed, studying his shoes. "I am distressed to hear that."

"I know it is
not your doing. Your brother has made a deal with Torrian, and
undoubtedly he stands to grow richer from it. I have a proposition
for you, and I pray that you will consider it."

The prince
fiddled with his cast. "If I can help in any way..."

"You can. If I
am already married when Torrian arrives, his plans will fail, and I
shall be able to return to my kingdom."

He looked
blank, then understanding dawned, and his eyes widened. "I am
deeply honoured." He jumped up and paced around the room.

Tassin's heart
sank. "Will you consider it? It would be beneficial for our
kingdoms. A strong bond, a blood tie such as most kingdoms share.
Olgara has long been left out in the cold, so to speak. There have
been no royal marriages between us for several generations. Your
Queen Mirrial is the king's cousin, and there are no ladies of high
station for you to marry."

Victor stopped
pacing and gazed out of the window. "I cannot accept. My brother
holds the power here, and I cannot go against him."

"What can he
do? You will be my consort, almost his equal, a far higher station
than a prince. He does not have to know until after it is done. You
can arrange to take me to a church, and we can be wed this very
night."

The prince
turned to her, his expression bleak. "He will hate me. He will
disown me, and I shall be unable to ever return to my homeland. I
do not want to live in a foreign country for the rest of my
life."

"If you do not
agree to this, I shall break the alliance between Arlin and Olgara,
and your brother's kingdom will suffer."

Victor's eyes
narrowed. "Blackmail? It ill becomes you."

"This is what I
have been reduced to." Her voice developed a hard edge. "Your dear
brother thinks he has all the cards, for once I am married to
Torrian, he will rule Arlin." Victor brightened at this, and she
went on, "But that will never happen. If I am forced to wed
Torrian, he will not outlive the wedding night, and I will rule
both kingdoms. Then Olgara will suffer."

"It is my
brother's decision. I cannot go against his wishes."

Tassin stood
up. "If you are so spineless, and content to remain a princeling
for the rest of your life, so be it. You have my permission to
withdraw."

Victor paled at
the blatant insult of being treated as an inferior, reminding him
of his lesser status, then bowed and marched to the door, almost
bowling over the maid as she entered with the tea. Tassin stormed
into her bedchamber and slammed the door, leaving the maid
clutching the tea service and staring after her in
bewilderment.

Sabre sat in
his cell, his eyes closed as he recalled the route from Tassin's
chambers to the dungeon, waiting for the palace staff to retire for
the night. He hoped she had understood him, and would be ready to
leave when he came for her. The guard had delivered his food four
hours ago, and soon it would be midnight.

Opening his
eyes, he studied the crude manacles on his wrists, testing them.
The metal bent slightly, and the cuffs cut into his skin. He
relaxed and positioned the iron bands where they would do less
damage, then gripped the chain, steeling himself for the inevitable
pain. Putting his foot on the chain, he used his back to increase
the power of the pull. A cyber had a dead lift pull strength of
over six hundred kilograms, and he doubted the shackles would be
able to withstand it. The bands bent, and the chain links stretched
with a soft creaking. Sweat popped out on his brow as the pain
increased with the power he used.

One of the
links snapped with a dull plink, and his hands flew up past his
ears. Releasing his pent breath, he rubbed his bruised wrists.
About eight centimetres of chain dangled from each manacle, and
this he held in his hands as he rose and approached the stout,
metal-bound door. Sabre studied it, weighing up the possibilities.
He might be able to bend the bolt outside if he pushed hard enough,
but the problem was gaining enough traction on the floor. It would
certainly be quieter, but also more difficult.

Rejecting that
idea, he walked to the back of the cell and leant against the wall,
facing the door. The room was not large enough to build up much
speed, but it would have to do. Pushing himself off the wall, he
sprinted across the cell and leapt at the door, concentrating all
his power into his right leg. His foot hit the door square in the
middle with a terrific bang, and the wood shattered into thousands
of splinters and several fair-sized planks that clattered into the
passage. Sabre rubbed his foot, then pushed through the sagging
remains into the corridor, where a guard gaped at the ruined
door.

Sabre reached
him before he could make an outcry and felled him with a blow, then
checked that he was still alive before loping down the corridor.
Like a flitting shadow, he crossed the deserted yard, staying close
to the walls and avoiding the pools of light that spluttering
torches flung. Entering the palace, he traversed the halls on
silent feet, passing dozing guards without disturbing their
slumber.

Two soldiers
guarded the door to Tassin's suite, their chins sunk onto their
chests as they wiled away the night enwrapped in pleasant dreams.
Sabre crept up to the nearest, gripped his face and thrust his head
back against the wall. The guard slumped, and the second man looked
up, roused by the soft crack of his comrade's head on the stone.
Before he could react, he joined his partner on the floor.

Sabre entered
Tassin's apartment, where a few lamps still burnt, illuminating the
sitting room. Crossing it, he slipped through the far door into a
dark, sumptuous boudoir dominated by a mammoth four-poster bed
draped with gauzy material. The bed was empty, and he paused in a
deep shadow to scan the room. Spotting a dark shape at the window,
he crept over to it.

Tassin was
industriously employed tying sheets together and passing them out
through the window, her back to him. The natty black pantaloons and
embroidered jacket she wore were, at least, more practical than the
gown she had been wearing earlier. Sabre smiled and walked up
behind her, clamping a hand over her mouth. She gave a muffled
scream, clawing at his hand, and he murmured, "Hush! It's me,
Sabre!"

She stopped
struggling, and he released her.

"How dare you
sneak up on me like that?" she demanded.

"I'm glad to
see you too," Sabre retorted, scowling. "Should I have
knocked?"

"You scared me
half to death!"

Sabre smiled.
"I had to stop you from making a noise."

"You could have
done that without laying your filthy hands on me!" She rubbed her
mouth in disgust.

Sabre's smile
vanished, and he gritted his teeth. "I should have left you for
Torrian. You deserve each other."

Tassin hissed
with rage, and Sabre stepped back before she clouted him. "What
were you planning?" he enquired. "No doubt it didn't include
me."

"I am not here
to rescue you. I was making my escape, since you were stupid enough
to allow yourself to be flung into the dungeons."

Sabre turned
away and gripped the window ledge, striving to remain calm. "I
allowed myself to be flung into the dungeons so I could rescue
you."

Tassin folded
her arms. "So, what are you waiting for?"

"You to learn
some damned manners." Pushing himself away from the window, he
gripped her arm and yanked her towards the bedroom door.

She gave a yelp
of outrage. "There is no need to drag me about! You are as bad as
that stupid cyber!"

He stopped and
turned to her. "And you're an ungrateful little cow, so shut
up."

Tassin's rigid
back, raised chin and furrowed brow spoke volumes of outraged
indignation as he led her through the sitting room. He checked the
corridor before stepping into it, dragging the furious Queen, then
stopped when the tapping of her shoes on the marble floor echoed
down the hall.

"Take your
shoes off," he whispered.

"Why?"

"Because
they're making a noise!"

Grumbling, she
removed her shoes, and Sabre guided her through the palace,
retracing his steps to the side entrance that led to the dungeons,
where he emerged into the yard. Two moons hung in the sky, one a
silvery giant, the other an orange dwarf. The combined light was
too bright for his liking, and he pulled her into the shadow of the
three-metre wall that surrounded the palace. Tassin bent to replace
her shoes, and he glanced around.

"I'll lift you
up, and you grab the top of the wall and pull yourself onto it,
okay?"

Tassin looked
up, patently horrified. "I am not climbing that!"

"Why not?"

"It is too
high! I might slip and fall over the other side. What is wrong with
using the gate?"

"There are
guards there," Sabre said.

"So? Kill them,
or give me a sword and I will."

"I'm not
killing anyone if I can help it, and nor are you. Just do it,
okay?"

"No!" Tassin
jerked free and marched towards the main gate.

Sabre reached
her in two strides, grabbed her arm and almost yanked her off her
feet. "Damn it! I'll throw you over that bloody wall, if I
must."

"You are
hurting me!"

Sabre eased his
grip, and she jerked free again, then jumped out of his reach and
ran towards the gate. Clearly she expected him to follow and smash
his way through the guards to freedom. Sabre caught up with her in
three strides and yanked her to a halt once more. Tassin scowled at
him, then turned her head towards the gate.

"Guards!" she
bellowed.

Once again, a
potent wish to scale the wall and leave her to Torrian assailed
Sabre. She hissed as his grip on her wrist tightened, and he eased
it. The four gate sentries shouted and ran towards them, drawing
their swords. Tassin looked up at him, her expression triumphant.
He released her and strode to meet the soldiers, dodging the thrust
of the first man's weapon and felling him with a punch that dropped
him in his tracks.

One sentry
sprinted towards the billets, shouting for reinforcements, while
the other two attacked. Sabre side-stepped the next man's lunge and
grabbed his arm, yanked him closer and punched him in the head. The
sentry collapsed, and Sabre ducked the second soldier's sword
stroke, which would have done serious damage to his neck, then
stepped closer and sent the man crashing onto his back with a
kick.

Cursing, Sabre
sprinted after the fleeing sentry as Tassin trotted towards the
gates. The man proved to be fleet, and halfway to the billets Sabre
gave up. Tassin was almost at the gates when he caught up with her.
Gripping her arm again, he forced her into a wild sprint, ignoring
her hisses of protest. Judging by the ruckus emanating from the
billets, soldiers were already jumping from their beds to give
chase. Sabre swerved off the road, holding up the stumbling Queen,
who panted curses.

Soon the
clatter of boots on cobblestones heralded soldiers pounding in
pursuit, and he dragged Tassin into a narrow, smelly alley, where
she made soft noises of disgust at the stench. Sabre scanned the
alley for a refuge, but all the houses were shuttered, their doors
bolted against the night chill and all who might be abroad in it.
Torches flared in the street, illuminating running figures, and he
pulled the Queen into a dark doorway.