The Cyber Chronicles IV - Cyborg
Read The Cyber Chronicles IV - Cyborg Online
Authors: T C Southwell
Tags: #love, #lost, #freedom, #quest, #cyborg
The Cyber
Chronicles IV
Cyborg
T C
Southwell
Published by T
C Southwell at Smashwords
Copyright ©
2011 by T C Southwell
Smashwords
Edition, License Notes
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Table of
Contents
Chapter One
Queen Tassin
Alrade leant on the battlements and gazed out across the forest
that stretched away to the horizon all around her castle, beyond
which the sun sank in a medley of red and gold. Deep in the
woodland’s green gloom, deer grazed and wolves hunted, foxes barked
and birds sang. Below her, peasants rattled past on rickety carts
filled with produce or firewood, calling greetings to the guards on
the ramparts. Life went on as it always had, but for her it no
longer had any joy in it. The gusting wind ruffled her ink-black
hair, carrying scents of wood smoke and flowers. She still missed
Sabre with every iota of her being. His memory haunted her dreams
and her waking hours, too. She recalled his gentle strength and
teasing smile, the way he had taken care of her and how safe she
had been with him. She longed to have that again, but knew she
never would. The laser cannons on her battlements were a constant
reminder of him, what he stood for and where he had come from.
Manutim had
taken him back there, beyond the stars; somewhere out in the
heavens, lost in the black void. Nor had she seen the spacer she
had thought was a magician since then. If she had, she would have
begged him to bring Sabre back, or take her to him. Anything to be
reunited with him, for being apart from him was too painful to
bear. Desolate dark blue eyes stared back at her from the mirror
now, lacklustre and sorrowful in a pale face whose youthful
innocence had been tempered by grief and bitterness, even though
she was only twenty-one years old.
There had been
no parties, feasts or celebrations at Castle Alrade since she had
returned after that fateful night, cold and bereft. She had wept
for weeks, missed him and cursed the cruelty of his strange origins
that had taken him from her. The despair in his eyes in the instant
before Manutim had pushed the button that had robbed him of his
freedom would haunt her forever. She remembered his peaceful face
as he lay in the casket, his skin cool, unaware of her tears that
had run across his skin when she had kissed him goodbye. He had
wanted to die rather than be returned to the slavery of being a
cyber host, and she had sworn to find and free him.
An impossible
promise she had been unable to keep. She raised her eyes to the
sky, her heart aching, as usual. Since he had left, a tale had
sprung up of an invincible magical warrior who dwelt somewhere in
the forest. She had started it, and fostered it, wishing it was
true. Sometimes she allowed herself to dream that it was true, and
would imagine she glimpsed a sun-burnished golden warrior standing
in a glade while she was out riding in the forest. The legend kept
her safe from the kings who had tried so hard to annex her kingdom
through marriage, greedy for her verdant land and prosperous towns.
Sabre was gone, however, packed away in a grey casket, more dead
than alive. Three years of grinding misery had passed since then,
especially since about two years ago, when her last hope of ever
finding him had been snuffed out.
For the first
year she had had hope, although it had dwindled over the months of
fruitless searching for one thing that might make journeying to the
stars possible: the sword she had brought from the Death Zone. It
contained the Core, the evil entity that had once ruled and formed
the Death Zone, which had become trapped in the weapon Sabre had
used to destroy it. The Core could twist time and space, for that
was how it had created the Death Zone. Although it had lost most of
its power, she knew it could help her. It had transported her and
Sabre to the skifgar world and brought them back. If only she could
find it. Sabre, she was sure, had hidden it, for he had hated it.
She had practically torn the castle apart looking for it, and there
was still a handsome reward for its location or any information
that led to its discovery. Sabre’s hiding place remained a mystery,
however. Perhaps he had buried it in the forest, or thrown it in a
lake. He might even have bricked it up in a wall; there was just no
way to know. Tassin sighed and rubbed her stinging eyes.
A polite cough
made her turn to find an auburn-haired lady-in-waiting in a dull
blue gown trimmed with white embroidery standing a few steps away,
looking apologetic.
“
Excuse me, Majesty.”
“
What is it?” Tassin disliked being disturbed during her sunset
retreat.
“
This boy…” The woman reached around and drew a shock-haired
urchin from behind her skirts. “Says he has found something you
might want.”
Tassin studied
the lad, who looked about ten years old, and was covered from head
to foot in soot, probably a chimney sweep. He also looked
terrified, and clutched something in his grimy hands. She smiled at
him and softened her tone. “What did you find, boy?”
“
A key, Missus,” he said.
The
lady-in-waiting cuffed him. “Majesty.”
He cringed.
“Majesty.”
The
lady-in-waiting grimaced and drew out a lace handkerchief to wipe
her hand.
Tassin shot
her a frown and then smiled at the boy again. “A key? Where did you
find it?”
“
In the chimney in the room where the star warrior stayed…
Majesty.”
Tassin’s heart
leapt and thudded. “Show me.”
The boy opened
his hands and held them out, displaying a small copper key, the
sort that fitted cupboards and wardrobes. Her heart sank a little,
but she kept her smile in place. Could it be that ridiculously
simple? Sabre’s old quarters had been searched several times,
however. There could not be a locked cupboard in it. She held out
her hand.
“
May I have it?”
The boy gave
it to her, and she studied it. Verdigris made it almost entirely
green, so it had evidently been hidden somewhere for a long time.
Perhaps three years. His room had been empty since he had left, so
no one had swept the chimney, until now.
“
Let’s go and see what it opens, shall we?”
Eager to
discover what the key fitted, and allowing a little hope to seep
into her heart, Tassin swept past them and headed for the
stairs.
Arriving in
Sabre’s old rooms, she looked around, memories rushing back thick
and fast. Apart from supervising the searches in the days after he
had left, she had not braved his rooms and all the memories they
brought back. She had hardly entered them when he had been at the
castle, but somehow his presence lingered. She could almost see him
leaning against the wall beside the window, smiling at her, his
gentle grey eyes alight. In the lounge, two brown sofas faced a low
wooden table and a sideboard held a few nick-knacks. Nothing had
been moved, and in the bedroom the bed he had slept in still stood
against one wall, a bedside table next to it. A wardrobe still held
the clothes he had worn, and dusty blue curtains framed the
windows. There was no cupboard, and her heart sank. She turned to
the boy and the lady-in-waiting, who stood behind her.
“
There is no cupboard.”
“’
Scuse me Missus, but there is,” the boy said.
The
lady-in-waiting raised her hand.
“
Strike the boy again and you will forfeit your post,” Tassin
said.
The woman
stepped back and lowered her eyes. “Sorry, Majesty.”
Tassin turned
to the boy again. “Where is the cupboard?”
He pointed at
the darkest corner of the room, where several old portraits were
stacked against the wall. “Behind them.”
Tassin
wondered how he knew that, but shrugged it off. It did not matter.
Going over to the portraits, she pushed them away, and the boy
stacked them against another wall. All she found behind them was a
small corner and a musty curtain, and her heart sank again. The
boy, however, brushed past her and pushed aside the curtain. There
behind it, in a nook made by an overlapping wall that some
architectural bungle had created, so grey with dust that it almost
matched the stone walls, was a small cupboard. Her heart thudded
again as she bent and fitted the key into the lock. It resisted a
bit, and then turned with a click. Tassin pulled the door open and
stifled a gasp.
In the gloom
within, a long narrow object was wrapped in a ragged cloth. She
fell to the knees, uncaring of her silver-grey skirts or the white
lace that edged them, and reached in to draw out the bundle. Her
throat closed with joy as the cloth fell away to reveal a gleaming
steel sword with an intricate gold hilt that she instantly
recognised. The sword whined, and a frisson shot through her
fingers when she touched it, her breath catching in a sob.
“
I found you…” she whispered.
The sword
chimed and turned to crystal with a flash of ruby light. The
lady-in-waiting gasped, and the boy gaped.
“
Is that the sword, Majesty?” the woman asked.
Tassin nodded.
“It is. This is the sword. The chaos weapon. The Core. I found it.”
She clasped it to her breast, her eyes stinging with unshed tears.
How had they missed it? Had the searchers not bothered to try to
open a locked cupboard? Had they not seen it behind the portraits
and curtain? Had the portraits been stacked in front of it during
the search, even? It did not matter; she had found it. She had hope
again. She stood up and turned to the boy.
“
You will be rewarded.”
The lad grinned, his black eyes sparkling. Tassin headed for
her study to start making arrangements. She had much to do and no
time to waste. Sabre must not remain a slave a moment longer than
was absolutely necessary. Her heart pounded with joy. What had he
said about the sword? She recalled his words, spoken in his soft,
husky voice. ‘
It has the power to open
portals in time and space and draw other worlds into its sphere of
influence
’. If it could do that, it could
take her to wherever he was. She clutched the weapon, rubbing spots
of rust off its blade. The cupboard had been dry and sealed, so the
sword showed few signs of corrosion. She picked up her skirts and
almost ran along the grey stone corridors towards her study,
startling guards and servants.
Tassin stood
in the centre of the empty room in the upper battlements where she
had chosen to begin her journey. She wore a tough silver-studded
black leather jerkin and a matching riding skirt over silk
pantaloons and a royal blue blouse. Strong boots shod her feet, and
a bag of jewels and gold hung from her belt beside a dagger and the
scabbard that would house the sword she now held. One thing she had
learnt on her journeys through strange lands with Sabre, and that
was to dress appropriately. Dena stood a few paces away, chewing
her lip. She had grown into a pretty young woman of about fifteen
years old, with maturity far beyond her years.
Tassin’s
nobles and advisors had objected strongly to Dena’s elevation to
Regent in Tassin’s absence, but she had overruled their arguments.
She had no time to debate the matter with them. Dena was a princess
and the Queen’s adopted sister, and she would be Regent. Tassin
would only be gone for a few weeks or months, at most, and she
trusted Dena above all others. She was perhaps the only person who
did not have her own agenda, and was utterly loyal to Tassin. Dena
herself was a little worried about the arrangement, but had not
argued. She wanted Sabre back, too. After he had left, she had
suffered nightmares of him drowning in dark water for months. At
the time, Tassin had wondered if the mutant girl was not a little
bit fey, and had some sort of connection to the man she loved so
much.
