The Cyber Chronicles - Book I: Queen of Arlin (18 page)

Tassin scraped
the sticks into a pile, and then cleared some of the snow from the
entrance, careful not to widen it too much. That done, she returned
to the cyber, who lay quite far from the cave. Hooking her hands
under his armpits, she tried to lift him, but her back protested at
his weight, and she released him. Digging in a pack, she extracted
another blanket and used his knife to cut two strips from it, which
she tied around his shoulders. Gripping the ends, she leant into
the makeshift harness. At first he did not move, then, with a jerk,
he slid over the snow.

Struggling
wilfully, Tassin dragged him to the cave, slipping, straining and
cursing his weight. For all that he was not a particularly big man,
he was extremely heavy. Once she reached the cave, getting him into
it was easy, and she pulled him as far back as she could, then sat
down to rest her aching back and burning legs. She checked on him
again, distressed to find his hands freezing cold. He had lain in
the snow for a long time. Searching through the dead men's packs,
Tassin found a treasure trove of wood.

The soldiers
carried bows, arrows and two axes with wooden handles. She added
them to the pile of twigs and set fire to it with her tinderbox.
The seasoned wood burnt well, producing hot coals. The cave grew
warm, and a little colour returned to Sabre's skin. She used all
the blankets to cover him, then huddled close to the fire to soak
up the heat. Soon it grew dark outside, and she chewed on some
tough dried meat. The exertion and tension had sapped her, and she
lay down beside Sabre and shared his blankets, cuddling up to his
warmth. Even though he was unconscious, and unlikely to awake for
quite some time, his presence was comforting.

Chapter Ten

For two days,
Sabre lay unmoving. Tassin found that there was something oddly
endearing about being around him in his helpless state, even though
she longed for him to wake. The wood had all been burnt, and she
lived on dry meat and water. She spent most of her time sitting
beside him, stroking his face and willing him to get better.
Sometimes she talked, telling him of her past experiences and
future plans. Sabre's colour improved, and he grew a soft beard,
but she did not dare to try to shave him with the razor-sharp knife
he always used. At night, she slept beside him, the steady beat of
his heart reassuring her.

On the third
day, she calculated that there was only enough food for another
four days. Often she walked to the edge of the cliff and gazed down
at the warmer climes below, wishing she could get him down to them.
The thought of leaving him did cross her mind. She may be able to
reach Olgara in time to find men and come back for him before he
died of dehydration, but she was unwilling to take the chance that
she might not make it back in time. Sabre had become precious.

Tassin was
sitting beside him with her knees drawn up, her chin resting on
them as she contemplated the snowy scene outside, when bedlam
erupted. The only warning was a flash of red that caught her eye
and made her look down at Sabre in surprise. Erratic red lights
flickered to and fro along the length of the brow band, and
Tassin’s breath caught in excitement. Sabre's eyes flicked open,
his brow furrowed in a deep frown, and his hands flashed up and
gripped the brow band. With a cry of dismay, Tassin grabbed his
arms and tried to stop him from pulling at the band. His eyes were
wild and white-ringed, his lips drawn back in a silent snarl. She
pried at his fingers, trying to release them from the band.

"Sabre! Stop
it! Stop! Leave it, Sabre!"

Sabre lashed
out, hit her in the chest and knocked her back against the cave
wall, cracking her head on it. His sudden violence and the blow to
her head stunned her, and she watched in horror as he continued his
silent battle. His fingers were white with strain as he strived to
pull the band from his head, and he gasped harshly through clenched
teeth.

"Sabre! Stop
it, you can't get it off!"

The futile
struggle continued for another few seconds, then his eyes rolled
back and closed, and he slumped. Worried, she moved closer to
inspect the band. Fresh blood seeped from around the struts, and
his tugging had straightened the bent ones. The crack in the
crystals was closed, but the band was black once more. Tassin
studied his peaceful face and rubbed her aching head. Finding a
cloth in one of the bags, she wiped away the blood, then used the
strips of blanket that she had employed to drag him here to tie his
hands, threading it behind his back so he could not reach the brow
band.

Tassin sat back
and thought about what had just happened. It seemed as if the real
man was awakening, the brain so long controlled by the magic in the
brow band, and he was entering into a mammoth struggle with his
controller. Unanswerable questions plagued her. What if he became
more violent? What if he injured himself in his struggle to rip the
brow band from his forehead? Was he brain damaged? Why did he fight
to rid himself of the brow band? Did it hurt him? She shivered,
remembering the savage blow that had knocked her aside. Would he
hurt her? At least she had secured his hands now, but, even so, she
was nervous.

That night, she
decided not to sleep beside him, and curled up as far away as she
could. She woke several times shivering, while Sabre lay under most
of the blankets. She longed to share his warmth, but the fear of
further violence kept her away.

A sound woke
her at dawn. She shivered and rubbed her hands to try to warm them,
then stopped as the sound came again. Sabre groaned softly, and
sporadic red flashes lighted the brow band every now and then. She
crept closer to peer at his face. His eyes were closed, and he
twitched, his hands clenching and opening. His soft groans were
husky and deep; a sound of pain. Tassin bit her lip, wondering if
she should do anything. After a few minutes, the brow band
darkened, and he fell silent. Relieved, she crawled out of the cave
to stretch in the early morning sun.

All that day
she watched him, waiting for the next bout. Late in the afternoon,
she became aware of a change in the tempo of his breathing and
studied him. His eyelids fluttered, then his eyes opened slowly.
Tassin held her breath, but the brow band remained unlighted. He
gazed at the rock above him, then turned his head to look at her.
Tassin gasped as his piercing eyes focussed on her face. Sabre
frowned and licked his lips. His gaze drifted to the cave mouth,
and he raised his head a little, then let it fall back as if too
weak to hold it up. To her surprise, his eyes glittered with tears,
which overflowed and ran down the side of his head into his hair.
He swallowed and blinked.

"I..." A
startled expression crossed his face, as if the sound of his voice
surprised him. He swallowed again. "I'm free," he whispered, his
voice filled with anguish. A slight smile curved his lips, and he
gazed at the roof with a bemused, wondering expression.

"I'm... free,"
he whispered again, as if he could not believe it. He tried to
raise an arm, discovered that he was bound and turned his head to
look at her. For several seconds he studied her, his expression a
mixture of puzzlement and wariness, as if he tried to decide who
and what she was. Tassin found that she held her breath again and
let it out. He looked down at the strip of blanket that bound his
wrist, then his eyes flicked back to her. Suspicion, caution and
puzzlement warred for supremacy in his expression. He licked his
lips and turned his head to stare at the roof again. She sensed
that his situation perplexed him deeply, and he struggled to accept
it. This was not the same person she had come to know; he was a
stranger. Was she also a stranger to him? Was this the real man?
Did he remember her?

"This is a
dream," he whispered.

Tassin longed
to contradict him, but the words stuck in her throat. How would he
react if she spoke to him? He seemed almost afraid of her, and she
chewed her lip as he turned his head to look at her again.

"I'm not going
to hurt you."

The inflection
was unfamiliar, for he spoke in a reassuring tone. He had referred
to himself in the first person! It took her a moment to recover
from her surprise, and she gulped, unable to keep silent any
longer.

"I am not...
you were hurting yourself."

"Tassin." He
spoke her name as if remembering it.

"Yes."

His eyes
closed, and tears ran down the side of his head. A faint smile
tugged at his lips again. His voice strengthened. "I'm not
dreaming. I'm free. The cyber's lost control."

Tassin stared
at him, fascinated by his smile, then crawled closer. "You will not
try to hurt yourself?"

He shook his
head. "The cyber's off."

Excited, she
untied his hands. This was the real man who spoke, not the evil
magic of the brow band, which remained black. With the excitement
came a frisson of fear, for he was a stranger, and she was alone
with him in the cramped confines of a cave, kilometres from
anywhere. Several questions sprang to mind as she fumbled with the
knotted blankets. Why had he been made a slave to the strange head
band? Was he a criminal? A killer condemned to slavery for his
crimes? She thrust the thought away, unwilling to entertain such
frightening ideas. The gentle cast to his features belied that
probability, and the tears he wept for his freedom indicated a man
with feelings. The knots fell away, and she shrank from him as he
pulled his hands free. Two things she knew for certain, he was
incredibly strong, and lethal when he chose.

Sabre raised
his head again, and struggled up onto his elbows. His eyes roved
the cave, filled with a strange wonder, as if he had been blind all
his life.

"I can see. I'm
truly free." He raised a hand to stare at it, flexing his fingers,
a smile curving his lips. "I'm in control." His face twisted as he
fought the emotions that threatened to overwhelm him, and muscles
rippled along his jaw as he struggled with his inner turmoil. He
lay back and traced the thin scars on the back of his hand with
trembling fingers.

"Those
bastards..." Tears leaked down the sides of his head, and he
squeezed his eyes shut, raising his hands to cover his face as he
stifled a sob.

Tassin’s eyes
stung in sympathy. She had no idea what to say; no words of comfort
sprang to mind to ease his emotional turmoil. His hands encountered
the brow band, and his fingers curled around it, whitening as if he
would try once more to wrench the hated thing from his head. Tassin
held her breath as he struggled to remain calm. He released it and
ground his hands into his eyes, turning his head away to hide the
storm of emotions that tore through him.

Driven by pity
and an intense need to comfort him, she reached out and stroked his
hair. He shuddered, rejecting her comfort with a shrug. Tassin sat
back. His rebuff did not offend her, but his weeping alarmed her.
She had never seen a man cry before, and Sabre's tears were all the
more incongruous because he was a warrior who killed men with such
consummate ease. How could she know what he had suffered,
though?

Years of
pent-up emotions and suffering clearly demanded release, and she
watched his shoulders shake with silent sobs. She had seen the
gentleness in him, and now his ability to vent his sorrow and pain
in tears bore it out. A hard man would have rejoiced at his freedom
and had only bitterness and hatred for his torturers, but Sabre's
emotions went far deeper than that. It seemed that he mourned his
lost years and the suffering he had endured. For a long time, he
lay with his back to her, and she waited for him to purge his
grief.

Sabre rolled
onto his back again and rubbed away the wetness that spiked his
lashes. "Have you got any water?" His voice was husky.

"Yes, of
course." She handed him a water skin and watched him drink from it,
his hands shaking.

"Are you hurt?
Are you in pain?" she asked.

Sabre lowered
the skin, his eyes becoming introspective. "My head, and a few
bruises." He shifted and winced. "Quite a lot of bruises."

His apparent
weakness reassured her, but she remembered his ability to overcome
pain and continued to regard him warily. "You fell a long way. It
is amazing you did not break any bones."

His eyes filled
with sadness, and his expression became forlorn. He shot her an
almost shy look and grimaced, frowning. "Reinforcing. Cybers are
designed to be almost indestructible."

"You remember
what happened to you? The wolf's attack?"

He nodded. "Is
there any food?"

Tassin handed
him some dried meat, which he chewed while he studied the rock
above him with a deep fascination, as if he had never seen anything
so beautiful before. He seemed to have recovered from his initial
shock, and his expression had become guarded, but his shadowed eyes
still revealed a little of his pain.

Tassin
remarked, "The brow band is broken, and now you are awake. Does
that mean it can no longer control you?"

Sabre glanced
at her before returning to his study of the cave roof, then he
swallowed and scrutinised the meat in his hand. "I hope so, but we
haven't resolved that yet. For the moment, I'm in control. It's
damaged, but it still tries to take over."

"Like yesterday
and this morning?"

"Yes." He
frowned at the inoffensive meat. "It hurts like hell, and I don't
want to be pushed into the background again."

"What is your
name?"

"I don't have
one." He paused. "You've called me Sabre, that'll do."

Tassin tried to
hide her surprise, but the question burst from her unbidden.
"Surely your parents gave you a name?"