The Cyber Chronicles - Book I: Queen of Arlin (23 page)

Tassin raised
her chin, glaring down her nose at him. "I am a queen. Once they
know that, they will be glad to help."

Sabre shook his
head and hopped onto another rock, still chuckling. "Do you really
think they're going to believe you? You don't look like a queen,
more like a vagabond, if you ask me."

"I did not ask
you. I can pay them; that should be good enough."

"And what do we
live on when we get to Olgara? You want to stay at an inn, and that
costs money."

"You expect me
to walk all the way to Olgara?" she fumed.

"It's not that
far. And maybe if we're walking beside the road, someone will take
pity on us and stop."

Tassin jumped
up as a rumble of wheels and hooves announced a passing coach.
Dashing out onto the road, she almost succeeded in getting run down
by a team of blowing, sweating horses. She was left standing in the
dust, shouting insults at the driver, who swore back with equal
venom. Returning to the stream, she glared at Sabre, who was trying
to tickle another fish.

"Are you not
going to do anything?"

Sabre swore as
the fish darted away. "You really want me to stop a cart by
force?"

"Yes!"

He looked up at
her and sighed, flicking water from his fingers. "All right, Your
Majesty. But don't blame me if we have to leave this country too,
because we're wanted for hijacking."

"How can they
cry foul if I pay them?"

Sabre turned
back to the stream. "You go and try to stop them with your feminine
charms. If that fails, call me."

Tassin stomped
back to the road, where a wagon was visible in the distance, pair
of trotting horses pulling it. The wagon kept going when she waved.
As it passed her, she shouted her offer of money to the driver, who
ignored her. She stamped her foot.

"Sabre!"

The wagon was
moving away when Sabre sauntered onto the road, carrying the pack.
She frowned at his tardiness, and he shot her an exasperated look.
Dropping the pack at her feet, he said, "Bring this."

Sabre sprinted
after the wagon before she could argue, knowing she would. Drawing
alongside, he gripped the edge of the driver's seat and leapt
aboard, settled beside the startled driver and turned to the gaping
man with a smile.

"Excuse me, but
my companion is a lady of noble blood, who needs to travel to
Olgara. She finds walking something of a trial, since her feet are
rather soft. I wonder if you would be so kind as to stop and give
her a lift?"

Despite Sabre's
polite tone, his eyes glinted. The driver hesitated, glancing at a
rusty sword stuck behind the seat, then hauled on the reins. The
cart horses slowed, digging in their heels to halt the wagon's
momentum while the driver leant on the brake lever. Sabre glanced
back at Tassin, who marched towards them carrying the pack, her
expression thunderous. He turned back to the driver.

"You'll have to
excuse her manners, she's very rude. But I thank you for your
generosity."

The driver, a
middle-aged man with black hair, green eyes, a pock-marked face and
jutting ears, nodded. The invasion of his wagon seemed to have
rendered him speechless, especially since, Sabre guessed, the
culprit appeared to be unarmed, yet displayed the kind of
confidence only a warrior would have.

Tassin reached
the wagon, and Sabre helped her up beside him, whereupon she said,
"You took your time stopping him."

"Perhaps you
would have liked me to slit his throat, then I could have stopped
the wagon quicker?"

She looked at
the open-mouthed driver. "No, that was not necessary."

The driver
stared at them, then, seeing that the argument was over, he whipped
up the horses. They threw their weight against the collars, and the
wagon rolled forward. Gradually it gained speed, until the horses
moved at a trot once more.

"You see why
wagoners aren't keen to stop for hitch-hikers? It's hard for the
horses to start the load again," Sabre commented.

"What are
hitch-hikers?"

"People who
stand at the side of the road with their thumbs out."

"Their
thumbs?"

"Never
mind."

The driver
perked up when Sabre told him they would pay for the ride, and
became quite friendly, chatting about his family while they rattled
towards Olgara. The wagon was laden with fresh produce, mostly
cabbages, covered by a tarpaulin. Its progress was slow, and they
stopped beside another stream for the night. Sabre went hunting
while the driver hauled water from the stream to throw over his
vegetables, and the horses grazed nearby.

When Sabre
returned with another pig, larger than the previous one, the driver
had freshened his vegetables, groomed his horses, lighted a fire,
boiled water for tea and laid out the bedding ready for the night.
Tassin had washed her face in the stream, and lounged beside the
wagon, rubbing her feet. The driver's name was Umgar, and he turned
out to be a friendly fellow.

Again they
feasted on pork, and Umgar contributed some boiled vegetables,
which were much appreciated. They spent the night under the wagon,
and Sabre slept strategically between Umgar and the girl, just in
case the wagoner turned out to be less innocent than he seemed.

Chapter Thirteen

At noon the
following day, they came within sight of Olgara. Unlike the
villages that dotted Arlin’s verdant countryside, Olgara was a
sprawling metropolis of low, white-washed stone buildings. It
straddled a river that vanished into the badlands, and its limited
farmland ran along the foothills of the Barrier Mountains. Few
crops would grow in its poor soil, so the farmland consisted mostly
of grazing for goats, cattle and donkeys. The king's abode
dominated the city, a creamy marble palace with silver domes topped
by graceful minarets. Tassin gazed at it, longing to go there and
be welcomed into its cool luxury.

Sabre eyed her.
"I hope you're not planning on going up there and knocking on the
door."

"Not looking
like a penniless beggar, no. I must get clothes more fitting to my
station."

"And since you
are penniless, just how are you going to buy more clothes?"

"You will have
to fight again, so we can make money by betting."

Sabre gave a
bark of laughter. "Oh, I will, will I? Maybe I don't fancy the
idea."

"Sabre, you are
sworn to serve and protect me."

"No I'm
not."

She frowned,
realising that he spoke the truth. Now that he was free, he was no
longer her servant. "I saved your life!"

"You're the
reason I nearly got killed."

Umgar watched
them with obvious amusement, his eyes shining. Tassin glowered at
Sabre, unable to refute this. "Just how do you propose to make
money so we can eat, then?"

He smiled at
her growing ire. "I can probably get a job to support you, but not
to buy fancy clothes so you can go and wriggle your butt to impress
the King."

Tassin gasped
and tried to slap him, but he caught her wrist and shook his head.
"That may work wonders with the little fops at court who tread on
your toes, but it doesn't work so well with me."

"You are
insufferable! You are a rude, ignorant, disloyal, disrespectful
bully!"

Sabre released
her. "You tried to hit me, remember? Perhaps you'd like me to
leave?"

"Yes!"

His brows rose,
and he turned away as if to jump down from the wagon.

"No!" Tassin
grabbed his arm, and he turned back to her.

"Well, make up
your mind."

She refused to
meet his eyes as she spoke the words that almost choked her. "I
cannot manage on my own."

Sabre sat down
again, studying her. "You've never heard of 'please' or 'thank
you', never mind 'sorry', have you?"

Tassin raised
her chin, and Sabre sighed. Obviously she had not. He glanced at
Umgar, who clearly enjoyed their argument, and decided that they
should be charging him for the entertainment.

When they
arrived in Olgara's crowded, dusty streets, Sabre helped the
sulking Queen dismount, and she paid Umgar a few coppers for his
trouble. The wagoner grinned and wished them luck, then chivvied
the tired horses on the last stretch of their journey to the
market. As Tassin turned away, a burly man shoved her aside in his
hurry to move past.

She shouted,
"Watch where you are going, lout!"

The man turned
and spat at her feet. "Dirty foreigner."

Tassin gasped
and lunged at him, her fist swinging for his chin. Startled, Sabre
leapt after her, caught her just before the blow landed and yanked
her back with enough force to make her teeth snick together. The
man snatched a wicked-looking dagger from his belt, but backed
away. Sabre pinioned Tassin's flailing fists and scowled at the
Olgaran, who turned and vanished into the crowd. Swinging the
furious Queen around, Sabre shook her until her teeth rattled.

"What the hell
are you trying to do, get yourself killed?"

"He pushed me!
And then he insulted me!"

"So you were
just going to beat him up?"

"I am a warrior
queen!"

"Oh, right!" He
snorted. "Dammit, you're a half pint little girl with the brains of
a flea, who couldn't pull the skin off a banana!"

Tassin kicked
him in the shin. "Let go of me, you brute!"

Sabre hopped
and cursed, releasing her. She flashed him a withering look, then
strode away down the street. Sabre followed, taking in Olgara's
ambience while keeping an eye on her, lest she attack some other
lout who gave offence.

Jostling
people, mostly clad in flowing black or blue robes, crammed the
narrow streets. The women wore veils, and the dusky-skinned men
were dark-eyed. This city, he mused, must have been founded by an
Eastern culture, perhaps Arabic or Egyptian, and, with the fall of
civilisation after the war, they had returned to their old
customs.

Overladen
donkeys and herds of skinny goats mingled with the populace, some
of whom carried baskets of cackling chickens or pushed carts. Women
shopped at stalls set up outside the houses that lined the streets,
and beggars shoved for positions in the doorways. The shouting,
braying, bleating crowd was redolent with dung, stale sweat and
musky perfume. The men all appeared to carry nasty-looking curved
daggers sheathed in their belts, and their eyes darted
watchfully.

Sabre yanked
Tassin out of the way as she was about to be run over by a heavily
laden donkey being driven from behind, and was rewarded with a
glare as she jerked her arm free. She turned and forged through the
crowd again, heading for the centre of the city. Sabre smiled and
followed, thinking she was quite cute when she was angry, which
seemed to be most of the time. Her childish air of regal
haughtiness amused him, and he found the fact that she was so
serious about it oddly endearing.

Then again,
perhaps it was merely the joy of freedom that made all aspects of
his liberation pleasant, even her churlishness. He pondered his new
situation with a burgeoning awareness of his inferiority. Unlike
those around him, he had not been born a free man; in fact, he had
not been born at all. He had no parents, no childhood, and no
experience of the world, other than the second-hand perception the
cyber had bestowed. At times, his hand crept up to touch the brow
band, wishing it gone, and he noted the way people glanced at it.
He was a product of science, not a real person at all, and would
have traded places with the lowliest of crippled beggars to escape
what he was.

When they
reached it, the city centre proved to be a large open square in
which a full-time market was established. Stalls sold all manner of
goods, from exotic fruit to skinny goats, even wild animals. Tassin
spotted a swinging sign and made her way towards it, arriving
outside an inn built of white stone and crooked, weathered
timbers.

She turned to
Sabre. "I need to get out of this crowd. We will stay here."

He glanced up
at the sign overhead, which read; ‘The Singing Harlot', and smiled.
"Looks like a nice place."

She gave him a
disgusted look and pushed through the bead curtain. "It is just a
name."

Tassin went to
the counter at the back of the common room and haggled with the
dark-eyed innkeeper, mostly about paying extra for two beds.
Settling for one bed, she growled over her shoulder, "You will have
to sleep on the floor."

Sabre shrugged,
his attention caught by a serving girl clad in a skimpy top and
sheer pantaloons, her ankles jingling with little bells. "Maybe
not."

She stared at
him, aghast. "You have to guard me!"

"Lock the
door."

Tassin snorted
and followed the innkeeper through a bead-hung archway into a
passage, where he showed her to a door at the end. They entered a
cramped room with a barred window and a narrow cot against one
wall. As soon as the innkeeper left, Tassin glared at Sabre, who
closed the door, achieving an oasis of peace from the hubbub
outside, and sat on the bed. Tassin folded her arms.

"So you think
you are going to spend the night with one of those sluts?"

He tilted his
head, looking puzzled. "I'd like to find somewhere comfortable to
sleep, so... yeah, I guess so."

"How will you
pay her?"

Sabre leant
back, regarding her with raised brows. "Obviously you're not going
to share any of the money I earned getting my head bashed in."

"Certainly not.
There is not much left, and we need it for more important
things."

He sighed.
"Maybe one of them will take pity on me."

Sabre did not
sound hopeful, and Tassin was surprised he did not seem to realise
just how likely that was. The thought of him frolicking with a
lowly tavern wench brought a bitter taste to her mouth, and she
played her last card.