As he wandered the dim corridors on his way back to his room, a shadowy figure stepped into his path. Sabre tensed, then relaxed as he recognised one of the ladies from the feast, Countess somebody-or-other. Her elaborately arranged blonde hair framed a heart-shaped face, and violet eyes glowed in frames of thick dark lashes. He bowed and moved to circumnavigate her, but she laid a hand on his arm.
He raised his brows. "Countess?"
"I have been watching you all night, and I have heard some astounding tales about you. You must be a very brave, strong man, Sir Sabre." Her voice throbbed and her liquid eyes roamed over him in a way that made him want to squirm, although he did not really know why.
"I'm not a knight, and I just did what I had to."
The countess pouted and stepped closer, running her hand up his arm. "I want to hear more of your adventures. Perhaps you would care to join me in my suite? We could have wine."
Sabre cleared his throat, averted his eyes from her blatant stare and stepped back, only to encounter a wall. She moved closer, pressing herself to him now that he had no retreat, and started to unbutton his jacket. He buttoned it again as fast as she undid it, and she gave a husky giggle.
"Are you so bashful, Sir Sabre?"
"Countess, I -"
"He is not interested."
Sabre jumped as Tassin stepped from the shadows beyond the countess, who swung to face the Queen and curtsied. "Your Majesty."
Tassin walked closer, her cold eyes fixed on the blonde woman. "You may pack your things and leave, Countess Marrin, you are no longer welcome at Castle Alrade."
"But Your Majesty, I -"
"Now, Countess."
The woman picked up her skirts and fled, and Tassin turned to Sabre. "I apologise for her behaviour."
"It's not your fault."
"Most would have accepted her offer. Would you?"
"No."
"Why not?"
He shrugged. "I'm not interested."
"In anyone?" Her eyes roamed over his face as if seeking to read his mind. "There was a time when you were keen to bed the sluts in a tavern. Now you act like a monk."
"I was just... My tastes have changed."
"To what?"
"Celibacy. I'll bid you goodnight, Your Majesty." Stepping around her, he strode away down the corridor.
In his room, Sabre sat on the couch and stared at the wall, railing inwardly at the joke he called a life. He gripped the brow band, wishing he could tear it off. He was trapped. Condemned to be a cyber. The inner voice that so often mocked him awoke and shouted the insults he tried so hard to ignore. Cyborg! Killing machine! Freak! Fury swept through him in a wild, unbridled tide that craved release. He raised his fist and brought it down on the heavy wooden table with all his strength, smashing it to splinters with a terrific bang.
Sabre stared at the wreckage for a long time, then groaned and sat back. He could not stay at the castle. His whereabouts would not prevent the spacer from coming for him, and he did not want Tassin and Dena to see him turned back into a cyber. It would be distressing for them to witness his removal, and to listen to the spacer's assurances that he was just a machine; a piece of high-tech equipment that needed a little repair. How could Dena understand that? Rising, he went to the bed and flung himself down on it, buried his face in the pillow and wished he could escape reality as easily.
The following day, Sabre went for a wild ride through the woods, enjoying the rushing wind and thunder of hooves. When he turned the panting horse towards home, he was more relaxed, as if some of his troubles had been left behind. There was no escaping his fate, however. Stopping the horse, he sat and watched the tranquil woodland, enjoying the peace. Time. It was just a matter of time, but at least he had had these few months; a brief interlude of adventure, of life. His time was ticking away. Each day brought the end closer. Like a condemned man, he wondered how much time he had left, and how to make the most of it. With a sigh, he headed homewards.
As he approached the castle, a platoon of cavalry thundered over the drawbridge, pennants flying. The guard sergeant led them, and Sabre guided his mount to canter alongside him.
"What's happening?" he bellowed over the thunder of hooves.
"One o' them things got through the mountains again."
Sabre went with them down the winding road that led to the town. A broad swathe was torn through a field of wheat, heading for the village. In the pasture beyond, a shepherd's hut was flattened, and numerous dead sheep, gutted by sharp claws, dotted the grass. Sabre wondered why chaos beasts were so destructive, and what drove them to seek out towns and rampage through them. If the Core had merely maddened them, they would just as soon have ravaged a forest, but they did not.
In the town centre, a Death Zone monster attacked buildings and people. A throng of townsfolk armed with farming implements surrounded it, reminding Sabre of the people he had saved in the Zone. They cheered when the soldiers arrived, and some retreated while others continued to harry the horse-sized creature, which resembled a bear. Long tusks jutted from its jaws, and twelve-centimetre claws tore the ground. A ridge of bone blades rose from its spine, and a long, spike-tipped tail lashed behind it. Blood streaked its short, dapple-grey, moss-like fur where the townsfolk had stabbed it with pitch forks and crude spears, and it left a crimson trail. Its Roman-nosed head swung from side to side as it roared its fury and pain, glaring at its assailants with tortured brown eyes.
Sabre empathised with the animal's suffering. It had been torn from its home and mutated into a monster, and now knew only hatred and pain. Once it had been a predator on some alien world, hunting to feed itself and its offspring, no more dangerous than the shy cats that inhabited the forests of Arlin. Jerking the guard sergeant's sword from its scabbard, he vaulted from his shying horse and ran at the creature's exposed flank. The men distracted the animal, and he thrust the sword between its ribs, hoping its heart was in the usual place. It swung, snapping jaws that no longer closed properly, its exposed, over-large teeth dripping saliva. It stumbled and collapsed, its growls becoming whimpers as its life ebbed away. He ignored the soldiers' congratulations, his heart heavy.
The creature's ribs showed through its silken fur, and desert sand clogged its eyes. Deep gashes marred its grey hide, scabbed with dried blood and sand, where it had fought, or maybe tried to ease an itch, not knowing that its claws were now too long and sharp to avail it that simple pleasure. It was starving, unable to eat with the huge fangs that jutted from its jaws. There was no triumph in slaying it, only relief that its misery was ended with a quick, humane stroke. Like him, the chaos beasts had been made into monsters and sent out to savage and kill, driven by pain and hunger. He turned from the jubilant townsfolk and remounted his horse, riding back to the castle without a backward glance.
Chapter Nineteen
Sabre sat with his back against the sloping trunk of a dead beech tree that had fallen against its neighbour, a sturdy oak, in some long-forgotten storm. A doe browsed a few metres away in the glade that the beech tree's death had made, nibbling tender shoots. Her fawn gambolled around her, comical on stilt-like legs that still defied its control. The deer, like the beech and oak trees that made up this forest, had been introduced by the settlers centuries ago. He contemplated their folly in changing this alien world into another Earth, ridding it of the indigenous creatures that had once dwelt here. As usual, he did so to distract himself from the gloomy thoughts about his current situation and its inevitable end.
For four days, he had avoided Dena and Tassin, unwilling to face Dena's unhappy, accusing looks or Tassin's ill-concealed misery. Dena hunted him, and he had sought refuge first in the stables, then in the forest. It would be far better, he had decided, for them to get used to his absence before he left. Then the pain of parting would be less, and they would make new friends amongst the castle's populace. The girls had come to regard him as their protector and provider, but they would have to get used to relying on others now, or themselve
s. In a way, he wished he did not have to wait for the final confrontation with Torrian. Now that lasers protected the castle, Torrian had no hope of taking it. Uneasiness made him wait, however. He wanted to be quite sure Torrian was out of the picture before he left.
Sabre sighed and closed his eyes, resting his head against the warm bark while he listened to the carolling of woodland birds. His horse stamped and snorted where it stood hitched to a tree nearby. He allowed the tranquillity to engulf him, tuning his acute hearing to the distant sound of a woodpecker, the ticking of a leaf twisting in the breeze, and the faint calls of ravens circling high above.
The cyber's warning red flash caught his attention, and he glanced at its information. The scanners showed the light points of many men in tight companies, some mounted, others on foot, moving towards the castle, which was just within range. The cyber provided additional information in the form of suspected battle plans based on the troops' positions, and marked weak areas of the castle's defences in yellow. It laid out a wealth of useful information in his mind's eye, based on its peerless knowledge of warfare and strategy.
This was no honour guard. From the troops' encirclement of the castle, it could only be an attacking army, undoubtedly Torrian's. Sabre opened his eyes. It seemed the King had no interest in parley, and was going to try to capture Tassin again. Leaping up, Sabre ran to his horse and sprang into the saddle as the doe and her fawn bounded into the trees. Spurring the gelding into a gallop, he raced back to the castle, shouting a warning to the gate guards as he clattered over the drawbridge.
Leaping from his mount as it propped to a halt, he ran to the store room under the eastern wall and collected an armload of power packs. He sprinted up to the battlements and yanked the cover off a laser, loading it. Soldiers flooded into the courtyard below as the alarm spread, running to the armoury to collect their weapons. Officers shouted orders at the scurrying men, who buckled on their armour and adjusted their scabbards while they filed onto the battlements to take up their positions.
Sabre had loaded three lasers by the time the Queen entered the courtyard, undoubtedly summoned by a messenger with the news of the attack. Niam and several lords accompanied her, and they dispersed to supervise various aspects of the castle's defence while the guard sergeant, Arwolf, answered her questions. Sabre glanced down as Arwolf pointed at him, and Tassin trotted up the steps to the battlements, where he pushed power packs into a laser. The cannons held three packs each, and reloaded automatically. He hoped he would not need them all.
Tassin stopped beside him. "Is it Torrian?"
Sabre shrugged. "Torrian, Grisson, Bardok or all three. I didn't stop to ask. It's big though, for this planet. About two thousand men, maybe more out of scanner range."
Tassin frowned. "So, he has not given up."
"I think it was meant to be a surprise attack, to catch you with your pants down." At her shocked look, he amended, "Well, your drawbridge, at any rate."
"I will tell them to raise it."
"I already did."
She looked at the gate. "Then why is it still down?"
Sabre followed her gaze, spotting a sentry's sprawled body beside the portcullis. "Traitors!"
Tassin headed for the stairs, murder in her eyes, but he caught her arm. "You stay out of it!"
Sabre ran down to the gate, and as he reached it a man leapt from the shadows, his sword whistling towards Sabre's neck. He stepped aside and spun, landing a back-handed blow on the man's head. The soldier collapsed, dead before he hit the ground. The cyber flashed a warning, and Sabre turned as two more men attacked from behind. Ducking a sword that swished over his head, he punched one man in the chest, crushing his ribs with a dull crunch. Tassin shouted from the battlements, and soldiers rushed into the fray, cutting down the traitors. Sabre took hold of the heavy wheel as the thunder of galloping hooves became audible beyond the walls. Several men joined him, and the drawbridge rose.
The sizzling crack of a high-powered laser ripped the air, mingled with the soft thud of a grenade launcher as both weapons fired together. A blazing bolt of blue light hit the turf in front of the charging cavalry, but a laser was useless as a deterrent, its effect on soil being an unspectacular line of molten earth. The grenade, however, exploded with a thunderous boom, and horses screamed and bucked as clods of soil rained down on them from the smoking crater in their path. Riders fell, but the charge continued, carried by its momentum. The drawbridge creaked upwards with frustrating slowness, but already it was too high off the ground to be used as an entry.
Leaving the soldiers to complete the task, Sabre raced back up to the battlements, where his trainees crouched behind the lasers. Three fired at once, and dozens of horses and riders died. The launcher fired again, rather belatedly, the shell exploding amongst the retreating cavalry.
Sabre shouted, "Hold your fire!"
Many of the men shot him sheepish, triumphant grins, and he watched the enemy troops disappear back into the forest.
Turning to find Tassin at his side, he said, "You should parley now, while we have the upper hand. I doubt those soldiers will be keen to face our firepower again."
She nodded, staring at the glint of metal still visible amongst the trees that marked the enemy army's position. "If we did not have the lasers, I would be right back where I started."
Niam joined them, shooting Sabre a hard look. "I do not like those evil weapons, Tassin."
"Would you rather that beast dragged her off?" Sabre demanded.
The duke turned to him, his florid face purpling. "You stay out of this! You have caused enough trouble! If not for you, she would be happily married to Torrian by now."
"Married, yes, happily, definitely not. Don't your niece's feelings count at all?"
The duke's eyes bulged. "How dare you speak to me like that? You... you nobody!"
"Be quiet!" Tassin commanded. "Sabre is doing this for me, because this is what I want. If you do not like it, you are free to leave!"
The Queen's vehement support surprised Sabre, and Niam accorded her a jerky bow before stomping away. Sabre stared at the duke's broad back, wondering if he had been behind the gate guards' betrayal. It seemed a logical deduction, since they were his troops. He swung back to the battlements as a party of riders emerged from the forest, armed with a white flag.
Tassin regarded the approaching group with deep suspicion. "I wonder what he has up his sleeve now."
The Queen descended to the courtyard and headed for a doorway. Sabre followed her along a short corridor that ended in a pair of huge, gold-embossed doors. Two guards pulled them open, and she swept into a lavishly decorated throne room. Sabre raked it with a glance, noting every detail. The Alrade kingdom's greatest treasures resided in it; spoils of war and symbols of pride her family had collected over the centuries.
Fine tapestries depicting battle scenes and woodland vistas covered the walls, and rich carpets clothed the floor with finely woven artistry. Carved chests and copper-inlaid shelves held an array of silver and gold chalices, platters, plaques and memorabilia that winked with precious stones. Suits of silver and gold armour stood sentinel beside the walls. Shields, swords, spears, pennants, crests and coats-of-arms adorned the walls between the tapestries, and more hung from the black beams.
Sabre stopped just inside the door and stepped into the shadow of the thick red velvet curtains that framed it. Loitering nobles, who must have heard of Torrian's arrival and foreseen the upcoming audience, bowed as the Queen passed.
Tassin marched to the carved gilt throne studded with precious stones that stood upon a low dais at the far end of the room. As she sank onto it, the three servants who waited there stepped forward. One placed a sceptre in her hand, and another settled her crown upon her shining raven hair. The third servant approached as the first two stepped back and draped a short cloak of dark blue velvet edged with white fur over her shoulders. Tassin shifted and fidgeted, looking impatient and nervous. She waved away the two ladies-in-wai
ting who crept closer to offer her a cup of wine.
The rest of the courtiers sidled in while she was being outfitted with the symbols of her office, shuffling into position around the room. The duke and his family took up their rightful station on her left, and a flushed, bright-eyed Dena, resplendent in her silver circlet, hurried in to stand on Tassin's right. Sabre watched it all with jaundiced eyes, amused by the pomp and ceremony. In a matter of minutes the room was transformed into a fully-fledged court, the Queen presiding. As the courtiers stopped jostling for position around the walls, twenty stern-faced guards entered and took up posts in front of them, grounding their spears.
A herald announced King Torrian's arrival in a high nasal voice, and the dusty, dishevelled King stalked in. A black, crimson-edged cloak hung from his shoulders and silver armour clad his torso. Golden lions emblazoned the sleeves of the scarlet surcoat he wore under it, and his black trousers were tucked into suede calf boots. The long sword at his hip jingled as he walked, and the musky stench of stale sweat followed him in. Sabre thought he would march up to the Queen and try to wring her neck, so thunderous was his expression, but he stopped before the throne and nodded, barely polite.
"Tassin." Torrian's angry voice boomed around the room. "This is intolerable! You cannot refuse to marry all three of the kings of this land. You know the law. You must take a husband of noble blood, and I am within my rights to demand your hand. Now you turn diabolical magic upon my troops. You go too far! You cannot flout the laws of this land, drawn up centuries ago by our forebears."
The Cyber Chronicles 03: The Core Page 22
