The Cyber Chronicles VII - Sabre

by T C Southwell

  "Can't you?"

  "No."

  "Good, then forget about it."

  "No. I do not like this secrecy," he said. "I thought we were friends. You are judging me for something I have not done yet, and that is not fair. You are putting words in my mouth that I have not spoken, and gifted me with uncharitable feelings when you do not know them to be true. Do you think so little of me?"

  "I think too much of you. I'm afraid I'll lose your friendship if I tell you."

  "You will not. I am not a harsh judge. What can you have done that is so terrible?"

  Dena sighed and fiddled with the crumpled handkerchief. "I'm lying to you. I don't think I'll lose your friendship, and I haven't done anything terrible. I'm just being stupid. It won't make any difference, anyway."

  "Good, then why are you so upset?"

  "Foolish dreams, I suppose. Stupid, hopeless dreams." She shrugged, tugging at the handkerchief.

  "What dreams? Tell me about them."

  "No. You'll think I'm pathetic, and I do have a little pride left."

  He frowned, starting to realise what she was talking about. "I think I understand, and I am flattered. I wish I..." He shook his head again. "Are you upset because I am going to be married to a woman of Torrian's choosing? Is that the real reason you stopped writing? But you knew that from the beginning. Or did you realise you wanted more than friendship, and it is impossible? Did seeing me again upset you this way?"

  She leant against the window frame. "Why must you ask so many questions? Let it alone. Talking about it isn't going to help. I always knew there could only be friendship between us."

  "But you hoped for more?"

  "Like a fool. There, are you satisfied now that I'm humiliated?" she demanded.

  "I did not want to humiliate you, and you should not feel that way. I care a great deal about you, and I value our friendship. The only reason it cannot become anything more is that Torrian will arrange a marriage for me. I have no choice."

  "You would if you helped Tassin and freed your kingdom from his rule."

  "Has this all been an elaborate ploy to sway my decision? Because it will not work."

  "Do you think this was an act?" She frowned at him.

  He hesitated. "I do not like to think that. You would have to be a very good actress."

  "Well I'm not."

  "So your secret is that you care for me, and had hoped for something more, but now realise that it is impossible?"

  "That about sums it up."

  "Then I am sorry. I thought you only wanted friendship."

  Dena shrugged. "Well now you know."

  "If circumstances were different, I would like very much to... um... court you, if that is what you would like me to do."

  "Oh, stop it, Sharmian. What is this, a pathetic attempt to stroke my ego? You would never think of me that way, so don't try to pretend you might."

  "You do not know that."

  "Yes, I do!" She sat up. "I'm deformed, remember? I have a hump! Don't try to flatter me with your pity, I don't want it!"

  "You do not have a hump. And even if you did, what does it matter?"

  "You could have the most beautiful women in the land, one for your wife and a dozen mistresses, if Torrian didn't have you by the short and curlies."

  "You think me so shallow?" He swung away and headed for the door.

  "Sharmian, wait."

  He turned at the door, scowling.

  Dena looked down at the handkerchief, twisting it. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. I know you're not like that, although it amazes me that you aren't. But I don't believe that you would ever have feelings for me, other than friendship."

  "Because you have a hump."

  "Yes."

  "If you did have a hump, I might not." He walked back to her. "Your back is slightly crooked, and you limp. What is so terrible about that?"

  "I really don't want to talk about this."

  "Well I do." He sat on the seat beside her. "When you stopped writing, I missed your letters. I got more pleasure from reading them than I did from the flirting of pretty ladies at court functions. I still have all of them, although I almost burnt them several times, I was so angry with you for abandoning our friendship."

  "Is that supposed to make me feel better?"

  "It is the truth."

  She sighed. "When I was a girl, I used to dream that a handsome prince would fall in love with me and sweep me off to his castle, where we would live happily ever after. As I got older, I realised that it was a stupid dream. It wasn't going to happen to me. Why would a handsome prince fall in love with me when there are so many beautiful ladies to choose from? Then I met you, not just a prince, but a king, and more handsome than I had ever imagined."

  Sharmian looked away, embarrassed, and Dena went on, "You actually seemed to like me, and you danced with me. Then you invited me to stay. Still, I wouldn't allow myself to believe it was anything other than an alliance with the Regent of Arlin. Even when you wrote to me, I thought that. Now you're telling me that, if not for Torrian, there's a chance there could be more than friendship between us. Yet still it cannot, and will not happen, because of him."

  Sharmian longed to comfort her, but did not want to make the situation worse. "Unfortunately, yes."

  "Tassin will regain her throne, even without your help. You'll just lose the alliance she offered you, and you'll be under Torrian's whip for the rest of your life. Unless I ask her to help you; then she may."

  "What are you saying?"

  "Nothing. It's the truth."

  He stood up, angry again. "You are trying to manipulate me, and it will not work."

  "I know. That's why I'm not. It's just the facts. You must make this decision alone."

  "And I have. It is too much of a risk, and all your tears and veiled promises will not sway me. I did not think you would stoop to such underhand tactics."

  "I'm not!" Dena looked away. "Oh, what's the use? It's hopeless anyway. You're hopeless."

  Sharmian stalked to the door and yanked it open, marching down the corridor to the rose garden to confront Tassin and tell her his decision. She sat on a bench talking to Sabre, and glanced up when he approached, looking concerned.

  "What is it, My Lord? You look angry."

  "I am. I have made my decision. I want no part of this crazy scheme, warrior mage or not. It is doomed from the start. Torrian will crush your little rebellion and execute you."

  Her brows rose. "Dena told you?"

  "Yes, and it sickens me that she would stoop so low."

  "Then you're a lesser man than I had thought. I am disappointed, My Lord. I had thought you were an honourable man."

  Sharmian glared at her, trying to ignore the flinty glint in Sabre's eyes. "If you thought I could be manipulated by tears and promises, you are very much mistaken, My Lady."

  "What promises?"

  "That she would reward my help with her affections. That was not like her. You put her up to this, and I despise you for it. You thought to play upon my friendship with her, and try to manipulate me with it. Well, it will not work."

  "I can see that. But I put her up to nothing, and I thought you wanted to find out her secret, yet you did not. You come marching out here under a thundercloud and throw accusations around, yet from the sounds of it, you have got completely the wrong end of the stick."

  He shook his head. "She told me that she would like more than friendship with me, but it is hopeless because of Torrian, and that you will regain your throne even without my help, leaving me under Torrian's yoke. Unless, of course, she asks you to help me, which she will not if I do not... court her, I suppose, or marry her perhaps? That is not the secret?"

  "No."

  "Then what is it, for pity's sake?"

  "Dena is very confused right now,” Tassin said. “I doubt you will get much sense out of her, but I will not betray her, even so. If you want to know the real secret, you will have to ask her."

  "She is lying to me."
/>
  "Of course she is. She does not want you to know."

  Sharmian threw up his hands. "Fine, let her keep her secret then."

  "You are angry with her for no good reason. She was not trying to manipulate you, My Lord."

  "Well she certainly did a good job of confusing me."

  "No mean feat with a clever man such as yourself. But she is also confused, angry, sad and despairing. She longs for comfort, but she is afraid of rejection."

  "I do not understand."

  Tassin inclined her head. "Then you need to talk to her some more. Her secret is a dark and ugly thing. Do not let her mislead you again if you want to know the truth."

  "You want me to know, do you not?"

  "I think you should, yes."

  "Then tell me, please."

  She sighed, gazing across the garden. "I cannot. It is too big, too... private."

  Sharmian snorted and marched back into the castle, his anger and frustration growing to explosive proportions. Banging open the door to Dena's room, he marched in and stopped dead. Dena lay sobbing on the bed, and raised a tear-ravaged face to glance at him before burying it in the bedclothes again.

  "Go away!" Her shout was muffled.

  "No." Sharmian sat beside her and gripped her shoulders, dragged her out of the bedclothes’ depths and turned her to face him. "Stop lying to me, damn you. Tell me the truth."

  "Why? You will revile me. Spurn me."

  "Why would I do that? For pity's sake, have some faith in me. You have succeeded in angering me beyond my wildest imaginings, and still you persist with your stubbornness. How the hell can I spurn you when all we have is friendship?"

  "And that's all we'll ever have, because you're too cowardly to fight Torrian," she said.

  "You are pushing it now, you really are. You are trying to play on affections that right now hang by a thread. Do not lie to me again, or our friendship ends here and now."

  Dena looked away, biting her lip, then glanced up at him again, wiping her eyes. Sharmian waited, his impatience growing along with his anger. She lifted a hand and stroked his cheek, surprising him. Her eyes overflowed again, but she was calm now, almost too calm for his liking.

  "It was a stupid dream, anyway," she said. "Even if I asked Tassin to free your kingdom, even if it could be, you wouldn't want me. Who am I trying to fool? Myself, of course. Stupid, stupid me. Your curiosity is obviously stronger than your friendship, if you can so easily cast it aside. Who cares? Not you. Your curiosity must be satisfied, mustn't it, Your Majesty? And even if Tassin freed your kingdom, and our friendship turned into more, you'd find out, and then it would all be ruined. Better to ruin it now; end all hope. Kinder, I suppose."

  "Stop talking in riddles."

  She glared at him. "I wasn't Countess De'vorice's servant. I was her prisoner. I spent three years in her dungeon, in the pitch dark, cold and starving. Sabre freed me."

  His anger drained away, leaving him chilled, and he released her. "That makes no difference. Why do you think I would spurn you for that?"

  "Not that." She looked away. "Torrian came to visit me in the dungeon. Many times."

  He jumped up, shaking his head. "No."

  "Yes."

  Sharmian swung away, bumped into a chair and gripped the back of it. A lump of anger and anguish blocked his throat. Dena lay back and closed her eyes, looking peaceful, as if she had shed a heavy load, and now was numb from carrying it. He had not realised until this moment just how strong his affection for her was. White-hot fury coursed through his veins, and his hands closed around the chair back as if it was Torrian's neck.

  Sharmian bowed his head, fighting the urge to vent his rage on the hapless chair. Releasing it, he flexed his aching hands, his mind in turmoil, then walked back to the bed. Dena opened her eyes and gazed up at him, the sorrow in their depths tearing his heart. She had the eyes of a doe, soft and liquid, and they had been melting his heart since the first time she had glanced at him. He sat on the bed beside her again, searching for the right words.

  "I ..." He looked away, unable to meet her eyes. "I am sorry." He held her hand. "But if you really thought I would spurn you for it, you are a fool. I may be a bastard, but I am not a bad one." Her face crumpled, and she wept again, to his horror. "Why are you crying now?"

  She shook her head, tugged her hand free and covered her face as great, shuddering sobs racked her.

  Sharmian, his confusion now complete, tried to think of a way to comfort her. "I am going to find Torrian and cut out his heart myself, and then bring it to you on a silver platter."

  She giggled. "You'll have to take a number."

  "I beg your pardon?"

  "Tassin also wants his heart on a plate, and I'll wager Sabre has promised it to her."

  "I think you have a greater claim."

  "We may have to draw straws."

  He nodded. "You really thought I would revile you for what he did to you?"

  "I was afraid. You're not an easy man to predict, or to read." She wiped her eyes. "I didn't dare to hope that you cared for me until Tassin told me that she thought you did, and then I realised what this might do to any chance we had of being together, if you freed yourself from under his boot. So what will you do? Have you decided yet?"

  "Yes. I will help Tassin, as much as I can."

  She smiled, rubbing her eyes again. "Thank you."

  "And we will spend a great deal of time together, getting to know each other better, I think."

  "I'd like that."

  "So, all that fuss and tears for nothing. Why did you not just tell me?"

  "I was ashamed. I didn't tell Tassin, she guessed. Sabre only knows because he overheard. He has ears like a bat. I didn't want anyone to know."

  He nodded. "But you knew that if our friendship turned into something more, I would find out. If, of course, I was free to pursue it. Which, if everything goes to plan, I will be."

  "You want us to be more than just friends?"

  "I am quite sure I just said that."

  "Say it again."

  Sharmian took her hand. "I knew you were special when I first met you, and I wanted to get to know you better right away. The more time I spent with you, the more fascinated I became. I have read all your letters many times."

  Dena sighed, her eyes dreamy. "The first time I saw you, I thought I was going to die. My heart stopped beating. I never imagined you would think of me as anything other than a potential ally, a friend to be curried for political reasons. When I heard about Torrian's hold over you, I wanted to help you, but a day later I lost everything."

  "If I had known what had happened to you, I would have done something." He looked down, frowning. "But you gave me no clue that you liked me this much. I might not have risked losing my crown on such a foolhardy gamble."

  "I didn't want you to know that a pathetic cripple like me had feelings for you.”

  "What a fool you are, to think so little of yourself."

  "I had a good reason. What's your excuse?"

  He smiled. "Aside from being Torrian's puppet, I also thought I had a good reason. I am a bastard, after all."

  "And I'm adopted; a commoner by blood."

  "But you are still a princess, regent of the most powerful kingdom in the world. I am the bastard king of a pauper nation, a puppet monarch with no power, without the freedom even to choose my wife, whom Torrian put on the throne so he could rule Mandor by proxy."

  "I wouldn't have cared if you'd been a beggar on the street."

  Sharmian kissed the back of her hand. "Are you all right now?"

  "I will be, if you hold me."

  He shook his head. "That would not be proper."

  "I don't care. There's no harm in an embrace between friends."

  "Ah, but we are not just friends anymore, we are courting now. Your queen had better succeed."

  Dena sat up and hugged him. “I don’t care, and she will. Tassin has never failed at anything. Once she makes up her mind to do some
thing, I pity anyone who stands in her way.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Tassin gazed at the assembled troops who stood before the castle in disorderly ranks. Their polished helms flashed in the sun and the red and gold pennants on their spears fluttered in the wind that always seemed to blow in Mandor. Clearly most of them were raw recruits, but she could sense their eagerness. Mounted veteran officers marshalled them, resplendent in polished armour and spotless livery, their cavorting destriers clad in chain mail and plumes. Beyond the men, the drab landscape formed a dismal backdrop of grey crags and hardy grass. A distant village nestled in a valley, where it gleaned a little respite from the wind.

  She turned to Sharmian. "Four thousand? I only asked for three."

  He shrugged, smiling. "I was also surprised. Within a week of my call to arms they were queuing at stations to enlist. These are the first to join; other recruits are still in training."

  "You cannot train good soldiers in three weeks."

  "No. Unfortunately not, but they are good men, and courageous."

  "Yes." She smiled. "And how goes your courtship, My Lord?"

  "Very well. We have decided to be wed before the war starts."

  "So soon? Is that wise?"

  "We may lose our lives in it. We want to share our love first."

  Tassin nodded. "A thought that has crossed my mind many times." She glanced around with a smile as Sabre came to her side.

  Sharmian said, "Dena tells me that you and Sir Sabre plan to wed. Perhaps we should make it a double celebration."

  She cast the cyber a calculating look, which he ignored. "Unfortunately, my marriage is a matter of state, and must be conducted in my kingdom by my priests."

  "You could always have a second ceremony for officialdom."

  "That is true, but unlike you, I must wait to be asked. Perhaps you could give Sabre the benefit of your wisdom. I shall leave you to it."

  As Tassin wandered off, Sabre cast Sharmian a flinty-eyed look. Nevertheless, the young king met it with an honest gaze.

  "Sir Sabre, any man in your position would be eager to enter into a blessed union with such a lovely girl."