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 sat beside him most of the time, stroked his face and willed him to get better. Sometimes, she told him about her past experiences and future plans. Sabre’s colour improved, and he grew a soft beard, but she dared not shave him with the razor-sharp knife he 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 cliff’s edge and gazed down at the warmer climes below, wishing she could get down to them. The thought of leaving him did cross her mind. She might be able to reach Olgara in time to find men and come back before he died of dehydration, but she was unwilling to take the chance that she might not make it back in time. He 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 a red flash caught her eye. Erratic red lights flickered to and fro along the length of Sabre’s brow band, and her breath caught. His eyes flicked open, his brow furrowed in a deep frown, and his hands flashed up to grip the band. After a moment of stunned surprise, Tassin grabbed his arms and tried to stop him. His eyes were wild and white-ringed, his lips drawn back in a snarl. She struggled to prise his fingers 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 his fingers whitened as he strived to pull the band off, gasping harshly through clenched teeth.
“Sabre! Stop it, you can’t get it off!”
Sabre’s battle with the brow band continued for another few seconds before his eyes rolled back and closed, and he slumped. 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 rubbed the throbbing lump on the back of her skull, then found a cloth in one of the bags and wiped the blood off his face. She used a strip of blanket 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 off? 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 slept as far from him as she could. She woke several times shivering, since Sabre had most of the blankets. She longed for his warmth, but the fear of further violence kept her away.
Tassin roused at dawn, and wondered what had woken her. She shivered and chafed her hands to try to warm them, then froze when Sabre groaned softly. Sporadic red flashes lighted the brow band every now and then. She leant closer to peer at his face. His eyes were closed, and he twitched, his hands clenching and opening. His deep, husky groans seemed to indicate that he was in pain. She wondered if she should do anything. After a few minutes, the brow band darkened, and he fell silent. Relieved, she crawled out 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 that the tempo of his breathing had changed. His eyelids fluttered, then his eyes opened slowly. Tassin held her breath, but the brow band remained black. He gazed at the rock above him for what seemed like an age before turning his head towards her. She gasped as his eyes focussed on her face, roaming over it. He 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. His eyes glimmered and overflowed, and tears ran down the sides of his head into his hair. He swallowed and blinked.
“I...” The sound of his own voice appeared to startle him. He swallowed again. “I’m free,” he whispered. A slight smile curved his lips, and he gazed at the roof with a bemused, wondering expression.
“I’m... free,” he whispered again, in a disbelieving tone. He tried to raise an arm, discovered that he was bound and turned his head to regard her with a mixture of puzzlement and wariness, as if unsure of who and what she was. Tassin realised that she was holding her breath again and let it out. His eyes flicked to the strip of blanket that bound his wrist, then back at her. Suspicion, caution and puzzlement warred for supremacy in his expression. He licked his lips and stared at the roof once more. She sensed that his situation perplexed him deeply, and he struggled to accept it. This was not the 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 appeared almost afraid of her.
He looked 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, and she gulped.
“I am not... You were hurting yourself.”
“Tassin,” he said, as if remembering.
“Yes.”
His eyes closed, and more tears leaked down the sides 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.”
She crawled closer, fascinated by his smile. “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, 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 a cramped 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 brow 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. He had told her the brow band had been fitted when he was a baby, anyway. The knots fell away, and she shrank back 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 levered himself onto his elbows. His scanned the cave with obvious wonder, as if he had been blind all his life.
“I can see. I’m truly free.” He lifted a hand to inspect it, flexing his fingers. “I’m in control.” His face twisted and muscles rippled along his jaw. He lay back and traced the thin scars on the back of his hand with trembling fingers.
“Those bastards...” Fresh tears overflowed, and he squeezed his eyes shut, raising his hands to cover his face as he stifled a sob.
Tassin’s eyes stung, but she had no idea what to say. His hands encountered the brow band, and his fingers curled around it, whitening as if he would try once more to tear the hated thing from his head. She chewed her lip, hoping he would remain calm. He released it and ground his hands into his eyes, then turned his head away.
Driven by pity and an intense need to comfort him, she reached out and stroked his hair. He shuddered and flinched away, and she sat back. His weeping alarmed her. She had never seen a man cry before, and Sabre’s tears were all the more incongruous because he was such a peerless warrior. How could she know what he had suffered, though
?
Years of pent-up emotions and suffering clearly demanded release, and his shoulders shook with silent sobs. His ability to vent his sorrow and pain in tears confirmed the gentleness she had sensed in him. A hard man would have rejoiced at his freedom and had only bitterness and hatred for his torturers, but Sabre seemed to mourn 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.
He rolled onto his back again and rubbed his eyes. “Have you got any water?” His voice was husky.
“Yes, of course.” She handed him a water skin, and he drank from it, his hands shaking. “Are you hurt? Are you in pain?”
Sabre lowered the skin. “My head hurts, and I have a few bruises.” He shifted and winced. “Quite a lot of bruises.”
His apparent weakness reassured her a little, but she knew his ability to overcome pain. “You fell a long way. It is amazing you did not break any bones.”
His expression became dejected. He shot her an almost shy look and pulled a face. “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 gave him some dried meat, which he chewed while he studied the rock above him as if he had never seen anything so beautiful before. He seemed to have recovered from his initial shock, and his expression was guarded, but his shadowed eyes 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. 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.”
Her jaw dropped. “Surely your parents gave you a name?”
He sighed. “I’m really tired right now.” His speech was a little slurred, and his eyes closed after a brief struggle. She guessed that he was afraid he would awaken under the cyber’s control again. He lost the battle with sleep, and she re-tied his hands, just in case.
Tassin’s questions multiplied while she waited for him to wake up again. He seemed too weak to be a threat, and she was now convinced that he would not hurt her, anyway. She hoped the brow band’s magic would stay off, so no more violent episodes would occur. When she settled down for the night, he still slept.
A grating and sense of movement woke Tassin, and her eyes sprang open. Early morning sunlight streamed in through the cave entrance, and Sabre’s back was arched in a violent spasm, the brow band sparkling with erratic red lights. He strained at the bonds, and she cowered when he thrashed. His face was twisted, his breath hissed through gritted teeth, and veins stood out on his neck. A low groan escaped him, and he muttered in an alien language.
Sabre jerked his head from side to side as if trying to smash the band on his forehead. She shifted closer and held his head still, afraid that he would hurt himself. His eyes remained closed, and he appeared to be locked in an immense internal struggle.
After a few minutes, the brow band went black, and Sabre opened his eyes. He tried to sit up, discovering that he was bound again. She untied him, and he sat up and clasped his head, frowning.
“Does it hurt?” she enquired.
“Like hell.”
“Perhaps there is something in your pouch for pain?”
Sabre drew out the pouch and rummaged in it, extracting a bottle. He shook some little white things into his hand and popped them into his mouth, then drank from the water skin. He sat unmoving for several minutes, his chin sunk onto his chest, clutching his head. When he looked up, his face was haggard. He had lost weight while he had been unconscious, and he looked gaunt and sick, stubble blurring his chin.
“Is it better now?” she asked.
Sabre nodded and drank more water, then helped himself to some meat. After he had eaten, he crawled out of the cave, swaying when he stood up outside to blink in the sunlight. He scanned the panoramic view from the ledge.
“Hell, are we still up here?”
Tassin giggled. “Did you think I could carry you down the mountain? You weigh a tonne.”
He pulled a face. “Twelve kilos of barrinium reinforcing, welded to my bones.”
“They did terrible things to you, did they not?”
His gave a harsh bark of laughter. “That’s the understatement of the century.”
Sabre’s husky laughter surprised and delighted her. His smile revealed even white teeth and lighted his face. It vanished as quickly as it had appeared, and he walked, staggering a little, to the frozen bodies of Torrian’s men. He examined the laser burns on the corpses with a frown.
“I didn’t kill these.”
“No, I did. After I climbed down here and found that you were still alive, they were coming after me, so I aimed your magic weapon at them and pushed the buttons.”
“Clever girl. Then you dragged me into the cave and stayed there with me... how long?”
“Four days.” Tassin disliked being called ‘girl’, but quelled the urge to rebuke him. He went back to the cave and lay down again, plainly exhausted, and she settled beside him.
“What happened to you?” The question burst from her, driven by her curiosity.
“When?”
“On Myontwo.”
“Ah.” He smiled. “The cyber didn’t tell you much, did it?”
“Cyber,” she repeated it the way he had pronounced it. “What does that mean?”
“This is the cyber.” He tapped the brow band.
“Not sabre.”
“No. Cyber.”
“It told me little that I could understand.”
“It’s not something I like to remember.” He sighed, and his eyes wandered to the cave entrance.