The Cyber Chronicles VII - Sabre (16 page)

"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?"