"2567-24" - читать интересную книгу автора (Jerome Bigge - Warlady 5 - The Warlady Of Dularn)"THE WARLADY OF DULARN" 2567 A.D.! By Jerome Bigge Chapter Twenty Four Lars Debolt watched the sun set there in the west, the glow- ing ball disappearing beneath the waves. Sandi at his side, her silver neck chain glistening against the tanned skin of her love- ly neck. He found her beautiful, a "wife" beyond compare. The sort of a wife that a man might cherish for the rest of his life. His arm now drew possessively tight around her body, holding her close, Sandi in turn then gently caressing him as women do when there is no "need" for words. When the thought of death is near. Queen Maris had "married" them, although they would see the Priestesses when they reached Dularn, and pledge their love again before Lys. She Who Was The Mistress Of All, Life Everlasting. "One last battle and then `home'," Sandi spoke softly, her eyes glowing up into his. She did not think the Queen yet lived. Or that man from the "time of legends" as some called it. Carol would doubtlessly die "the death of the Warrioress", finally put- ting to rest the "demon" that now drove her like some madwoman! Perhaps she and the Imperial Warlady would die together, their swords buried to the hilt in each other's hearts. That, Sandi thought, would be a fitting "end" for a woman like Carol Simmons. "They were a `warlike people'," he said, his thoughts much different than hers just then. He was Dularnian, and Sandi was of his country, a woman who "understood" as no Californian would. "A people who fought war after war from what the history books tell us," he mused, looking out over the gleaming restless sea. "Even their children," Sandi breathed, thinking of Sharon. The Imperial Princess. A beauty almost like Darlanis, but like their Warlady too. A woman who might someday rule their Empire. "When there is gold about your throat...," he said, looking down into her eyes, holding her in his arms. Sandi nodded. She would be a good mother. Teach her sons to respect women, teach her daughters the sword, the bow, so that they might stand beside their men when the enemy came once again seeking women and gold. "Can you `undo' me?" Maris asked, turning her back to me as we both prepared for bed early that evening. The sensual curves of her rear end reminded me muchly of Carol's. We had been given a bedroom there in Lorraine's manor. There were, I knew, guards- men about. Those of Sarnian Lady too and the other two ships. I wondered if Carol would try an "attack". I hoped "wiser heads" might prevail. Taking on Darlanis and "taking on" Lorraine were two utterly different matters. Lorraine deserved the title of "Warlady of the Empire of California". She was truly a "Warlady". A "professional fighting woman", a member of the Caste of Warrioresses. The greatest swordswoman of all time, some had said. I considered it quite likely, knowing Lorraine! I felt the brush of Maris' rump against my groin, the sensu- al warmth of her body, felt "desire" for her. She was beautiful, a "blonde", her hair long, golden, her eyes a rich emerald color. The dark blue silk of her long evening gown concealed "little". She turned about, her lips moist, open, breasts, nipples outlined beneath her gown. I knew she was completely nude beneath it. As "naked" as any of the collared sluts now "pleasing" strong men. Lady Tirana had taken Keri aside, spoken in low heated words to her. I suspected that she had pointed out the situation to Keri! That both Maris and I were now legally "prisoners of war" and that as long as Carol lived, I would continue to be her husband. I suspected Keri now hoped that Lorraine might make me a widower. "It is `hard' for me too," Maris breathed, looking up into my eyes. I smelled the odor of her perfume, and another "odor" too. It was "different" than Carol's, but yet "recognizable" as being but only one thing. The "scent" of a now sexually aroused woman! Such "odors" are unmistakable to one familiar with women. "You are the Queen of Dularn," I said, looking into her eyes as she stood there, the "fire" burning in their depths leaving no doubts as to the thoughts that went through her mind just then. "I am also a `woman'," Maris breathed, her voice "husky". "It is time," Carol said, La-ra nodding. Carol had removed her collar, given her weapons, the clothing of a free woman. There were no longer any slave girls on the North Star. "And may God have mercy on our souls," the brownette smiled at the Nevada. La-ra nodding, and mentally then "correcting" her name for Lys. "Maris," I breathed, holding her, the "taste" of her mouth yet on my lips. I felt the warmth, the feminine softness of her. The sensual curves of her body pressed up against mine. I knew she was sexually aroused, warm and wet, "ready" for me right now! "There is...," Maris spoke softly, "A way...," Her eyes burned up into mine. I felt the sweet curves of her belly, the feminine warmth of her body. I wondered if Lorraine had planned it to "happen" this way. I suspected that it was quite possible! She would have a degree of "control" over us both that she would not have had otherwise. A woman "in love" doesn't think clearly! "I `love Carol'," I said, forcing Maris from me, holding her at arms length. I knew the pangs, the cravings of the "addict"! She was a beautiful woman, blonde, ripe bodied. And "desirable"! I thought of Carol. Of the taste of her mouth. Of her own odor. The way that she "clung" when we made love. Of the arena when I had stood beside Carol, knowing that I had found my own Warlady! "I used to be a pretty good `milkmaid' when I was a girl," Maris said to me, her eyes like green fire burning hot up into my own. I knew that she was not using the term "milkmaid" as I or anyone of the 20th Century might so use it, but in "another" way! My memories of my teenage years flooded back. I had no "doubts" what she meant by the term "milkmaid". Little ever "changes"!!! "`Milkmaid'?" I breathed, wanting to throw her from me, any- thing to end this maddening desire I had for the Queen of Dularn! I wanted to strike her down, to bring blood to those soft lips! "I've `milked' a few `bulls' in my time," Maris said to me. The smile on her lips left no doubt of what she was speaking of. It is called "milking the bull" by the Dularnian teenage girl too young yet to engage in ordinary sexual intercourse or the even greater intimacy of oral sex as practiced by people of this era. "There's still enough `glow' on the horizon to spot us," Lars said to Carol as she gave the orders. The brownette nod- ding, a "Valkyrie" standing there on the quarterdeck. He won- dered if he would ever see her again. Or his beloved Sandi for that matter. He wondered what it would be like to be the husband of a woman like this one. She was "dominant", totally so, much like the legendary Lorraine. Yet, he suspected, she was also a woman who could love like no other, who could "please" a man like no other could. Bob, at least, had thought so much of his wife. He had once told him that there was no other woman in the entire world who could "match" his fantastic Carol. Lars believed it!!! "When I was a girl in Sana, still a virgin, we would be `in- timate' without having sexual intercourse," Maris said to me now. Young Dularnian girls as a rule prize their virginity highly. I know Lorraine once made "fun" of all this, but in some ways I do think the Dularnians "know a little something about things" here! Promiscuity is frowned upon for either sex, and a girl who comes home with "blood on her strap" from losing her virginity had bet- ter have a ring there on her finger signifying her engagement!* * One might note Darlanis' reaction when she caught Lorraine's foster daughter Gayle and the Prince of Talon "together". (J.B.) "We used to call that `necking and petting' in our time," I said to the Queen of Dularn as she stood there before me, the silk of her gown concealing very little of her "feminine charms". I thought of Carol, wondered what she was thinking right now. I recalled seeing her dance, the sensual beauty of that fantastic body, Carol being the sort of a woman who could grace centerfolds although she didn't have a beautiful face to go with her figure! I thought of Keri, tall, slim, in a way like Lorraine or her own grandmother, but in other ways utterly different. She was actu- ally a more "regal" woman I thought than the Queen of Dularn was! I thought of Lorraine, whose mother had "been" a French Countess. "If Carol `attacks', there will `nothing left'," Maris said. I knew the "truth" of that. Lorraine was not Darlanis. She was even "better" than Lady Tirana. And she had the crews off both her own ships, a total of about three hundred men and women plus those from Sarnian Lady! The North Star had a crew of ninety. I knew of seven deaths from what Darlanis had told me, (two more died aboard the ship later on) and adding in the two who were captured, Carol now had only about eighty left to fight four hun- dred or more! And all under the "command" of Lorraine Richards herself, the greatest fighting woman of all time, I'd been told! "She will `attack'," I said, knowing my beloved brownette. "And she will `die'," Maris said to me. I nodded back. I knew my brownette. The "odds" would mean "nothing" to her "now". Lorraine's "hostility" towards Carol also puzzled me. She was "friendly" towards me, so far as things went, but whenever I said anything about Carol the Warlady would "stiffen up" as if she had some deep seated hatred of my lovely brownette that I couldn't explain. And so far as I knew, Carol had never done anything to Lorraine back in our own era, although they were not "friends". In her first book she wrote that she felt she had "wronged" Car- ol, but she never went into further detail and to this day I have no idea of what she was thinking about at the time she wrote all this. Yet, Lorraine did not kill Carol when she had the chance! On the other hand she did "mark" Carol's face in a way so that we would know that my wife now lived only because she so wished it!! ***************************************************************** Princess Sela Dai, small, brunette, a beauty of Talon, the silver links of a neck chain gleaming about her throat, stood on the end of the dock and stared out at the last remains of the sunset. Somewhere out there was a ship, commanded by a woman who by now might have either died in a sword duel or now was in total command of that ship. A woman to whom the Caste Codes meant nothing. A woman who was in her thinking as "alien" as a Lorr!!! "I fear the night, what it will bring," Sela spoke, moving into the arms of her captain, her Prince, Mark Berson of the Squala. She had kept her last name, as was done in Talon, the "Dai" clan having ruled that country for centuries, Queen after Queen. Her mother, Dala, now its present ruler. Talon, like Du- larn, was a "Queendom", a land where only a woman could rule. A land where women still spoke of the time when one woman had ruled the world. A woman who had for a brief few decades, ushered in a "Golden Age" for all of Mankind that had never been seen before or after! The fantastic Janet Rogers, who yet "lived" in legend. ***************************************************************** "Ohh!" Maris gasped there on the bed, her naked body only a paler shadow against the darkness of the bedspread. I felt the contractions of her vagina around my fingers as she climaxed, the liquid "softness" of her inner tissues different in its way than those of Carol's. She laid face down, her thighs open, while I sat on the bed next to her. I had not wished to allow her to "milk" me. Even if by the standards of Dularn it was not consid- ered "sexual intercourse", I did not think Carol would have ever looked upon it in that light. And I could not conceive of my brownette not returning for me. Despite whatever Lorraine did, or didn't do, Carol would come back for me. I knew that, just as I knew the sun would rise in the morning. And I did not think that it would be the sort of an "attack" that Lorraine now half expected it to be! Carol was a "crafty wench", and no "fool"!!! "Don't drop that ballistae!" Carol snapped as the boats were unloaded. The North Star only a greater darkness out there now. The ballistae, while not all that "heavy", was a bit "awkward" to handle, especially in the darkness when you couldn't see what you were doing. The weapon itself weighed about two hundred pounds. The bipod was twenty or so. The bolts were three pounds apiece. She had sent La-ra up ahead, the wench dragging up a long rope. Such would be of assistance in getting the weapons, people up the sides of these cliffs in the darkness. Maris had climbed them once, La-ra had told her, but Carol wanted to make sure that ev- eryone made it safely to the top, so thus the hundred foot rope. "And you can call me a `bitch' later!" my wife snapped, her hand there on the rope as she started climbing the cliff up into the darkness of the forest above, a few trees peeking down, a grim smile now curving her lips at the low curses of those below her! "THE WARLADY OF DULARN" 2567 A.D.! By Jerome Bigge Chapter Twenty Four Lars Debolt watched the sun set there in the west, the glow- ing ball disappearing beneath the waves. Sandi at his side, her silver neck chain glistening against the tanned skin of her love- ly neck. He found her beautiful, a "wife" beyond compare. The sort of a wife that a man might cherish for the rest of his life. His arm now drew possessively tight around her body, holding her close, Sandi in turn then gently caressing him as women do when there is no "need" for words. When the thought of death is near. Queen Maris had "married" them, although they would see the Priestesses when they reached Dularn, and pledge their love again before Lys. She Who Was The Mistress Of All, Life Everlasting. "One last battle and then `home'," Sandi spoke softly, her eyes glowing up into his. She did not think the Queen yet lived. Or that man from the "time of legends" as some called it. Carol would doubtlessly die "the death of the Warrioress", finally put- ting to rest the "demon" that now drove her like some madwoman! Perhaps she and the Imperial Warlady would die together, their swords buried to the hilt in each other's hearts. That, Sandi thought, would be a fitting "end" for a woman like Carol Simmons. "They were a `warlike people'," he said, his thoughts much different than hers just then. He was Dularnian, and Sandi was of his country, a woman who "understood" as no Californian would. "A people who fought war after war from what the history books tell us," he mused, looking out over the gleaming restless sea. "Even their children," Sandi breathed, thinking of Sharon. The Imperial Princess. A beauty almost like Darlanis, but like their Warlady too. A woman who might someday rule their Empire. "When there is gold about your throat...," he said, looking down into her eyes, holding her in his arms. Sandi nodded. She would be a good mother. Teach her sons to respect women, teach her daughters the sword, the bow, so that they might stand beside their men when the enemy came once again seeking women and gold. "Can you `undo' me?" Maris asked, turning her back to me as we both prepared for bed early that evening. The sensual curves of her rear end reminded me muchly of Carol's. We had been given a bedroom there in Lorraine's manor. There were, I knew, guards- men about. Those of Sarnian Lady too and the other two ships. I wondered if Carol would try an "attack". I hoped "wiser heads" might prevail. Taking on Darlanis and "taking on" Lorraine were two utterly different matters. Lorraine deserved the title of "Warlady of the Empire of California". She was truly a "Warlady". A "professional fighting woman", a member of the Caste of Warrioresses. The greatest swordswoman of all time, some had said. I considered it quite likely, knowing Lorraine! I felt the brush of Maris' rump against my groin, the sensu- al warmth of her body, felt "desire" for her. She was beautiful, a "blonde", her hair long, golden, her eyes a rich emerald color. The dark blue silk of her long evening gown concealed "little". She turned about, her lips moist, open, breasts, nipples outlined beneath her gown. I knew she was completely nude beneath it. As "naked" as any of the collared sluts now "pleasing" strong men. Lady Tirana had taken Keri aside, spoken in low heated words to her. I suspected that she had pointed out the situation to Keri! That both Maris and I were now legally "prisoners of war" and that as long as Carol lived, I would continue to be her husband. I suspected Keri now hoped that Lorraine might make me a widower. "It is `hard' for me too," Maris breathed, looking up into my eyes. I smelled the odor of her perfume, and another "odor" too. It was "different" than Carol's, but yet "recognizable" as being but only one thing. The "scent" of a now sexually aroused woman! Such "odors" are unmistakable to one familiar with women. "You are the Queen of Dularn," I said, looking into her eyes as she stood there, the "fire" burning in their depths leaving no doubts as to the thoughts that went through her mind just then. "I am also a `woman'," Maris breathed, her voice "husky". "It is time," Carol said, La-ra nodding. Carol had removed her collar, given her weapons, the clothing of a free woman. There were no longer any slave girls on the North Star. "And may God have mercy on our souls," the brownette smiled at the Nevada. La-ra nodding, and mentally then "correcting" her name for Lys. "Maris," I breathed, holding her, the "taste" of her mouth yet on my lips. I felt the warmth, the feminine softness of her. The sensual curves of her body pressed up against mine. I knew she was sexually aroused, warm and wet, "ready" for me right now! "There is...," Maris spoke softly, "A way...," Her eyes burned up into mine. I felt the sweet curves of her belly, the feminine warmth of her body. I wondered if Lorraine had planned it to "happen" this way. I suspected that it was quite possible! She would have a degree of "control" over us both that she would not have had otherwise. A woman "in love" doesn't think clearly! "I `love Carol'," I said, forcing Maris from me, holding her at arms length. I knew the pangs, the cravings of the "addict"! She was a beautiful woman, blonde, ripe bodied. And "desirable"! I thought of Carol. Of the taste of her mouth. Of her own odor. The way that she "clung" when we made love. Of the arena when I had stood beside Carol, knowing that I had found my own Warlady! "I used to be a pretty good `milkmaid' when I was a girl," Maris said to me, her eyes like green fire burning hot up into my own. I knew that she was not using the term "milkmaid" as I or anyone of the 20th Century might so use it, but in "another" way! My memories of my teenage years flooded back. I had no "doubts" what she meant by the term "milkmaid". Little ever "changes"!!! "`Milkmaid'?" I breathed, wanting to throw her from me, any- thing to end this maddening desire I had for the Queen of Dularn! I wanted to strike her down, to bring blood to those soft lips! "I've `milked' a few `bulls' in my time," Maris said to me. The smile on her lips left no doubt of what she was speaking of. It is called "milking the bull" by the Dularnian teenage girl too young yet to engage in ordinary sexual intercourse or the even greater intimacy of oral sex as practiced by people of this era. "There's still enough `glow' on the horizon to spot us," Lars said to Carol as she gave the orders. The brownette nod- ding, a "Valkyrie" standing there on the quarterdeck. He won- dered if he would ever see her again. Or his beloved Sandi for that matter. He wondered what it would be like to be the husband of a woman like this one. She was "dominant", totally so, much like the legendary Lorraine. Yet, he suspected, she was also a woman who could love like no other, who could "please" a man like no other could. Bob, at least, had thought so much of his wife. He had once told him that there was no other woman in the entire world who could "match" his fantastic Carol. Lars believed it!!! "When I was a girl in Sana, still a virgin, we would be `in- timate' without having sexual intercourse," Maris said to me now. Young Dularnian girls as a rule prize their virginity highly. I know Lorraine once made "fun" of all this, but in some ways I do think the Dularnians "know a little something about things" here! Promiscuity is frowned upon for either sex, and a girl who comes home with "blood on her strap" from losing her virginity had bet- ter have a ring there on her finger signifying her engagement!* * One might note Darlanis' reaction when she caught Lorraine's foster daughter Gayle and the Prince of Talon "together". (J.B.) "We used to call that `necking and petting' in our time," I said to the Queen of Dularn as she stood there before me, the silk of her gown concealing very little of her "feminine charms". I thought of Carol, wondered what she was thinking right now. I recalled seeing her dance, the sensual beauty of that fantastic body, Carol being the sort of a woman who could grace centerfolds although she didn't have a beautiful face to go with her figure! I thought of Keri, tall, slim, in a way like Lorraine or her own grandmother, but in other ways utterly different. She was actu- ally a more "regal" woman I thought than the Queen of Dularn was! I thought of Lorraine, whose mother had "been" a French Countess. "If Carol `attacks', there will `nothing left'," Maris said. I knew the "truth" of that. Lorraine was not Darlanis. She was even "better" than Lady Tirana. And she had the crews off both her own ships, a total of about three hundred men and women plus those from Sarnian Lady! The North Star had a crew of ninety. I knew of seven deaths from what Darlanis had told me, (two more died aboard the ship later on) and adding in the two who were captured, Carol now had only about eighty left to fight four hun- dred or more! And all under the "command" of Lorraine Richards herself, the greatest fighting woman of all time, I'd been told! "She will `attack'," I said, knowing my beloved brownette. "And she will `die'," Maris said to me. I nodded back. I knew my brownette. The "odds" would mean "nothing" to her "now". Lorraine's "hostility" towards Carol also puzzled me. She was "friendly" towards me, so far as things went, but whenever I said anything about Carol the Warlady would "stiffen up" as if she had some deep seated hatred of my lovely brownette that I couldn't explain. And so far as I knew, Carol had never done anything to Lorraine back in our own era, although they were not "friends". In her first book she wrote that she felt she had "wronged" Car- ol, but she never went into further detail and to this day I have no idea of what she was thinking about at the time she wrote all this. Yet, Lorraine did not kill Carol when she had the chance! On the other hand she did "mark" Carol's face in a way so that we would know that my wife now lived only because she so wished it!! ***************************************************************** Princess Sela Dai, small, brunette, a beauty of Talon, the silver links of a neck chain gleaming about her throat, stood on the end of the dock and stared out at the last remains of the sunset. Somewhere out there was a ship, commanded by a woman who by now might have either died in a sword duel or now was in total command of that ship. A woman to whom the Caste Codes meant nothing. A woman who was in her thinking as "alien" as a Lorr!!! "I fear the night, what it will bring," Sela spoke, moving into the arms of her captain, her Prince, Mark Berson of the Squala. She had kept her last name, as was done in Talon, the "Dai" clan having ruled that country for centuries, Queen after Queen. Her mother, Dala, now its present ruler. Talon, like Du- larn, was a "Queendom", a land where only a woman could rule. A land where women still spoke of the time when one woman had ruled the world. A woman who had for a brief few decades, ushered in a "Golden Age" for all of Mankind that had never been seen before or after! The fantastic Janet Rogers, who yet "lived" in legend. ***************************************************************** "Ohh!" Maris gasped there on the bed, her naked body only a paler shadow against the darkness of the bedspread. I felt the contractions of her vagina around my fingers as she climaxed, the liquid "softness" of her inner tissues different in its way than those of Carol's. She laid face down, her thighs open, while I sat on the bed next to her. I had not wished to allow her to "milk" me. Even if by the standards of Dularn it was not consid- ered "sexual intercourse", I did not think Carol would have ever looked upon it in that light. And I could not conceive of my brownette not returning for me. Despite whatever Lorraine did, or didn't do, Carol would come back for me. I knew that, just as I knew the sun would rise in the morning. And I did not think that it would be the sort of an "attack" that Lorraine now half expected it to be! Carol was a "crafty wench", and no "fool"!!! "Don't drop that ballistae!" Carol snapped as the boats were unloaded. The North Star only a greater darkness out there now. The ballistae, while not all that "heavy", was a bit "awkward" to handle, especially in the darkness when you couldn't see what you were doing. The weapon itself weighed about two hundred pounds. The bipod was twenty or so. The bolts were three pounds apiece. She had sent La-ra up ahead, the wench dragging up a long rope. Such would be of assistance in getting the weapons, people up the sides of these cliffs in the darkness. Maris had climbed them once, La-ra had told her, but Carol wanted to make sure that ev- eryone made it safely to the top, so thus the hundred foot rope. "And you can call me a `bitch' later!" my wife snapped, her hand there on the rope as she started climbing the cliff up into the darkness of the forest above, a few trees peeking down, a grim smile now curving her lips at the low curses of those below her! |
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