"2568-01" - читать интересную книгу автора (Jerome Bigge - Warlady 6 - In Harms Way)"IN HARM'S WAY" AN ADVENTURE IN THE SECOND DARK AGE OF MAN By Robert J. Simmons Chapter One My unicorn was just a bit skitterish on the icy street as he followed the trotting mare of the Royal Warrioress ahead through the blowing snow of this late winter blizzard. Few of the resi- dents of Arsana we passed paying us any attention, their collars pulled up high, caps and hats snugged down tight on their heads as they scurried along the now slippery walks to their destina- tions, the store fronts and brick condominiums side by side like a wall fronting the street on either side all tightly shuttered for the night. Night had already fallen, and I thought regret- fully again of that fine roast beef dinner with carrots and pota- toes that Kathi had fixed for Carol and I. I had been looking forward to a quiet peaceful evening with my wife, nearly three months pregnant with our baby girl, Kathi attentive to our every need, but when the Queen of Dularn "beckons", one dares not say "no"... As the Admiral of Dularn I had my "duties" to the Queen. It was the first of March, the year 2568 A.D. as I think of it. The people of this era saw it however as 521 A.W., marking time now from The War of 2047 between Earth and the planet Mars. In any case it was not a night for man or beast, I growled to my- self, my greatcoat collar pulled up, my tricornered hat as Admi- ral of the Royal Navy pulled down tight against the wind that threatened to blow it from my head. My sword slapping against my thigh as my stallion trotted after the mare just ahead of him, a gust of wind blowing a handful of icy snowflakes up into my face. Arsana is built on the ruins of Victoria on the Island of Vancou- ver, although none but historians call the island that now. To everyone else now it is "Dularn", or "God's Land" as the early settlers called it after The War of 2047 when Mankind reverted to a barbaric and primitive style of life similar to that of Twelfth Century Europe during the Dark Ages after the "fall" of Rome. It is a lovely land, at least in warm weather, but the winters can be unpleasant, perhaps due to the long term climatic effects from the use of anti-matter bombs by the Lorr some five centuries ago. The sudden "Ice Age" of the second half of the 21st Century caused by the Lorr's bombing still not completely over even now. So far as I knew our peace treaties with the Empire of Cali- fornia to the south still held, although Darlanis is yet still an "ambitious" Empress, and one who still dreams of being a "second Janet Rogers", the first having once been the ruler of the world. There was also Lorraine Richards, once of the 20th Century like Carol and I, who as a student of weaponry and war, had become the "Warlady of California" as well as the Queen of Free Trelandar, a land that once had been southern California in a time now "myth". Arsana is a walled city of about thirty thousand, somewhat smaller than such great capitals as Sarn and Trella to the south, but yet an adequate sized city, especially in a technology where one either rides an animal or has said animal pull you in a buggy or carriage of some sort. In such a social order, life is much different from that of the 20th Century, and a trip of a hundred miles can take you days by land, instead of a couple hours behind the steering wheel of an automobile down a modern freeway. This is the sort of a thing that eventually makes you realize just how much the world has "changed", and that what you took for granted back in the 20th Century doesn't even exist now except as words in a history book. There are no telephones, no TV or radio. You either go read a book or attend a play or lecture as "entertain- ment" in this era. People work hard, harder than they ever did in our time, with a standard "workweek" of about sixty hours or so with yet little if any machinery to "ease" one's labors. On the other hand it is a social order that has a "vitality" about it that ours didn't. People in this society take politics seri- ously, and one can hear serious discussions often carried on in the workshops and places of business about the "merits" of var- ious ideas, about how "good" a Queen Maris Marn "is" or isn't. I have no doubt that these people take their "politics" seriously. Personal freedom is considerably greater than it was back in the 20th Century. The "right" to keep and bear arms is taken for granted by all Dularnians. The idea that a "democratic" govern- ment could dare "disarm" you and that you would not rise up against that government is something few people here can "under- stand". The same is perhaps "true" in the field of drugs, in the issue of "prostitution", and a number of other things. A "line" has been "drawn", and both the Queen and the Senate know better than to "cross" it. Taxes are low, and "welfare" almost non-ex- istant... This is an "Aryan-Nordic" culture, quite "different" from my era. The concept of "civil rights" being unknown here. Hunched up on the back of my mount, I saw the gates of the palace opening before us, the Warrioress trotting on through just ahead of me and then dismounting to take my reins as I swung my leg up over the back of my unicorn stallion, my face already numb from the cold as the snowflakes came pouring down from the sky, the lamps on their posts only dim glows in this blowing blizzard. The palace there before us like a massive pile of cold wet stone. "All I know, Admiral Simmons, is that her `majesty' said it was `important'," the woman repeated as I faced her, her walnut hair there beneath her helmet now crusted with snow much like her chain mail, her chattering teeth leaving no doubts now as to her own discomfort. No doubt she'd dash to the guardhouse for a warm drink of some sort while warming herself next to the pot bellied wood burning stove that was the usual source of heat here in this land. What would have been called a "Franklin Stove" back in co- lonial America, which Dularn muchly resembles in many ways... "I'm sorry to call you out on a night like this," Maris Marn smiled to me, taking my hands in hers, the precious jewels in her tiara glittering in the lamplight while a slave girl looked on. The sweet curves of the Queen's body visible there beneath the wool of a long gray dress that set off her green eyes, her golden hair falling about her shoulders over her white furred cape. A very "attractive" woman, whom Carol once told me reminded her quite a bit of the 20th Century TV actress Katherine Kelly Lang. (Brooke Logan, of the soap opera, "THE BOLD AND THE BEAUTIFUL")* * It should be noted here that many Dularnian women do "bleach" their hair, much like the woman of the 20th Century did. On the other hand the number of "natural" blondes was higher than what would otherwise occur due to the activities of the Priestesses of Lys, who have the power to alter the genetic code to some degree. It is my theory that this "technology" was first invented in the 21st Century during the time of Janet Rogers, and has been car- ried down through the generations up to the Twenty Six Century. "I assumed it was serious," I smiled back. The captain of the North Star, Sandra Steven, standing there to one side of the room, her first officer, young Shari Johnson, seventeen, at her side. The North Star was the "flagship" of Dularn, a hundred and twenty foot long raiding schooner mounting twenty four ballistae and some six catapults. Last year with the "assistance" of the late raider North Wind we'd taken her up against the Imperial's new "dreadnought", the "iron-clad" Athena under the command of Lorraine Richards herself. We'd "won", but it had been the sort of a "victory" that had left sixty dead, and almost that many wounded to one extent or another. I still had the scar in my leg from the ballistae bolt I'd gotten hit by, and Carol had almost gotten killed in that battle, while Maris' left leg still both- ered her a bit, especially when the weather was damp like this... "I have a `mission' for the North Star," Maris said to me. "Which you don't want anyone to know about," I smiled back. "You will sail immediately," Maris replied, her eyes meeting mine. "And carry out my orders to the best of your abilities." The Queen then giving me my sealed orders and a quick brief kiss! The few words that she whispered into my ear left no doubts now!! "Carol!" I breathed, my wife giving me a smile as she sat there beneath the stern windows of the North Star, the lights of the city just visible across the harbor through the blowing snow. Her hazel eyes filled with "concern" as she rose, her greatcoat open, hinting at the still youthful curves of her body beneath. Her walnut hair wet with melted snow as I took her in my arms. I love my provocative brownette more than life itself, for without her life would not be worth living. She is five seven to my six one. In her now grew the little bit of flesh that would be our little girl in another six months. The Priestesses had "done" what would have been only a "dream" back home in our own century. "A `secret mission'?" she spoke, her red lips brushing mine. Her hand reaching up, brushing my dark hair as my deep brown eyes held hers. Her mouth that of an "houri", her curvy body an erot- ic promise of delight as my wife pressed herself up against me. "`Sealed orders' I'm to open when I reach our destination," I answered. That was quite a ways to the north, along the south- ern coast of what had been the State of Alaska back in our own time. I wondered what Maris wanted with anything that far north! There among the iceburgs and everything else in that icy sea... "Kathi is putting a few things away for you," Carol said, a smile curving her soft moist lips as I still held her in my arms. "I told her to keep an eye on you and see that you take proper care of yourself," my wife continued, her eyes growing moist now. The memories flooding back of another time, another place, of my wife attired in a buckskin bikini peeling potatoes at the sink. Of "making love" in the clearing behind the house, Carol wet and sweaty beneath me, her hazel eyes filled with love meeting mine. Of playing all those little "games" that we used to do together. "You are the Warlady of Dularn," I said. "Maris needs you." Carol was under our Constitution the head of the military, and took her orders directly from the Queen herself. The concept of a "civilian control" of the military is considered "foolish" now. The "national sport" of Dularnians is archery, followed closely by public contests of the sword. They are a martial people, well used to defending themselves from enemies, living in a hostile and dangerously savage world where such skills are often needed if one wishes to live in freedom. Slavery was "commonplace", es- pecially that of women, who were often sought by slavers of other nations, the light haired women of Dularn often sought as slaves. "The ice cap extends further down than it did in our time," Carol said, telling me what I already knew. No doubt she wished to make conversation, to have a last few words with me before she left the ship. She was pregnant, carrying our daughter to be. I kissed her again, holding her, the memories flooding back of oth- er times, other places. Of a warm sunny forest in a time now myth. Perhaps it was just as well that Kathi interrupted things then. Neither Carol or I were truly of this era like another is. A woman who many say is the greatest swordswoman of all time. A tall slender black haired Queen, a true "Warlady" of the great Empire to the south of us. She who once had been Lorraine Duval. "I have stowed away the things, mistress," Kathi spoke, her eyes having perhaps missed little of what had been going on then. Her long heavy woolen dress half concealing her sensual curves. Her blondish hair still wet with melted snow much like Carol's. The gleaming band of her slave collar was snug about her throat. It was of fourteen caret gold, marking her well as what she was. A sudden knock at the cabin door putting a quick halt to things. "Enter," Carol spoke up, standing there beside me, her coat thrown back, her ornate weapons belt, the sword, clothing, leav- ing little doubt as to her status as Warlady, a rank that made her second only to the Queen of Dularn. A small brand on the in- terior of her right wrist marked her as being of the Caste of Warrioresses. My wife's skill with a sword and bow was famous. "We are ready to set sail, sir," captain Steven said, her hair white with snow where it wasn't covered by her uniform hat. She was a good sized gal, the sort often considered "Dularnian". "I will be leaving now," Carol spoke quietly then to us. "You may get us underway, when convenient," I said to San- dra, the boat that had brought Carol now disappearing into the darkness towards the docks. Kathi below, taking care of things. "Going to damn `cold' there," Sandra smiled. I nodded back. Her eyes glittering in the light of the lamps there on the quar- terdeck. She is a blonde, although the dark roots I've seen leave little doubt that her own natural hair color isn't "light". "Johnson!" Sandra barked from the quarterdeck, "Get those men up on deck and hoist the jib and spanker!" Shari looking up at her, almost as white as a snowman as she stood there below us! The captain then adding in a low voice, "There was a strongbox that came aboard just after your wife that took four men to carry it below, and there is only one thing that weighs that much!" I smiled, nodded again, cleared my throat. I knew "what" our mis- sion was. Maris had whispered that in my ear before I'd left the palace. It was perhaps "best" right now that no one else "knew"! Three thousand gold crowns would buy half a dozen ships like the North Star, a hundred prime slave girls. Such a "treasure" car- ried aboard a ship can make any commanding officer "nervous", es- pecially when it is so "easy" for a crew to take over a ship and turn pirate. Just then, however, my thought was not of the gold carried below in its strongbox, but of a young blue eyed teenaged Queen now held in helpless bondage there far to the north of us! "I had it put in your cabin," she then added with a smile. "That was doubtlessly wise," I smiled back at her then... "I have detailed a guard," she added, seeing my nod... "IN HARM'S WAY" AN ADVENTURE IN THE SECOND DARK AGE OF MAN By Robert J. Simmons Chapter One My unicorn was just a bit skitterish on the icy street as he followed the trotting mare of the Royal Warrioress ahead through the blowing snow of this late winter blizzard. Few of the resi- dents of Arsana we passed paying us any attention, their collars pulled up high, caps and hats snugged down tight on their heads as they scurried along the now slippery walks to their destina- tions, the store fronts and brick condominiums side by side like a wall fronting the street on either side all tightly shuttered for the night. Night had already fallen, and I thought regret- fully again of that fine roast beef dinner with carrots and pota- toes that Kathi had fixed for Carol and I. I had been looking forward to a quiet peaceful evening with my wife, nearly three months pregnant with our baby girl, Kathi attentive to our every need, but when the Queen of Dularn "beckons", one dares not say "no"... As the Admiral of Dularn I had my "duties" to the Queen. It was the first of March, the year 2568 A.D. as I think of it. The people of this era saw it however as 521 A.W., marking time now from The War of 2047 between Earth and the planet Mars. In any case it was not a night for man or beast, I growled to my- self, my greatcoat collar pulled up, my tricornered hat as Admi- ral of the Royal Navy pulled down tight against the wind that threatened to blow it from my head. My sword slapping against my thigh as my stallion trotted after the mare just ahead of him, a gust of wind blowing a handful of icy snowflakes up into my face. Arsana is built on the ruins of Victoria on the Island of Vancou- ver, although none but historians call the island that now. To everyone else now it is "Dularn", or "God's Land" as the early settlers called it after The War of 2047 when Mankind reverted to a barbaric and primitive style of life similar to that of Twelfth Century Europe during the Dark Ages after the "fall" of Rome. It is a lovely land, at least in warm weather, but the winters can be unpleasant, perhaps due to the long term climatic effects from the use of anti-matter bombs by the Lorr some five centuries ago. The sudden "Ice Age" of the second half of the 21st Century caused by the Lorr's bombing still not completely over even now. So far as I knew our peace treaties with the Empire of Cali- fornia to the south still held, although Darlanis is yet still an "ambitious" Empress, and one who still dreams of being a "second Janet Rogers", the first having once been the ruler of the world. There was also Lorraine Richards, once of the 20th Century like Carol and I, who as a student of weaponry and war, had become the "Warlady of California" as well as the Queen of Free Trelandar, a land that once had been southern California in a time now "myth". Arsana is a walled city of about thirty thousand, somewhat smaller than such great capitals as Sarn and Trella to the south, but yet an adequate sized city, especially in a technology where one either rides an animal or has said animal pull you in a buggy or carriage of some sort. In such a social order, life is much different from that of the 20th Century, and a trip of a hundred miles can take you days by land, instead of a couple hours behind the steering wheel of an automobile down a modern freeway. This is the sort of a thing that eventually makes you realize just how much the world has "changed", and that what you took for granted back in the 20th Century doesn't even exist now except as words in a history book. There are no telephones, no TV or radio. You either go read a book or attend a play or lecture as "entertain- ment" in this era. People work hard, harder than they ever did in our time, with a standard "workweek" of about sixty hours or so with yet little if any machinery to "ease" one's labors. On the other hand it is a social order that has a "vitality" about it that ours didn't. People in this society take politics seri- ously, and one can hear serious discussions often carried on in the workshops and places of business about the "merits" of var- ious ideas, about how "good" a Queen Maris Marn "is" or isn't. I have no doubt that these people take their "politics" seriously. Personal freedom is considerably greater than it was back in the 20th Century. The "right" to keep and bear arms is taken for granted by all Dularnians. The idea that a "democratic" govern- ment could dare "disarm" you and that you would not rise up against that government is something few people here can "under- stand". The same is perhaps "true" in the field of drugs, in the issue of "prostitution", and a number of other things. A "line" has been "drawn", and both the Queen and the Senate know better than to "cross" it. Taxes are low, and "welfare" almost non-ex- istant... This is an "Aryan-Nordic" culture, quite "different" from my era. The concept of "civil rights" being unknown here. Hunched up on the back of my mount, I saw the gates of the palace opening before us, the Warrioress trotting on through just ahead of me and then dismounting to take my reins as I swung my leg up over the back of my unicorn stallion, my face already numb from the cold as the snowflakes came pouring down from the sky, the lamps on their posts only dim glows in this blowing blizzard. The palace there before us like a massive pile of cold wet stone. "All I know, Admiral Simmons, is that her `majesty' said it was `important'," the woman repeated as I faced her, her walnut hair there beneath her helmet now crusted with snow much like her chain mail, her chattering teeth leaving no doubts now as to her own discomfort. No doubt she'd dash to the guardhouse for a warm drink of some sort while warming herself next to the pot bellied wood burning stove that was the usual source of heat here in this land. What would have been called a "Franklin Stove" back in co- lonial America, which Dularn muchly resembles in many ways... "I'm sorry to call you out on a night like this," Maris Marn smiled to me, taking my hands in hers, the precious jewels in her tiara glittering in the lamplight while a slave girl looked on. The sweet curves of the Queen's body visible there beneath the wool of a long gray dress that set off her green eyes, her golden hair falling about her shoulders over her white furred cape. A very "attractive" woman, whom Carol once told me reminded her quite a bit of the 20th Century TV actress Katherine Kelly Lang. (Brooke Logan, of the soap opera, "THE BOLD AND THE BEAUTIFUL")* * It should be noted here that many Dularnian women do "bleach" their hair, much like the woman of the 20th Century did. On the other hand the number of "natural" blondes was higher than what would otherwise occur due to the activities of the Priestesses of Lys, who have the power to alter the genetic code to some degree. It is my theory that this "technology" was first invented in the 21st Century during the time of Janet Rogers, and has been car- ried down through the generations up to the Twenty Six Century. "I assumed it was serious," I smiled back. The captain of the North Star, Sandra Steven, standing there to one side of the room, her first officer, young Shari Johnson, seventeen, at her side. The North Star was the "flagship" of Dularn, a hundred and twenty foot long raiding schooner mounting twenty four ballistae and some six catapults. Last year with the "assistance" of the late raider North Wind we'd taken her up against the Imperial's new "dreadnought", the "iron-clad" Athena under the command of Lorraine Richards herself. We'd "won", but it had been the sort of a "victory" that had left sixty dead, and almost that many wounded to one extent or another. I still had the scar in my leg from the ballistae bolt I'd gotten hit by, and Carol had almost gotten killed in that battle, while Maris' left leg still both- ered her a bit, especially when the weather was damp like this... "I have a `mission' for the North Star," Maris said to me. "Which you don't want anyone to know about," I smiled back. "You will sail immediately," Maris replied, her eyes meeting mine. "And carry out my orders to the best of your abilities." The Queen then giving me my sealed orders and a quick brief kiss! The few words that she whispered into my ear left no doubts now!! "Carol!" I breathed, my wife giving me a smile as she sat there beneath the stern windows of the North Star, the lights of the city just visible across the harbor through the blowing snow. Her hazel eyes filled with "concern" as she rose, her greatcoat open, hinting at the still youthful curves of her body beneath. Her walnut hair wet with melted snow as I took her in my arms. I love my provocative brownette more than life itself, for without her life would not be worth living. She is five seven to my six one. In her now grew the little bit of flesh that would be our little girl in another six months. The Priestesses had "done" what would have been only a "dream" back home in our own century. "A `secret mission'?" she spoke, her red lips brushing mine. Her hand reaching up, brushing my dark hair as my deep brown eyes held hers. Her mouth that of an "houri", her curvy body an erot- ic promise of delight as my wife pressed herself up against me. "`Sealed orders' I'm to open when I reach our destination," I answered. That was quite a ways to the north, along the south- ern coast of what had been the State of Alaska back in our own time. I wondered what Maris wanted with anything that far north! There among the iceburgs and everything else in that icy sea... "Kathi is putting a few things away for you," Carol said, a smile curving her soft moist lips as I still held her in my arms. "I told her to keep an eye on you and see that you take proper care of yourself," my wife continued, her eyes growing moist now. The memories flooding back of another time, another place, of my wife attired in a buckskin bikini peeling potatoes at the sink. Of "making love" in the clearing behind the house, Carol wet and sweaty beneath me, her hazel eyes filled with love meeting mine. Of playing all those little "games" that we used to do together. "You are the Warlady of Dularn," I said. "Maris needs you." Carol was under our Constitution the head of the military, and took her orders directly from the Queen herself. The concept of a "civilian control" of the military is considered "foolish" now. The "national sport" of Dularnians is archery, followed closely by public contests of the sword. They are a martial people, well used to defending themselves from enemies, living in a hostile and dangerously savage world where such skills are often needed if one wishes to live in freedom. Slavery was "commonplace", es- pecially that of women, who were often sought by slavers of other nations, the light haired women of Dularn often sought as slaves. "The ice cap extends further down than it did in our time," Carol said, telling me what I already knew. No doubt she wished to make conversation, to have a last few words with me before she left the ship. She was pregnant, carrying our daughter to be. I kissed her again, holding her, the memories flooding back of oth- er times, other places. Of a warm sunny forest in a time now myth. Perhaps it was just as well that Kathi interrupted things then. Neither Carol or I were truly of this era like another is. A woman who many say is the greatest swordswoman of all time. A tall slender black haired Queen, a true "Warlady" of the great Empire to the south of us. She who once had been Lorraine Duval. "I have stowed away the things, mistress," Kathi spoke, her eyes having perhaps missed little of what had been going on then. Her long heavy woolen dress half concealing her sensual curves. Her blondish hair still wet with melted snow much like Carol's. The gleaming band of her slave collar was snug about her throat. It was of fourteen caret gold, marking her well as what she was. A sudden knock at the cabin door putting a quick halt to things. "Enter," Carol spoke up, standing there beside me, her coat thrown back, her ornate weapons belt, the sword, clothing, leav- ing little doubt as to her status as Warlady, a rank that made her second only to the Queen of Dularn. A small brand on the in- terior of her right wrist marked her as being of the Caste of Warrioresses. My wife's skill with a sword and bow was famous. "We are ready to set sail, sir," captain Steven said, her hair white with snow where it wasn't covered by her uniform hat. She was a good sized gal, the sort often considered "Dularnian". "I will be leaving now," Carol spoke quietly then to us. "You may get us underway, when convenient," I said to San- dra, the boat that had brought Carol now disappearing into the darkness towards the docks. Kathi below, taking care of things. "Going to damn `cold' there," Sandra smiled. I nodded back. Her eyes glittering in the light of the lamps there on the quar- terdeck. She is a blonde, although the dark roots I've seen leave little doubt that her own natural hair color isn't "light". "Johnson!" Sandra barked from the quarterdeck, "Get those men up on deck and hoist the jib and spanker!" Shari looking up at her, almost as white as a snowman as she stood there below us! The captain then adding in a low voice, "There was a strongbox that came aboard just after your wife that took four men to carry it below, and there is only one thing that weighs that much!" I smiled, nodded again, cleared my throat. I knew "what" our mis- sion was. Maris had whispered that in my ear before I'd left the palace. It was perhaps "best" right now that no one else "knew"! Three thousand gold crowns would buy half a dozen ships like the North Star, a hundred prime slave girls. Such a "treasure" car- ried aboard a ship can make any commanding officer "nervous", es- pecially when it is so "easy" for a crew to take over a ship and turn pirate. Just then, however, my thought was not of the gold carried below in its strongbox, but of a young blue eyed teenaged Queen now held in helpless bondage there far to the north of us! "I had it put in your cabin," she then added with a smile. "That was doubtlessly wise," I smiled back at her then... "I have detailed a guard," she added, seeing my nod... |
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