"2569-22" - читать интересную книгу автора (Jerome Bigge - Warlady 7 - The Dularnian Queen)2569 A.D.! THE DULARNIAN QUEEN AN ADVENTURE IN THE SECOND DARK AGE OF MAN By Jerome B. Bigge Chapter Twenty Two I felt as if I was dreaming, that I could only stand there and watch as my step mother gave the orders to draw the North Star up to its anchor under conditions where any sensible person would have used the steam engine to take us out of Sana's harbor! I watched her standing there leaning against the quarterdeck railing, the brass speaking trumpet in her hand, one leg ending in a booted foot, the other in a wooden peg, the wind blowing her hair a bit there beneath her hat. The gold trim of her uniform of another "age" now, of a Royal Navy commodore of the "era" of Queen Tulis. Her very "stance", her abilities reminding me much of another, of a tall black haired woman who before I had once knelt as a slave girl years ago. A woman whose piercing dark brown eyes had burned down into mine. One who I had been told I had been selected to "pleasure" as a slave girl does a mistress. I wondered why Marta still yet carried a sword when she was hardly able to walk without the assistance of the cane she used. She was, I knew, a "proud" woman, one who never allowed "favors" to be done her because she was "disabled". An old Warrioress who had been pensioned off to live the rest of her life as she might. "She is still the `best'," my father said in a low voice. "There's not much `room'," I whispered, well aware of that. The North Star was no fishing boat, but a three masted schooner a hundred and twenty feet in length, a "second rate" by modern nav- al standards. Not quite a "ship of the line", but close to it... "Give her your `trust'," my father said, touching my arm. I thank LYS that I did. That we had these few last hours together. "Miss Wells, ready with that jib," I heard Marta snap, the North Star suddenly swinging in the wind, the bow coming around! "Mr. Hanson, get that spanker into the wind!" she "snapped" then, the ship suddenly moving forward, heading for the rocks of the breakwater just ahead! "Helm hard to port, let fly the jib!" she cried, the bow now swinging through the eye of the wind, heading for the opening in the breakwater just ahead! "Center helm!, pull in that jib, Miss Wells!" she cried out, Diane doing so now. The North Star now passing through the opening, a bit "close" to the rocks there to port, but safe enough, I saw for myself then! "I would like to have the top gallants set," Marta said to me as she stood there at the quarterdeck railing. The North Star tearing through the water at close to ten knots or more now back towards Arsana. I suspected that a lot of the crew had never been higher up than the branches of some tree before joining the ship. No doubt from the top gallant yard there on top the main topmast the deck looked hundreds of feet distant, instead of the eighty five I knew it actually was. I am somewhat "bothered" by heights, which is I think perhaps one reason why I picked the cavalry over the navy as a unicorn's back is a whole lot "closer" to the ground! On the other hand a ship won't buck you off it or gore you as once happened to a close friend of Tori's long ago... "As you wish," I said, glad I didn't have to climb up there! "An excellent design," she smiled, standing there before me. "I've always thought so," I smiled, feeling the roll of the ship as it cut through the waves, Dularn there just to port now. The trees yet bare of leaves but for the evergreens, a patch of snow here and there as a memory of the wintertime just past now. There are here and there "ruins" from a time now myth and legend. Reminders of the time when men flew through the air like birds. "A bit `chill' yet," Marta said to me as Emily filled a glass and handed it to her, the wake visible there through the stern windows. The creak and groan of the hull familiar sounds. My father had his arm around her, a look of "pride" in his eyes. "You would have done well against Lorraine," I said then. "`You' did well up against Lorraine," Marta smiled back. "You were the best that Dularn had," I said to her then. "You have made an old woman very happy," she said to me. "I think I do have a `mother' again," I said to her then. My words now bringing tears to the eyes of the old naval officer. It had taken fifteen years, but finally I had learned to "love". I am glad that we were together when the "end" came for her then. Fighting a foe who used weapons from an era that is mostly myth. My husband then turning my head to his to kiss me on the lips. "It is an Imperial," captain Dan Wood said to me, lowering the telescope. "And he's carrying every sail that he can too..." The rig was not that of an ordinary merchantman, but of a ship built for speed. The type of ship that carries slave girls. Was this the ship that I knew had been transporting captured women from Dularn to points south in the Empire? And what was it flee- ing now? I thought of the patterns of our patrols, and nodded! "Beat to quarters, battle stations," I snapped in reply. "We won't be able to get steam up in time," he replied. "Masthead, what do you make there behind him?" I yelled. "Schooner, three masts," he yelled back down at me then. "A steam ship from the looks of her, the `smoke' that she's making." "We have a `problem'," my step mother spoke, seeing me nod. "Can you identify the pursuing schooner?" I yelled to the lookout, knowing what the answer would be. The Imperial was fast, what would have been considered a "third rate" in the navies of either Dularn or California now. The other ship could only be our own North Light, a close "sister" to the North Star. "One of `ours'!" she yelled down at me. That left no doubt! "If `that' is what I think it is...," I breathed, seeing my step mother nod. An `incident' of this nature could lead to more "serious" problems if there was loss of life. On the other hand I had no doubt what "sort" of ship this was. The cargoes carried by such ships is considered "perishable", one of "high value"... "Boiler's lit," captain Wood said, standing there beside me. "It will be necessary to stop that vessel without a loss of life," Marta said, having come to the same conclusion that I had. "Be `tough' if they're `determined'," my Prince said to me. "They will be," my father ventured, regarding the Imperial. "I can `do' it for you," Marta said, standing there at the rail. "Cost you a little `paint', but it shouldn't be too hard." "Ship is flying both Imperial and Trelandarian flags!" the lookout called down. At least she was "competent" at her tasks! "We will stop her and board," I said, making my decision. "`LYS is with us'," Marta said, her eyes meeting mine as I nodded back. I'm not a regular "temple goer", and the only deal- ings I have with the Priestesses of Lys as a rule are related to my duties as the Queen of Dularn. I'm no "atheist", but after all that happened last year I tend to have my "doubts" at times. On the other hand I don't think Marta ever had any "doubts" about such things. I am sure too that LYS welcomed her into her arms. "I'm glad you're with us," I answered back, seeing her nod. "Imperial slaver all right," captain Wood said to me then as we watched the ship change tacks so as to swung clear of us now. Cutting close to a small island just off the main island of ours. "North Light's signaling!" Diane cried out, the telescope to her eye. I could read the flashes easily without the aid of it. "Hundred and three and seventeen," she spoke, making me smile, as she obviously didn't know the naval code as yet by heart. "Ille- gal slaver" being what 103 and 17 meant, I suspected, a bit rusty myself on some of the lesser used code numbers. One can also use standard Morse Code, but such of course can be read by anyone and is much "slower" than just sending "103" and "17". I glanced up at the top of the stack where it was fastened to the aft mast, a black plume of smoke staining the sky now just downwind of us... "Take in the top gallants!" I snapped, "Engine ahead full!" I added, suspecting there was enough steam now to do something. We might not get the full four knots that the engine was capable of giving us, but there would doubtlessly be some gain we could make. The helmsman pushing ahead the repeater, the engine start- ing up, although quite obviously not yet close to its full power. "Imperial's not manning his armament," captain Wood spoke. "I didn't expect him to," I spoke, Marta giving me a smile. The crew of the vessel seemed oddly "small" for such a vessel... "Let fly the jib, helm hard to port!" she ordered, the North Star coming around, men dashing across the deck to reset the sails as the ship came around up into the wind. The officers at least "competent" enough to do that much, I thought to myself. "`Boxed' between us and the land," captain Wood commented, a grin on his grizzled face. "Old bitch still's got a few tricks'," he added in a low mutter, Marta quietly standing there. "Look at that!" I heard someone cry, the Imperial now coming up into the wind, his sails all ashiver, falling back, it being obvious too that the vessel was commanded by a very capable and competent captain. Perhaps even one who had once a couple years ago sailed under Lorraine! Captain Berson had been one of their best, although I doubted that he would in command of any slaver as he was now married to the Princess of Talon, the last I knew.* * This is of course lovely Sela Dai, who we've met before. (J.B.) "Helm to port, bring us up into the wind, engine full re- verse!" Marta snapped, "familiar" with "tactics" like this! The Imperial would try to cross our stern, although there was no es- cape for him with the North Light rapidly closing the gap between us! She would have been a great naval commander, I thought then! "He's wearing ship," Marta spoke, the Imperial turning now! "Let fly the jib, helm hard to port, full ahead!" I cried, the North Star now crossing the eye of the wind to come around. "A `game of wits'," my step mother smiled as we came about. "Looks like a woman in command of that ship," I said, lower- ing the telescope. A woman with black hair, a slim figure. Not Lorraine, but another. A woman in the black of the Warrioress... "Let me see that," my step mother said, taking the telescope from me and lifting it to her eye. The ship swinging rapidly about now, and closing the distance between us and the Imperial. The North Light perhaps a mile off, closing the distance rapidly. "What is she doing!?" I gasped, a row of "ports" opening now in the side of the ship as we closed to a distance of less than a hundred yards! Some sort of black things now sticking out, a cold icy chill of TERROR going over me as I saw they were CANNON! 2569 A.D.! THE DULARNIAN QUEEN AN ADVENTURE IN THE SECOND DARK AGE OF MAN By Jerome B. Bigge Chapter Twenty Two I felt as if I was dreaming, that I could only stand there and watch as my step mother gave the orders to draw the North Star up to its anchor under conditions where any sensible person would have used the steam engine to take us out of Sana's harbor! I watched her standing there leaning against the quarterdeck railing, the brass speaking trumpet in her hand, one leg ending in a booted foot, the other in a wooden peg, the wind blowing her hair a bit there beneath her hat. The gold trim of her uniform of another "age" now, of a Royal Navy commodore of the "era" of Queen Tulis. Her very "stance", her abilities reminding me much of another, of a tall black haired woman who before I had once knelt as a slave girl years ago. A woman whose piercing dark brown eyes had burned down into mine. One who I had been told I had been selected to "pleasure" as a slave girl does a mistress. I wondered why Marta still yet carried a sword when she was hardly able to walk without the assistance of the cane she used. She was, I knew, a "proud" woman, one who never allowed "favors" to be done her because she was "disabled". An old Warrioress who had been pensioned off to live the rest of her life as she might. "She is still the `best'," my father said in a low voice. "There's not much `room'," I whispered, well aware of that. The North Star was no fishing boat, but a three masted schooner a hundred and twenty feet in length, a "second rate" by modern nav- al standards. Not quite a "ship of the line", but close to it... "Give her your `trust'," my father said, touching my arm. I thank LYS that I did. That we had these few last hours together. "Miss Wells, ready with that jib," I heard Marta snap, the North Star suddenly swinging in the wind, the bow coming around! "Mr. Hanson, get that spanker into the wind!" she "snapped" then, the ship suddenly moving forward, heading for the rocks of the breakwater just ahead! "Helm hard to port, let fly the jib!" she cried, the bow now swinging through the eye of the wind, heading for the opening in the breakwater just ahead! "Center helm!, pull in that jib, Miss Wells!" she cried out, Diane doing so now. The North Star now passing through the opening, a bit "close" to the rocks there to port, but safe enough, I saw for myself then! "I would like to have the top gallants set," Marta said to me as she stood there at the quarterdeck railing. The North Star tearing through the water at close to ten knots or more now back towards Arsana. I suspected that a lot of the crew had never been higher up than the branches of some tree before joining the ship. No doubt from the top gallant yard there on top the main topmast the deck looked hundreds of feet distant, instead of the eighty five I knew it actually was. I am somewhat "bothered" by heights, which is I think perhaps one reason why I picked the cavalry over the navy as a unicorn's back is a whole lot "closer" to the ground! On the other hand a ship won't buck you off it or gore you as once happened to a close friend of Tori's long ago... "As you wish," I said, glad I didn't have to climb up there! "An excellent design," she smiled, standing there before me. "I've always thought so," I smiled, feeling the roll of the ship as it cut through the waves, Dularn there just to port now. The trees yet bare of leaves but for the evergreens, a patch of snow here and there as a memory of the wintertime just past now. There are here and there "ruins" from a time now myth and legend. Reminders of the time when men flew through the air like birds. "A bit `chill' yet," Marta said to me as Emily filled a glass and handed it to her, the wake visible there through the stern windows. The creak and groan of the hull familiar sounds. My father had his arm around her, a look of "pride" in his eyes. "You would have done well against Lorraine," I said then. "`You' did well up against Lorraine," Marta smiled back. "You were the best that Dularn had," I said to her then. "You have made an old woman very happy," she said to me. "I think I do have a `mother' again," I said to her then. My words now bringing tears to the eyes of the old naval officer. It had taken fifteen years, but finally I had learned to "love". I am glad that we were together when the "end" came for her then. Fighting a foe who used weapons from an era that is mostly myth. My husband then turning my head to his to kiss me on the lips. "It is an Imperial," captain Dan Wood said to me, lowering the telescope. "And he's carrying every sail that he can too..." The rig was not that of an ordinary merchantman, but of a ship built for speed. The type of ship that carries slave girls. Was this the ship that I knew had been transporting captured women from Dularn to points south in the Empire? And what was it flee- ing now? I thought of the patterns of our patrols, and nodded! "Beat to quarters, battle stations," I snapped in reply. "We won't be able to get steam up in time," he replied. "Masthead, what do you make there behind him?" I yelled. "Schooner, three masts," he yelled back down at me then. "A steam ship from the looks of her, the `smoke' that she's making." "We have a `problem'," my step mother spoke, seeing me nod. "Can you identify the pursuing schooner?" I yelled to the lookout, knowing what the answer would be. The Imperial was fast, what would have been considered a "third rate" in the navies of either Dularn or California now. The other ship could only be our own North Light, a close "sister" to the North Star. "One of `ours'!" she yelled down at me. That left no doubt! "If `that' is what I think it is...," I breathed, seeing my step mother nod. An `incident' of this nature could lead to more "serious" problems if there was loss of life. On the other hand I had no doubt what "sort" of ship this was. The cargoes carried by such ships is considered "perishable", one of "high value"... "Boiler's lit," captain Wood said, standing there beside me. "It will be necessary to stop that vessel without a loss of life," Marta said, having come to the same conclusion that I had. "Be `tough' if they're `determined'," my Prince said to me. "They will be," my father ventured, regarding the Imperial. "I can `do' it for you," Marta said, standing there at the rail. "Cost you a little `paint', but it shouldn't be too hard." "Ship is flying both Imperial and Trelandarian flags!" the lookout called down. At least she was "competent" at her tasks! "We will stop her and board," I said, making my decision. "`LYS is with us'," Marta said, her eyes meeting mine as I nodded back. I'm not a regular "temple goer", and the only deal- ings I have with the Priestesses of Lys as a rule are related to my duties as the Queen of Dularn. I'm no "atheist", but after all that happened last year I tend to have my "doubts" at times. On the other hand I don't think Marta ever had any "doubts" about such things. I am sure too that LYS welcomed her into her arms. "I'm glad you're with us," I answered back, seeing her nod. "Imperial slaver all right," captain Wood said to me then as we watched the ship change tacks so as to swung clear of us now. Cutting close to a small island just off the main island of ours. "North Light's signaling!" Diane cried out, the telescope to her eye. I could read the flashes easily without the aid of it. "Hundred and three and seventeen," she spoke, making me smile, as she obviously didn't know the naval code as yet by heart. "Ille- gal slaver" being what 103 and 17 meant, I suspected, a bit rusty myself on some of the lesser used code numbers. One can also use standard Morse Code, but such of course can be read by anyone and is much "slower" than just sending "103" and "17". I glanced up at the top of the stack where it was fastened to the aft mast, a black plume of smoke staining the sky now just downwind of us... "Take in the top gallants!" I snapped, "Engine ahead full!" I added, suspecting there was enough steam now to do something. We might not get the full four knots that the engine was capable of giving us, but there would doubtlessly be some gain we could make. The helmsman pushing ahead the repeater, the engine start- ing up, although quite obviously not yet close to its full power. "Imperial's not manning his armament," captain Wood spoke. "I didn't expect him to," I spoke, Marta giving me a smile. The crew of the vessel seemed oddly "small" for such a vessel... "Let fly the jib, helm hard to port!" she ordered, the North Star coming around, men dashing across the deck to reset the sails as the ship came around up into the wind. The officers at least "competent" enough to do that much, I thought to myself. "`Boxed' between us and the land," captain Wood commented, a grin on his grizzled face. "Old bitch still's got a few tricks'," he added in a low mutter, Marta quietly standing there. "Look at that!" I heard someone cry, the Imperial now coming up into the wind, his sails all ashiver, falling back, it being obvious too that the vessel was commanded by a very capable and competent captain. Perhaps even one who had once a couple years ago sailed under Lorraine! Captain Berson had been one of their best, although I doubted that he would in command of any slaver as he was now married to the Princess of Talon, the last I knew.* * This is of course lovely Sela Dai, who we've met before. (J.B.) "Helm to port, bring us up into the wind, engine full re- verse!" Marta snapped, "familiar" with "tactics" like this! The Imperial would try to cross our stern, although there was no es- cape for him with the North Light rapidly closing the gap between us! She would have been a great naval commander, I thought then! "He's wearing ship," Marta spoke, the Imperial turning now! "Let fly the jib, helm hard to port, full ahead!" I cried, the North Star now crossing the eye of the wind to come around. "A `game of wits'," my step mother smiled as we came about. "Looks like a woman in command of that ship," I said, lower- ing the telescope. A woman with black hair, a slim figure. Not Lorraine, but another. A woman in the black of the Warrioress... "Let me see that," my step mother said, taking the telescope from me and lifting it to her eye. The ship swinging rapidly about now, and closing the distance between us and the Imperial. The North Light perhaps a mile off, closing the distance rapidly. "What is she doing!?" I gasped, a row of "ports" opening now in the side of the ship as we closed to a distance of less than a hundred yards! Some sort of black things now sticking out, a cold icy chill of TERROR going over me as I saw they were CANNON! |
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