"FREE-06" - читать интересную книгу автора (Jerome Bigge - Warlady 9 - The Freedom Fighters Of Trelandar)Freedom Fighters of Trelandar A Tale of Adventure in the Second Dark Age Book Nine of the Warlady Series By Jerome B. Bigge Chapter Six I could hear the sounds of crickets chirping in the forest around us as the Moon, just before its last quarter, gleamed down from up above the trees. Carl a sleeping hump there beneath his blanket. The fire only now glowing red embers there between us. The air was cool, not quite "chill" yet, as I knew it would be now in another month or so. Our unicorns dozing on their sides, their ivory horns gleaming in the moonlight shining down upon us. Reaching out, the blanket falling away, I put another hand- ful of twigs on the embers of our fire, then topping with larger. There was, I supposed, little danger now of predatory beasts, but I was also well aware that such dangerous animals did live here. That should a hungry Tigon (saber tooth tiger) come, our swords, my bow, Carl's crossbow would be of little value here against it. It is one thing to inflict a mortal wound on such, another still to stop it in its tracks as it charges, only heavy ballistae be- ing powerful enough to handle such creatures. I'd also heard the Nevadas speak of "things", of great monsters bigger than even any mammoth, of Garths that stood three times as tall as any man did! On the other hand they are a superstitious people, and not always to be believed in things they say, I've found from experience... Picking up my blanket and drawing it about myself, I went to the opening in the ruins and peered out into the forest beyond, the moving waters of the brook gleaming in the Moon's light. De- spite what had happened this day I felt at "peace", as if somehow the cares of a world had been lifted from my feminine shoulders. I felt a "kinship" with Carl I'd never felt with my own husband, a sort of companionship that seemed to meet an unfulfilled need. Carl and I were a "team"; not just two people who happened to be married as had been the case with my late husband here. We did not share "caste" as such, but with Carl I now felt a much closer kinship than I had with Taimes Hibber, my late husband, who had I suspected only seen me as a means to raise his own social status. I'd been to him a "showpiece", a high ranking Trelandarian Lady, a woman whose own sister was the Queen of Trelandar. The war had been a decisive factor, showing that he was not the "man" that he had pretended to be, a fact I'd also suspected before here. Yet, I'd still felt "responsible" for him, and his death when we were surprised by that patrol of Warrioresses still was vivid. Taimes had at least died with a sword in his hand, even if he'd not been a match for the woman he faced, the one I slew only seconds later in a hotly contested battle between my forces and those of Sarn. I thought too of my son, Jerry, who hopefully was still safe with my parents there in the hills to the east of Thistle, the place of my own birth thirty years before. He was five now, a fine young boy, and I prayed to Lys that he'd be safe from harm. I wondered about Darlanis, what passed through her mind now. I remembered her there at the Academy, although she'd been a hard person to really get to "know" there, almost as if she was living inside a "shell" of some sort much like that of a turtle. I re- membered all the conversations I'd had with her, Darlanis having been a great "admirer" of Janet Rogers, of whom I wasn't, feeling in my heart that the woman was more just a "legend" than "fact". Darlanis had been "hard"... The sort who could kill without emo- tion, without even feeling, I suspected, knowing what I did here. We used to say that she was a "man" in a woman's body, that she didn't "feel" as a woman would, that she wasn't really "human"... She didn't have any boyfriends, although enough chased after her, Darlanis being a "beauty" like none I've ever seen, tall, blonde, so stunningly beautiful; so aristocratic in her facial features. Some of the boys thought she was "queer", although none dared to say "that" to her, for I'm sure she would have considered "that" to be an insult to her "honor", as most women I know would here. She was touchy, ready to strike out at any for the least provoca- tion. I never saw any of her duels, and I'm glad that I didn't. Those who had said that she slew like a great cat would, cutting you up to ribbons before she finally put an end to your torment!! That even in mortal combat her face never "changed", but only re- mained a set "mask" that told "nothing" of her own feelings here. I thought too of my sister, Paula, who was tall, slim, much the Warrioress in a way that I never could have been even had I'd not slew Jani and been sickened by the thought of killing again. She was a wonderful swordswoman, far better than me, perhaps even a "match" for Darlanis, although I wasn't too sure, having seen Darlanis fence at the Academy, even having crossed foils with her a few times! An "experience" that quickly taught me that while I was not inept with the sword, I'd never be another like her or my own sister, both who were truly awesome in their own way, both I should note here being "Queens of Swords" of their own countries! A sound behind me made me jump, "go" for a sword that wasn't there, Carl Talen giving me a smile as he then sat down beside me on the outcropping of rubble that I'd been using for a seat here. "You left your sword where you slept," he smiled at me now. Holding his blanket about himself like I've seen Indians doing. "Just `thinking'," I said, giving him a smile in return. "We're losing this war," he spoke, his voice so calm here. "There's still a lot of Trelandar `she' hasn't got!" I said. "We let the Dularnians `down' when `she' attacked them, and now they see little `reason' to give the lives of their sons and daughters for us," he explained. Speaking a "truth" that I knew. It had been too easy to sit back and watch Darlanis fight another war against someone else, there always being those in any era who will speak against war, against acting even in your own interest. There are historical "parallels" in the 20th Century, just before the beginning of their second great war although one should not draw them too closely. On the other hand I was well aware of the source of Darlanis' tactics, of the fact that in a way I was now responsible for what was happening, if you consider the fact that I'd introduced her to books, to reading, to understanding that it was quite "possible" that people in the past had faced these same problems that we were facing now. Showing her in the history of Trelandar itself that Queen Amethysta Broadica had united Trelan- dar into one country by using the exact same tactics that were in use in the Middle Ages of Europe over a thousand years before us! Methods that are much like how an infection takes over your body. Darlanis taking over Trelandar "piece by piece", establishing her own "government" in that portion, using its resources, its assets to finance her next move much as "corporate raiders" in the 20th Century took over business after business by such methods here... "Ten years ago in her senior thesis she explained how it was possible to take country after country by piece meal conquest, using what you conquered to finance your next conquest," I said, aware that right now Darlanis was doing exactly that here!! "She `just' passed small unit tactics, but she's probably the greatest strategic military thinker in the history of Mankind," I grinned. Darlanis already establishing her "political control" over those parts of Trelandar that she had conquered, her actions reminding one much of those of some infectious disease taking over a body! Breaking up Trelandar into more easily managed great "estates"... "And what was your thesis on?" Carl grinned back at me. "How to make `trouble' for invaders like her," I grinned. "What kind of `score' did she get on her thesis?" he asked. "Same as me, one hundred percent," I smiled right back here! "You should be our Warlady," he smiled, making me smile now! "I'm just a `Scribe', not a Warrioress," I pointed out then. "You only `think' you aren't a Warrioress," he smiled back. "We'd better get some `sleep'," I suggested, Carl nodding. I halted at the edge of the forest, the sky cloudy, speaking of rain soon to come, and still concealed by the trees, swept the area before us with my small telescope. Carl beside me, waiting. Ahead of us laid a small village, a half dozen stores, a tavern. The fields of Peasants beyond, the grain I saw ready for harvest. A military tactic of the Imperials now being to burn such fields. To drive the people from the land, such part of Tara's own plans! The Imperial Warlady well aware here of what such could do to us! Unlike Darlanis, who was at least "honorable", Tara was like the worst of the "scourges" of the distant past, like another Attila. "I hope my men are all right," he said, looking over at me. "Trelandar will `survive', even we do not," I smiled to him. "You think like a Warrioress, even if you aren't marked," he observed. Such I knew was part of the caste codes of the caste. The Warrioress is trained and taught to believe that her country, her cause is more important than her life... That while she may not survive a battle, the cause for which she fights is worth it. That the good of the whole may demand the sacrifice of the part, that some must die in battle so that the many can live in peace. I wondered if he was right, if the caste had indeed selected me? I was no longer an attorney at law, a "Scribe", a woman who lived by laws written down in books, who stood before judges represent- ing her clients, but now a woman who relied upon her skill with a bow, with a sword, upon the training she'd once received long ago to "guide" others in military "assaults" against superior odds. Against the forces of one who she'd known now ten years before. Freedom Fighters of Trelandar A Tale of Adventure in the Second Dark Age Book Nine of the Warlady Series By Jerome B. Bigge Chapter Six I could hear the sounds of crickets chirping in the forest around us as the Moon, just before its last quarter, gleamed down from up above the trees. Carl a sleeping hump there beneath his blanket. The fire only now glowing red embers there between us. The air was cool, not quite "chill" yet, as I knew it would be now in another month or so. Our unicorns dozing on their sides, their ivory horns gleaming in the moonlight shining down upon us. Reaching out, the blanket falling away, I put another hand- ful of twigs on the embers of our fire, then topping with larger. There was, I supposed, little danger now of predatory beasts, but I was also well aware that such dangerous animals did live here. That should a hungry Tigon (saber tooth tiger) come, our swords, my bow, Carl's crossbow would be of little value here against it. It is one thing to inflict a mortal wound on such, another still to stop it in its tracks as it charges, only heavy ballistae be- ing powerful enough to handle such creatures. I'd also heard the Nevadas speak of "things", of great monsters bigger than even any mammoth, of Garths that stood three times as tall as any man did! On the other hand they are a superstitious people, and not always to be believed in things they say, I've found from experience... Picking up my blanket and drawing it about myself, I went to the opening in the ruins and peered out into the forest beyond, the moving waters of the brook gleaming in the Moon's light. De- spite what had happened this day I felt at "peace", as if somehow the cares of a world had been lifted from my feminine shoulders. I felt a "kinship" with Carl I'd never felt with my own husband, a sort of companionship that seemed to meet an unfulfilled need. Carl and I were a "team"; not just two people who happened to be married as had been the case with my late husband here. We did not share "caste" as such, but with Carl I now felt a much closer kinship than I had with Taimes Hibber, my late husband, who had I suspected only seen me as a means to raise his own social status. I'd been to him a "showpiece", a high ranking Trelandarian Lady, a woman whose own sister was the Queen of Trelandar. The war had been a decisive factor, showing that he was not the "man" that he had pretended to be, a fact I'd also suspected before here. Yet, I'd still felt "responsible" for him, and his death when we were surprised by that patrol of Warrioresses still was vivid. Taimes had at least died with a sword in his hand, even if he'd not been a match for the woman he faced, the one I slew only seconds later in a hotly contested battle between my forces and those of Sarn. I thought too of my son, Jerry, who hopefully was still safe with my parents there in the hills to the east of Thistle, the place of my own birth thirty years before. He was five now, a fine young boy, and I prayed to Lys that he'd be safe from harm. I wondered about Darlanis, what passed through her mind now. I remembered her there at the Academy, although she'd been a hard person to really get to "know" there, almost as if she was living inside a "shell" of some sort much like that of a turtle. I re- membered all the conversations I'd had with her, Darlanis having been a great "admirer" of Janet Rogers, of whom I wasn't, feeling in my heart that the woman was more just a "legend" than "fact". Darlanis had been "hard"... The sort who could kill without emo- tion, without even feeling, I suspected, knowing what I did here. We used to say that she was a "man" in a woman's body, that she didn't "feel" as a woman would, that she wasn't really "human"... She didn't have any boyfriends, although enough chased after her, Darlanis being a "beauty" like none I've ever seen, tall, blonde, so stunningly beautiful; so aristocratic in her facial features. Some of the boys thought she was "queer", although none dared to say "that" to her, for I'm sure she would have considered "that" to be an insult to her "honor", as most women I know would here. She was touchy, ready to strike out at any for the least provoca- tion. I never saw any of her duels, and I'm glad that I didn't. Those who had said that she slew like a great cat would, cutting you up to ribbons before she finally put an end to your torment!! That even in mortal combat her face never "changed", but only re- mained a set "mask" that told "nothing" of her own feelings here. I thought too of my sister, Paula, who was tall, slim, much the Warrioress in a way that I never could have been even had I'd not slew Jani and been sickened by the thought of killing again. She was a wonderful swordswoman, far better than me, perhaps even a "match" for Darlanis, although I wasn't too sure, having seen Darlanis fence at the Academy, even having crossed foils with her a few times! An "experience" that quickly taught me that while I was not inept with the sword, I'd never be another like her or my own sister, both who were truly awesome in their own way, both I should note here being "Queens of Swords" of their own countries! A sound behind me made me jump, "go" for a sword that wasn't there, Carl Talen giving me a smile as he then sat down beside me on the outcropping of rubble that I'd been using for a seat here. "You left your sword where you slept," he smiled at me now. Holding his blanket about himself like I've seen Indians doing. "Just `thinking'," I said, giving him a smile in return. "We're losing this war," he spoke, his voice so calm here. "There's still a lot of Trelandar `she' hasn't got!" I said. "We let the Dularnians `down' when `she' attacked them, and now they see little `reason' to give the lives of their sons and daughters for us," he explained. Speaking a "truth" that I knew. It had been too easy to sit back and watch Darlanis fight another war against someone else, there always being those in any era who will speak against war, against acting even in your own interest. There are historical "parallels" in the 20th Century, just before the beginning of their second great war although one should not draw them too closely. On the other hand I was well aware of the source of Darlanis' tactics, of the fact that in a way I was now responsible for what was happening, if you consider the fact that I'd introduced her to books, to reading, to understanding that it was quite "possible" that people in the past had faced these same problems that we were facing now. Showing her in the history of Trelandar itself that Queen Amethysta Broadica had united Trelan- dar into one country by using the exact same tactics that were in use in the Middle Ages of Europe over a thousand years before us! Methods that are much like how an infection takes over your body. Darlanis taking over Trelandar "piece by piece", establishing her own "government" in that portion, using its resources, its assets to finance her next move much as "corporate raiders" in the 20th Century took over business after business by such methods here... "Ten years ago in her senior thesis she explained how it was possible to take country after country by piece meal conquest, using what you conquered to finance your next conquest," I said, aware that right now Darlanis was doing exactly that here!! "She `just' passed small unit tactics, but she's probably the greatest strategic military thinker in the history of Mankind," I grinned. Darlanis already establishing her "political control" over those parts of Trelandar that she had conquered, her actions reminding one much of those of some infectious disease taking over a body! Breaking up Trelandar into more easily managed great "estates"... "And what was your thesis on?" Carl grinned back at me. "How to make `trouble' for invaders like her," I grinned. "What kind of `score' did she get on her thesis?" he asked. "Same as me, one hundred percent," I smiled right back here! "You should be our Warlady," he smiled, making me smile now! "I'm just a `Scribe', not a Warrioress," I pointed out then. "You only `think' you aren't a Warrioress," he smiled back. "We'd better get some `sleep'," I suggested, Carl nodding. I halted at the edge of the forest, the sky cloudy, speaking of rain soon to come, and still concealed by the trees, swept the area before us with my small telescope. Carl beside me, waiting. Ahead of us laid a small village, a half dozen stores, a tavern. The fields of Peasants beyond, the grain I saw ready for harvest. A military tactic of the Imperials now being to burn such fields. To drive the people from the land, such part of Tara's own plans! The Imperial Warlady well aware here of what such could do to us! Unlike Darlanis, who was at least "honorable", Tara was like the worst of the "scourges" of the distant past, like another Attila. "I hope my men are all right," he said, looking over at me. "Trelandar will `survive', even we do not," I smiled to him. "You think like a Warrioress, even if you aren't marked," he observed. Such I knew was part of the caste codes of the caste. The Warrioress is trained and taught to believe that her country, her cause is more important than her life... That while she may not survive a battle, the cause for which she fights is worth it. That the good of the whole may demand the sacrifice of the part, that some must die in battle so that the many can live in peace. I wondered if he was right, if the caste had indeed selected me? I was no longer an attorney at law, a "Scribe", a woman who lived by laws written down in books, who stood before judges represent- ing her clients, but now a woman who relied upon her skill with a bow, with a sword, upon the training she'd once received long ago to "guide" others in military "assaults" against superior odds. Against the forces of one who she'd known now ten years before. |
|
|