"FREE-12" - 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 Twelve "A real `die hard'," Carl said to me, putting his arm around me as I stood at his side, aware of how hard these things were to kill. Of how helpless we'd be against them if more of them came! The creature was I'd say here the size of a gorilla, but "scaly". "We build a fire," I said, my voice showing my terror here. "We could attract unwelcome attention doing so," he spoke. "And when it is too dark to fight?" I challenged him back. "We will make a small fire, and keep watch," he said to me. "You kissed me," I said to Carl, wondering why I spoke now. "And you kissed back," he pointed out, still yet holding me. "I was once wealthy," I said, knowing all such was gone now. "Such things are of little concern any more," he said to me. "My son needs a father," I said, getting the unicorns here, half stumbling over some unseen object on the flooring before me. Muttering a curse under my breath that hopefully he didn't hear! "You are rather `forward'," he observed with a chuckle now, then lighting a small candle that had been among his things here. "But I like a woman who knows her mind," he added, looking at me. The flickering candle light doing little to dispel the shadows as I now tied the unicorns to something that hopefully would hold... "See you can find something to burn," I "suggested" to him. "I see that you're rather `bossy' too," he laughed in reply. "I do want a fire..." I replied, standing there before him. "And rather stubborn to boot," he observed, grinning at me. The thought suddenly going through my mind just now that I hadn't bathed or shaved for a couple days there while we'd been riding to the south. Which meant I'd be both smelly and sandpapery! "On the other hand you're good looking, smart, and you'd probably fill an evening gown pretty good," he said, grinning like a fool! "Go find something that will burn!" I protested back at him! "Not even married, and she's bossing me around!" he laughed! "Carl, go find something to start a fire with!" I retorted!! "Feel better now?" Carl asked, holding me close, the blanket a comfort too as the night chill came... I could hear the sounds of the forest, the night sounds, the thought going through me as to how many MORE of these "horrors" lurked out there in the dark? "You stood facing `that' with only your sword," I said then. "That was the only weapon I had left," he smiled back at me. "That oil burns well," I smiled, changing the subject a bit. He'd punctured a can with his dagger, found out what it was here. We'd soaked some weeds with it, and were burning it off. There was a lot of smoke, but it was unlikely to be seen at night here. "You're worth fighting for," he said, looking into my eyes. "I'm not worth that much," I said, ashamed of how I'd broke down there in tears when I'd been the plaything of Princess Tara. The mosquitoes were out, and we'd run out of repellent here too. "I like the shape of your face," he answered, running a fin- gertip along the side of my face, turning me so that I faced him. "The fullness of your mouth, the spacing of your eyes," he con- tinued, his words sounding so foolish now, but so wonderful then. "The fire's dying down," I replied, giving him a smile now. Carl tossing some dried branches he'd found on to the smoldering weeds, and dumping the rest of the oil can, the fire blazing up. "That should take care of it for a while," he grinned to me. "We're losing this war," I said, seeing him nod back then. "There are places where the Imperials will never go," Carl answered. "Places where we could live out our lives together..." I knew of such places, places where people have gone to get away from "civilization". Places up in the Sierras to the east here. "Oh!" I gasped, a woman, dressed in leather, suddenly now standing there among the shadows! A bow in her hands, an arrow nocked on the string, her weapon, her trappings all Trelandarian! "Stand, raise your hands!" she snapped, two more joining her as we did so, these two also being armed the same now as she was! "I am the Lady Sanda, and this is captain Carl Talen of the Royal Guard," I spoke, the three nodding, glancing at one another as they stood there with their bows half drawn. The weapons be- ing the common composite military bow of Trelandar, not the more fancy and much more expensive compound bow such as I carried now. "I am Sargent Marta Satel of the Huntresses," she declared, lowering her weapon, easing the bow with its arrow on the string. This being an elite force of Queen Paula's, all Warrioresses by caste, who were trained to sneak behind enemy lines to harass the enemy, the idea having originally been my own, I should add here. "We are `losing' the war with the Empire," Marta said as she and her two companions shared our fire, the food we'd carried in our saddle bags, the three being all that was left of a force of ten who had left a week before to wreak havoc upon the enemy... Her hair blonde beneath the dark scarf that she wore covering it. "For every one of them that we kill, two more rise to take his place," the one on her right said, the other one now nodding. "We have but three Legions left to `her' seven," Marta said. Darlanis was "winning", but at a price that might prove too high even for her. "Our Queen is brave, our Warlady experienced, but we need someone who can devise new ways of fighting," she spoke, her eyes burning into mine as I nodded, well aware of things now! Of the fact that many Trelandarians saw me here as our "savior". "How many Huntresses are left now?" I asked, fearing to hear the answer. Paula had obviously been doing everything she could to "hold on" here, but it was likely that we'd have to retreat up into the mountains, fight a guerrilla war that would last years!! "Perhaps a third of the original one hundred," I was told. "And the `Hunters'?" Carl asked, Marta shaking her head. "Their Warlady is `better' than ours," one said then. "Tirana is good," I answered, "But set in her ways." "If you would accept the caste mark..." Marta spoke. "It would do no good," I answered, sitting by Carl. "Then Trelandar is lost," one of the women said now. "Trelandar is `lost' only when we give up," I answered. "It will soon be the fall of the year," Carl said to me. "Perhaps," I answered, drawing myself a map of Trelandar. "You are a Warlady, a Warrioress," Marta said to me then. "I will speak to my sister, see what can be done," I said. "You were valedictorian at the Academy," Marta said to me. "And the caste has selected," Carl said, looking over at me. "Trelandar is my country," I said, "Even if I am a Scribe." I wore the trappings, the ornaments of a Trelandarian Lady, royal Warrioresses raising their lances in salute as we rode into the camp, my reputation having no doubt proceeded me on the lips of those who we'd captured. To the Imperials I was "TROUBLE", a whole lot of trouble, an "annoyance" to the Empress herself here. Not because of the "numbers" of my forces, but because I hit and ran, reappearing the next day perhaps twenty, thirty miles away! Warriors raising their swords, men at arms their spears and bows. It was late in the day, the sun now low in the west. It had been a long ride, and I was tired, almost "exhausted" from all of it. What in another era they'd once called "combat fatigue" long ago. "Her majesty..." Carl breathed, Queen Paula standing there, her golden crown gleaming in the sunlight, just the same as ever. "Hasn't changed a bit," I answered, giving him a smile back. "Sanda!" Paula cried, reaching out with her arms to me here. She was tall, dark haired, beautiful too in a way that I am not. Not as awesome as Darlanis in her beauty, but more "regal". The long formal gown she wore not the sort of attire that I felt the Queen of a country at war should wear, but Paula was Paula... A Queen with no heir, Paula's only child having been stillborn, a horror that the Priestesses would have never now allowed to live! After that Paula had not wished to bear any more children despite the fact that she was ruling without a heir to replace her here! "It's good to be back," I said, wishing I'd had a bath here. I was dirty, smelly, and looked like someone who'd been fighting. Who had looked into the face of the God of War himself recently. A "freedom fighter" as I saw myself, a "terrorist" to the Empire. "I'm sure you'll have much to tell me," Paula said, guiding me into her tent. A slave girl kneeling, knees well together as was proper. The steel collar about her neck recalling to me how close it had been for me too there at the hands of Princess Tara. That could have been me kneeling before Darlanis if she'd wanted. The furnishings here inside the tent leaving no doubts that Paula lived well despite the war. That she saw this more perhaps as a chess match than a battle for domination of a civilization now a dream in the mind of a woman. A tall, golden creature, awesome, like a goddess from some long forgotten Nordic saga of the past. That was "who" we were fighting, and losing our country to here. I visualized Darlanis standing beside Paula, and quickly came to the conclusion that Darlanis, despite her "delusions", was more a leader that men might follow in war than this silken gowned sis- ter of mine! This Queen of Trelandar who didn't understand that one does not ride off to war in a formal evening gown. No doubt she took risks, riding as close to battle as she did, but she was not truly a "leader", not admired the way that Darlanis was now!! Making me realize with a sinking heart that we were going to lose our country to Darlanis, and it would be the fault of my sister!! Freedom Fighters of Trelandar A Tale of Adventure in the Second Dark Age Book Nine of the Warlady Series By Jerome B. Bigge Chapter Twelve "A real `die hard'," Carl said to me, putting his arm around me as I stood at his side, aware of how hard these things were to kill. Of how helpless we'd be against them if more of them came! The creature was I'd say here the size of a gorilla, but "scaly". "We build a fire," I said, my voice showing my terror here. "We could attract unwelcome attention doing so," he spoke. "And when it is too dark to fight?" I challenged him back. "We will make a small fire, and keep watch," he said to me. "You kissed me," I said to Carl, wondering why I spoke now. "And you kissed back," he pointed out, still yet holding me. "I was once wealthy," I said, knowing all such was gone now. "Such things are of little concern any more," he said to me. "My son needs a father," I said, getting the unicorns here, half stumbling over some unseen object on the flooring before me. Muttering a curse under my breath that hopefully he didn't hear! "You are rather `forward'," he observed with a chuckle now, then lighting a small candle that had been among his things here. "But I like a woman who knows her mind," he added, looking at me. The flickering candle light doing little to dispel the shadows as I now tied the unicorns to something that hopefully would hold... "See you can find something to burn," I "suggested" to him. "I see that you're rather `bossy' too," he laughed in reply. "I do want a fire..." I replied, standing there before him. "And rather stubborn to boot," he observed, grinning at me. The thought suddenly going through my mind just now that I hadn't bathed or shaved for a couple days there while we'd been riding to the south. Which meant I'd be both smelly and sandpapery! "On the other hand you're good looking, smart, and you'd probably fill an evening gown pretty good," he said, grinning like a fool! "Go find something that will burn!" I protested back at him! "Not even married, and she's bossing me around!" he laughed! "Carl, go find something to start a fire with!" I retorted!! "Feel better now?" Carl asked, holding me close, the blanket a comfort too as the night chill came... I could hear the sounds of the forest, the night sounds, the thought going through me as to how many MORE of these "horrors" lurked out there in the dark? "You stood facing `that' with only your sword," I said then. "That was the only weapon I had left," he smiled back at me. "That oil burns well," I smiled, changing the subject a bit. He'd punctured a can with his dagger, found out what it was here. We'd soaked some weeds with it, and were burning it off. There was a lot of smoke, but it was unlikely to be seen at night here. "You're worth fighting for," he said, looking into my eyes. "I'm not worth that much," I said, ashamed of how I'd broke down there in tears when I'd been the plaything of Princess Tara. The mosquitoes were out, and we'd run out of repellent here too. "I like the shape of your face," he answered, running a fin- gertip along the side of my face, turning me so that I faced him. "The fullness of your mouth, the spacing of your eyes," he con- tinued, his words sounding so foolish now, but so wonderful then. "The fire's dying down," I replied, giving him a smile now. Carl tossing some dried branches he'd found on to the smoldering weeds, and dumping the rest of the oil can, the fire blazing up. "That should take care of it for a while," he grinned to me. "We're losing this war," I said, seeing him nod back then. "There are places where the Imperials will never go," Carl answered. "Places where we could live out our lives together..." I knew of such places, places where people have gone to get away from "civilization". Places up in the Sierras to the east here. "Oh!" I gasped, a woman, dressed in leather, suddenly now standing there among the shadows! A bow in her hands, an arrow nocked on the string, her weapon, her trappings all Trelandarian! "Stand, raise your hands!" she snapped, two more joining her as we did so, these two also being armed the same now as she was! "I am the Lady Sanda, and this is captain Carl Talen of the Royal Guard," I spoke, the three nodding, glancing at one another as they stood there with their bows half drawn. The weapons be- ing the common composite military bow of Trelandar, not the more fancy and much more expensive compound bow such as I carried now. "I am Sargent Marta Satel of the Huntresses," she declared, lowering her weapon, easing the bow with its arrow on the string. This being an elite force of Queen Paula's, all Warrioresses by caste, who were trained to sneak behind enemy lines to harass the enemy, the idea having originally been my own, I should add here. "We are `losing' the war with the Empire," Marta said as she and her two companions shared our fire, the food we'd carried in our saddle bags, the three being all that was left of a force of ten who had left a week before to wreak havoc upon the enemy... Her hair blonde beneath the dark scarf that she wore covering it. "For every one of them that we kill, two more rise to take his place," the one on her right said, the other one now nodding. "We have but three Legions left to `her' seven," Marta said. Darlanis was "winning", but at a price that might prove too high even for her. "Our Queen is brave, our Warlady experienced, but we need someone who can devise new ways of fighting," she spoke, her eyes burning into mine as I nodded, well aware of things now! Of the fact that many Trelandarians saw me here as our "savior". "How many Huntresses are left now?" I asked, fearing to hear the answer. Paula had obviously been doing everything she could to "hold on" here, but it was likely that we'd have to retreat up into the mountains, fight a guerrilla war that would last years!! "Perhaps a third of the original one hundred," I was told. "And the `Hunters'?" Carl asked, Marta shaking her head. "Their Warlady is `better' than ours," one said then. "Tirana is good," I answered, "But set in her ways." "If you would accept the caste mark..." Marta spoke. "It would do no good," I answered, sitting by Carl. "Then Trelandar is lost," one of the women said now. "Trelandar is `lost' only when we give up," I answered. "It will soon be the fall of the year," Carl said to me. "Perhaps," I answered, drawing myself a map of Trelandar. "You are a Warlady, a Warrioress," Marta said to me then. "I will speak to my sister, see what can be done," I said. "You were valedictorian at the Academy," Marta said to me. "And the caste has selected," Carl said, looking over at me. "Trelandar is my country," I said, "Even if I am a Scribe." I wore the trappings, the ornaments of a Trelandarian Lady, royal Warrioresses raising their lances in salute as we rode into the camp, my reputation having no doubt proceeded me on the lips of those who we'd captured. To the Imperials I was "TROUBLE", a whole lot of trouble, an "annoyance" to the Empress herself here. Not because of the "numbers" of my forces, but because I hit and ran, reappearing the next day perhaps twenty, thirty miles away! Warriors raising their swords, men at arms their spears and bows. It was late in the day, the sun now low in the west. It had been a long ride, and I was tired, almost "exhausted" from all of it. What in another era they'd once called "combat fatigue" long ago. "Her majesty..." Carl breathed, Queen Paula standing there, her golden crown gleaming in the sunlight, just the same as ever. "Hasn't changed a bit," I answered, giving him a smile back. "Sanda!" Paula cried, reaching out with her arms to me here. She was tall, dark haired, beautiful too in a way that I am not. Not as awesome as Darlanis in her beauty, but more "regal". The long formal gown she wore not the sort of attire that I felt the Queen of a country at war should wear, but Paula was Paula... A Queen with no heir, Paula's only child having been stillborn, a horror that the Priestesses would have never now allowed to live! After that Paula had not wished to bear any more children despite the fact that she was ruling without a heir to replace her here! "It's good to be back," I said, wishing I'd had a bath here. I was dirty, smelly, and looked like someone who'd been fighting. Who had looked into the face of the God of War himself recently. A "freedom fighter" as I saw myself, a "terrorist" to the Empire. "I'm sure you'll have much to tell me," Paula said, guiding me into her tent. A slave girl kneeling, knees well together as was proper. The steel collar about her neck recalling to me how close it had been for me too there at the hands of Princess Tara. That could have been me kneeling before Darlanis if she'd wanted. The furnishings here inside the tent leaving no doubts that Paula lived well despite the war. That she saw this more perhaps as a chess match than a battle for domination of a civilization now a dream in the mind of a woman. A tall, golden creature, awesome, like a goddess from some long forgotten Nordic saga of the past. That was "who" we were fighting, and losing our country to here. I visualized Darlanis standing beside Paula, and quickly came to the conclusion that Darlanis, despite her "delusions", was more a leader that men might follow in war than this silken gowned sis- ter of mine! This Queen of Trelandar who didn't understand that one does not ride off to war in a formal evening gown. No doubt she took risks, riding as close to battle as she did, but she was not truly a "leader", not admired the way that Darlanis was now!! Making me realize with a sinking heart that we were going to lose our country to Darlanis, and it would be the fault of my sister!! |
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