"FREE-22" - 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 Twenty Two "Dangerous what we're doing," Marta said to me as we huddled in our blankets, a tiny fire serving more to cheer us than warm. We were far to the north of our lines now, up into the foothills there east of Thistle, with the Sierras further yet to the east. It was now getting noticeably "colder", especially at night, with frosts soon to be expected here at these heights as we came into the last of October and moved into November. The war itself had become a stalemate, our tactics having served only to allow us to hold what part of Trelandar we had left, while Darlanis consoli- dated her power over the rest of it. On the other hand Darlanis was having "troubles" of her own as we'd learned from the prison- ers of war that Paula had taken here. While those of the "black castes" were still loyal to her, she was having trouble with her own men at arms, at those who formed up the ranks of her Legions. Men terrified of going on patrol, meeting up with us at night... Stories told of Warrioresses who rode out never to be seen again. "You didn't have to come along," I pointed out to her here. Her golden hair making me think of Darlanis for some reason now. "You're our Warlady, I feel `responsible'," she answered. "We'll be all right," I replied, aware of the risks here. "We'll be a family," Carl said to me, aware of our mission. "Yes," I said, thinking of my son, knowing there would be an "adjustment" that would have to be made. Taime was dead, and I was remarried, another man's wife now, "Talen" now, not "Hibber". Carl was a Warrior, not a Scribe, a man of a different "culture". His own family, his wife, his daughter, had died there at Trella. I wondered what I would say to my mother in law after this time. "I'm going alone," I said, pausing there at the edge of the woods, there being no evidence of anything out of the ordinary... No patrolling Imperials, just the fields, trees here and there. "Sanda..." Carl said, looking at me, aware of the dangers. "It's `better' if I do it this way," I said, seeing him nod. Marta Satel sitting there on her unicorn, our animals showing in their appearance, their coats that they were hard used, something I feared that someone more "observant" than most might so notice. The little house ahead having been one belonging to friends then. Our own manor near Thistle having been taken by the Imperials who sought to destroy everything they could of our own upper classes. Replacing them with Imperial Lords and Ladies loyal to Darlanis. "`Good luck'," Marta said, her eyes meeting mine as I nodded and then kicked my tired dapple gray into a trot across the open fields towards the house sitting there all by its lonesome here. I carried no weapons, not even the dagger most free women carry. The sun shining brightly in the sky, although the air was "cool". I was tired from the long ride, from sleeping on the ground, not at my best, my hair needing brushing, a bath something I needed. My dress a woolen blouse and a leather skirt, common enough sorts of attire that I'd draw little notice from anyone about here now. I saw Jerry stand up, look at me, at this woman he'd not now "seen" for months, this woman on her dapple gray mare he'd ridden with his mother's comforting arms around him. The dog beside him growling in warning, the hair standing up on the Boston Terrier's back. The puppy having been a gift of my sister's two years ago. His dress like that of any Trelandarian boy, jacket and trousers. Obviously he'd been hard at play, perhaps "pestering" some ants, one species of which now grows to be several inches in length... "Mother?" Jerry breathed, perhaps not "believing" his eyes, then running up to me here, Trouble (his dog) at his side barking at me. His dark eyes looking up into mine as I leaped down, took him in my arms, hugging him to me, my eyes wet with emotion as I held him to myself, to my no doubt by now rather smelly self. It had been a long time, "longer" for a boy like him than an adult. I had no idea of what my parents had told him, of what he knew of me save that I was fighting for our country against the Empire. My hand stroking his hair, my eyes moist with tears as I held him to me. "You were gone SO LONG..." he breathed out, clinging now. "Sanda? Is that you?" the woman spoke, peering out at me, making me think of an owl, bringing back memories of years ago... We'd been friends long before Taime and I grew "serious" about each other, before I went to the Academy to become a Warrioress as my parents wished, before I fought that duel that taught me of "realities" I'd never faced before. Mrs. Hibber still the "same" as ever, still the same Katherine Hibber I'd known for so long. Still the old Scribe who had told me so many tales of long ago. Who had tutored me, taught me how to read, write, do figuring... She was getting touches of gray in her hair, no doubt from all of what had happened here, her dark colored dress seemingly fitting. She'd married quite late in life, having been up in her seventies before she finally decided to allow her own neck to be "chained". "My parents? Are they here?" I asked, standing up, holding my son, my unicorn searching the ground looking for something to eat. The Boston Terrier looking up at me, cute as only a Boston can be, the royal dog of Trelandar dating back to Amethysta here. "You'd better come in, there is `much' you should know," she answered, her tone of voice leaving few doubts of things now too! Nor did the black silk she wore about her neck chain either here! The mark of a wife in mourning, one who has been freshly widowed! "The Imperials demanded from us `everything', even our own daughters for their pleasure," Katherine spoke, her voice level, almost emotionless here as she sat across from me. "Your father stood before our people, his wife there at his side, and told the Imperials that only the minions of the EVIL ONE Himself would do such things..." she continued on here. "He was truly of the War- riors, even without a sword at his hip as usual." I could see the scene in my own mind, my father there. My mother tall at his side as always, loyal, faithful... No doubt aware of "what" they faced. "That Warlady of theirs, that Tara Bisan, ordered her men to shoot, to kill! Saying that she would teach us the `folly' of resisting!" she spoke, her eyes glittering as she told the tale. Tales I'd heard elsewhere of Tara's activities, the woman like a Nazi from the 20th Century. The interior of the house warm, com- fortable, bringing memories of my own childhood, of a land where war was something that men spoke, tales of derring do, while the black clad women who wore their neck chains smiled at each other. Their children playing together quietly while the adults talked. "Your daughter?" I asked now, having written her of Taime's own death in battle somewhere to the south of Trella four months ago. One of my people having delivered the letter I'd written so she'd "know" even if I'd not been able to do so in person due to the war. My arm protectively around my son as I sat there on the sofa, seeing Katherine shaking her head now in the negative. The dog "dozing" on the carpet, but yet alert, its ears moving a bit. A house where generations had lived, died, a century or more now. Katherine's parents had lived here, died here some decades ago. "A slave girl in their brothels, if Dia is not dead by now!" the widow snapped back, her eyes burning with fury into my own!! The girl had been fifteen, but I supposed they hadn't cared any. Rape and pillage having been common wherever Imperials went here. "Damn the soul of Darlanis to Hell! Let her live for eternity as a slave girl of the EVIL ONE, lick his claws as she so deserves!" The EVIL ONE being pictured in THE BOOK OF LYS as being a horrid looking being much like a gigantic spider, a thing of many legs, each tipped with claws much like those of the legs of a Lorr... "You can come with us, help us fight," I said to her. "Take your son with you, teach him to hate," she said. "And you?" I asked, seeing her eyes, the madness in them. "Take him, go, leave this place," Katherine said, getting up now. The dog barking, going to the door, running ahead of her, a "warning" that not everything was as it should be now. Saying to me then, "Your mother's sword is in the closet there, get it..." A glimpse out the window through the curtains leaving no doubts! I stood waiting behind the door as Katherine Hibber opened it, the booted feet of the Imperial trooper thumping on the steps as he came climbing up, thudding across the porch, followed by his two companions. Men in helmets, chain mail, brutal men, just the sort that would follow "The Queen of Darkness" as some now so called Tara, referring to the fact she'd once been Queen of Sarn. I came spinning around the door, pivoting on my left foot, my mother's beautiful slim sword, a blade of stainless steel five centuries old, there in my hand as I thrust, driving up into his throat, cutting, piercing, his outcry only a strangled gurgle... The second man leaping back, going for his sword, but too slow, a quick thrust finishing him as Carl had taught me to me to do, my once "rusty" skills with a blade now only a thing of the past. I met the blade of the third, the clash of steel swift and deadly. Catching his blade in mine, twisting, "thrusting" as Carl taught! "Your mother would be proud of you," Katherine smiled then. My son standing there wide eyed, looking first at the dead men, and then at me, the look on his face speaking much of things now. "If any learn..." I breathed back, thinking of her here now. What the Imperials would do to her if they learned of this here. It was for this reason that I carried poison, a swifter death... "Drag them into the woods, leave them for the `beasts'," she answered, "Let their souls face the judgment of Lys," she added. "No doubt they have not seen a Priestess for some time," she said to me with a grin, it being held of course that Lys' judgment of your soul will be far more strict if you ignore the Priestesses. Freedom Fighters of Trelandar A Tale of Adventure in the Second Dark Age Book Nine of the Warlady Series By Jerome B. Bigge Chapter Twenty Two "Dangerous what we're doing," Marta said to me as we huddled in our blankets, a tiny fire serving more to cheer us than warm. We were far to the north of our lines now, up into the foothills there east of Thistle, with the Sierras further yet to the east. It was now getting noticeably "colder", especially at night, with frosts soon to be expected here at these heights as we came into the last of October and moved into November. The war itself had become a stalemate, our tactics having served only to allow us to hold what part of Trelandar we had left, while Darlanis consoli- dated her power over the rest of it. On the other hand Darlanis was having "troubles" of her own as we'd learned from the prison- ers of war that Paula had taken here. While those of the "black castes" were still loyal to her, she was having trouble with her own men at arms, at those who formed up the ranks of her Legions. Men terrified of going on patrol, meeting up with us at night... Stories told of Warrioresses who rode out never to be seen again. "You didn't have to come along," I pointed out to her here. Her golden hair making me think of Darlanis for some reason now. "You're our Warlady, I feel `responsible'," she answered. "We'll be all right," I replied, aware of the risks here. "We'll be a family," Carl said to me, aware of our mission. "Yes," I said, thinking of my son, knowing there would be an "adjustment" that would have to be made. Taime was dead, and I was remarried, another man's wife now, "Talen" now, not "Hibber". Carl was a Warrior, not a Scribe, a man of a different "culture". His own family, his wife, his daughter, had died there at Trella. I wondered what I would say to my mother in law after this time. "I'm going alone," I said, pausing there at the edge of the woods, there being no evidence of anything out of the ordinary... No patrolling Imperials, just the fields, trees here and there. "Sanda..." Carl said, looking at me, aware of the dangers. "It's `better' if I do it this way," I said, seeing him nod. Marta Satel sitting there on her unicorn, our animals showing in their appearance, their coats that they were hard used, something I feared that someone more "observant" than most might so notice. The little house ahead having been one belonging to friends then. Our own manor near Thistle having been taken by the Imperials who sought to destroy everything they could of our own upper classes. Replacing them with Imperial Lords and Ladies loyal to Darlanis. "`Good luck'," Marta said, her eyes meeting mine as I nodded and then kicked my tired dapple gray into a trot across the open fields towards the house sitting there all by its lonesome here. I carried no weapons, not even the dagger most free women carry. The sun shining brightly in the sky, although the air was "cool". I was tired from the long ride, from sleeping on the ground, not at my best, my hair needing brushing, a bath something I needed. My dress a woolen blouse and a leather skirt, common enough sorts of attire that I'd draw little notice from anyone about here now. I saw Jerry stand up, look at me, at this woman he'd not now "seen" for months, this woman on her dapple gray mare he'd ridden with his mother's comforting arms around him. The dog beside him growling in warning, the hair standing up on the Boston Terrier's back. The puppy having been a gift of my sister's two years ago. His dress like that of any Trelandarian boy, jacket and trousers. Obviously he'd been hard at play, perhaps "pestering" some ants, one species of which now grows to be several inches in length... "Mother?" Jerry breathed, perhaps not "believing" his eyes, then running up to me here, Trouble (his dog) at his side barking at me. His dark eyes looking up into mine as I leaped down, took him in my arms, hugging him to me, my eyes wet with emotion as I held him to myself, to my no doubt by now rather smelly self. It had been a long time, "longer" for a boy like him than an adult. I had no idea of what my parents had told him, of what he knew of me save that I was fighting for our country against the Empire. My hand stroking his hair, my eyes moist with tears as I held him to me. "You were gone SO LONG..." he breathed out, clinging now. "Sanda? Is that you?" the woman spoke, peering out at me, making me think of an owl, bringing back memories of years ago... We'd been friends long before Taime and I grew "serious" about each other, before I went to the Academy to become a Warrioress as my parents wished, before I fought that duel that taught me of "realities" I'd never faced before. Mrs. Hibber still the "same" as ever, still the same Katherine Hibber I'd known for so long. Still the old Scribe who had told me so many tales of long ago. Who had tutored me, taught me how to read, write, do figuring... She was getting touches of gray in her hair, no doubt from all of what had happened here, her dark colored dress seemingly fitting. She'd married quite late in life, having been up in her seventies before she finally decided to allow her own neck to be "chained". "My parents? Are they here?" I asked, standing up, holding my son, my unicorn searching the ground looking for something to eat. The Boston Terrier looking up at me, cute as only a Boston can be, the royal dog of Trelandar dating back to Amethysta here. "You'd better come in, there is `much' you should know," she answered, her tone of voice leaving few doubts of things now too! Nor did the black silk she wore about her neck chain either here! The mark of a wife in mourning, one who has been freshly widowed! "The Imperials demanded from us `everything', even our own daughters for their pleasure," Katherine spoke, her voice level, almost emotionless here as she sat across from me. "Your father stood before our people, his wife there at his side, and told the Imperials that only the minions of the EVIL ONE Himself would do such things..." she continued on here. "He was truly of the War- riors, even without a sword at his hip as usual." I could see the scene in my own mind, my father there. My mother tall at his side as always, loyal, faithful... No doubt aware of "what" they faced. "That Warlady of theirs, that Tara Bisan, ordered her men to shoot, to kill! Saying that she would teach us the `folly' of resisting!" she spoke, her eyes glittering as she told the tale. Tales I'd heard elsewhere of Tara's activities, the woman like a Nazi from the 20th Century. The interior of the house warm, com- fortable, bringing memories of my own childhood, of a land where war was something that men spoke, tales of derring do, while the black clad women who wore their neck chains smiled at each other. Their children playing together quietly while the adults talked. "Your daughter?" I asked now, having written her of Taime's own death in battle somewhere to the south of Trella four months ago. One of my people having delivered the letter I'd written so she'd "know" even if I'd not been able to do so in person due to the war. My arm protectively around my son as I sat there on the sofa, seeing Katherine shaking her head now in the negative. The dog "dozing" on the carpet, but yet alert, its ears moving a bit. A house where generations had lived, died, a century or more now. Katherine's parents had lived here, died here some decades ago. "A slave girl in their brothels, if Dia is not dead by now!" the widow snapped back, her eyes burning with fury into my own!! The girl had been fifteen, but I supposed they hadn't cared any. Rape and pillage having been common wherever Imperials went here. "Damn the soul of Darlanis to Hell! Let her live for eternity as a slave girl of the EVIL ONE, lick his claws as she so deserves!" The EVIL ONE being pictured in THE BOOK OF LYS as being a horrid looking being much like a gigantic spider, a thing of many legs, each tipped with claws much like those of the legs of a Lorr... "You can come with us, help us fight," I said to her. "Take your son with you, teach him to hate," she said. "And you?" I asked, seeing her eyes, the madness in them. "Take him, go, leave this place," Katherine said, getting up now. The dog barking, going to the door, running ahead of her, a "warning" that not everything was as it should be now. Saying to me then, "Your mother's sword is in the closet there, get it..." A glimpse out the window through the curtains leaving no doubts! I stood waiting behind the door as Katherine Hibber opened it, the booted feet of the Imperial trooper thumping on the steps as he came climbing up, thudding across the porch, followed by his two companions. Men in helmets, chain mail, brutal men, just the sort that would follow "The Queen of Darkness" as some now so called Tara, referring to the fact she'd once been Queen of Sarn. I came spinning around the door, pivoting on my left foot, my mother's beautiful slim sword, a blade of stainless steel five centuries old, there in my hand as I thrust, driving up into his throat, cutting, piercing, his outcry only a strangled gurgle... The second man leaping back, going for his sword, but too slow, a quick thrust finishing him as Carl had taught me to me to do, my once "rusty" skills with a blade now only a thing of the past. I met the blade of the third, the clash of steel swift and deadly. Catching his blade in mine, twisting, "thrusting" as Carl taught! "Your mother would be proud of you," Katherine smiled then. My son standing there wide eyed, looking first at the dead men, and then at me, the look on his face speaking much of things now. "If any learn..." I breathed back, thinking of her here now. What the Imperials would do to her if they learned of this here. It was for this reason that I carried poison, a swifter death... "Drag them into the woods, leave them for the `beasts'," she answered, "Let their souls face the judgment of Lys," she added. "No doubt they have not seen a Priestess for some time," she said to me with a grin, it being held of course that Lys' judgment of your soul will be far more strict if you ignore the Priestesses. |
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