"FREE-25" - 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 Five "A lovely night," Lady Lana smiled to me as we stood behind the house, the stars shining down upon us, Mars bright in the sky there to the south. It was a bit "chill", but such is to be ex- pected at this time of the year. Nothing of course like Dularn, where it snows in the winter, where smaller lakes do freeze over. The climate having changed from what it was before The War here. "I wish you weren't an `enemy'," I said, looking at her. "I keep wondering what I'd do in your place," she said. "You'd fight just like I have," I said, sensing her nod. "It is said that you do not bear the mark," she answered. "I do not believe in `dueling'," I answered in level tones. "Because of that classmate you killed," Lana said, touching my arm, standing there, her eyes dark pools in the starlight now. I supposed she would have known about it, as the incident was now well known thanks to the papers, and the fact that I was the sis- ter of the Queen of Trelandar. "In a duel that `shouldn't' have ever happened," she continued, no doubt knowing about the affair. We'd all been drinking, and the boys we were with had been eager to see women fight, to see some swordplay between Jani and me. I had not wished to fight her, but when she cut me, I slashed out with my blade, not thinking, and inflicted upon her a "death" I'd never wished to give. It had been my anger, my thoughtless act I felt that had taken her life, all because of our stupid dueling! "`Honor' is one thing, and `dueling' is another," I replied. To me there was no relationship despite whatever anyone claimed. One was either an "honorable" person or you weren't, and dueling had nothing to do with it so far as I could see here, the concept of dueling dating far back into Mankind's history... In the 20th Century it was outlawed as "uncivilized". Janet Rogers reintro- duced it in the 21st Century as a part of her NEW ORDER. A soci- ety whose cultural base laid in a "past" that perhaps never was. A society order designed by a woman who was a "misfit" in her own society, a woman who saw things differently than did anyone else. "You have killed people in battle?" Lana now ventured to me, no doubt knowing here what the answer would be. War in my opin- ion is more a matter of self defense, of defending one's country. "That's different," I retorted, uncomfortable with this. In battle you are killing "strangers", a nameless foe, the "enemy". It's more like hunting, fighting an animal that can attack you... Like meeting up with a dire wolf, a Tigon, or say a Garth here. You either kill them or they kill you. That's all combat is too. Kill or be killed. With whoever is the better "hunter" winning. "Skill" no doubt plays a part too, but less than you might think. "You are good with a sword?" she asked, her face only a pale shadow in the darkness, her attire only a darker shadow blending in with the darkness. The thought going through my mind that if we blackened our faces we'd be almost impossible to see at night. The thought now making me grin to myself as I realized it was the sort of a "thought" that a Warrioress might have. Thinking about how to kill others in combat while staying alive yourself here. How to use disguise, cover, the darkness of night as a "friend". "Upper ten percent of my class," I answered quickly back. I am a competent swordswoman, but that is about "all" I can claim. "I'm a Princess of Swords," she replied, "Which is `why' my husband married me," she added, "Although he prefers his slave to his wife," she continued on, leaving no doubts about things now. "We'd better get some sleep," I smiled, giving her a hug. It was chilly, the stars bright, the Moon soon to rise now too. "I hope someday we can truly be friends," she answered. "I too," I smiled back, wondering if I'd live to see it... "We are `caste sisters'," she continued as I opened the door into the kitchen. The others in the living room talking quietly. "I'm not of the Warrioresses," I answered. We did not share "caste" as such. I was a Scribe, she was a Warrioress. She wore the mark of the sword on her wrist. I did not. I was a civilian who fought because her country was invaded, not a "professional". "In your heart is burned the mark," Lana smiled back at me. I listened to the soft night sounds that came in through the partly open window, the measured breathing of my companions, the even breathing of my husband there beside me. Tomorrow we'd ride to the south, traveling through the foothills, watching for Impe- rial patrols, ready to fight our way through if such became nec- essary. Lady Lana was sleeping with Katherine, with only her word of honor as a bond. Marta had said that if she awoke with her throat slit she'd know just "who" to blame for trusting that Imperial. All three of us had lost loved ones to the Imperials, Marta a husband and baby son, Carl a wife and daughter, and me both my parents and a husband. All because of Darlanis' ambition to make herself into another "Janet Rogers", her delusions that I feared would eventually end in the destruction of us all here... Leaving both our countries in ruins, ripe pickings for Dularn or perhaps even the nomadic barbarians who lived across the Sierras. (the next morning) "Whatever happens, you have a `friend' here," Lady Lana said to me as I drew the girth tight around my dapple gray's belly, my mare shifting a bit, swishing her tail back and forth against the flies here in the barn. The sun rising up over the mountains to the east. Jerry at my side, Trouble sniffing at Lana's boots. I nodded, aware of Carl, Marta standing there listening to us, well aware that I no longer saw Lana as an "enemy", even if she served Darlanis and I served Paula. She had also given me certain mili- tary information that left no doubts as to her "sympathies" here. Information that could have cost Lana her life had Tara learned. "Just remember what I told you," I warned, seeing her nod. "I'll be careful," Lana smiled, standing there before me. "It is called `aiding and abetting the enemy'," I warned. "And I am a `legitimate' target of your forces," she noted. I had "forces" of my own operating somewhere in this area of Tre- landar, and they would kill this lovely woman and be proud to do. And if I warned them not to touch her, then word would eventually reach the ears of Tara or Darlanis and they would execute Lana as a traitor. Just as we executed traitors to our own cause here... I didn't much envy the Lady Lana Daris, a woman who was by birth a Trelandarian, but who was by marriage now serving the Empire... "I'm going back, check our back trail," Marta spoke, turning her unicorn, her bow strung, arrows in her quiver at her saddle. It was now the middle of the day, Jerry quiet as he clung to me, Trouble running along at our side, the short legged Boston being able to keep up as long as we didn't trot our mounts here for any period of time. Otherwise the dog would have to be carried in a sack I'd brought for that purpose, with just his head stuck out. "We'll `halt' here, move our mounts into the brush," I said, turning my unicorn, Trouble running ahead of us into the woods. I didn't believe that Lana would betray us, but Imperial patrols were known to follow any "fresh" trail they found, a tactic I'd encountered before, which is why I used the "tactics" that I did. The element of surprise having been so far enough to win the day, especially against Darlanis' "second line" troops, which is what we faced here, not her "first line" which faced our own lines... "At least its a nice day," Carl said to me as we dismounted and led our unicorns into the brush where they would be hard to spot by riders on the trail. My greatest fear here was dogs, but so far the Imperials hadn't considered using animals, perhaps due to the fact that it is difficult to train a dog not to go chasing after a deer when one jumps out in front of you... The sunlight peeking down from between these moving boughs up overhead, moving fluffy white clouds drifting across the azure blue, the soft and soothing rustle of the leaves pleasing to the ear. It was "warm" enough that there was no need for a jacket, although the night I knew would be an entirely different matter at this time of year. "Trouble!" Jerry called, the Boston now dashing off, my son running after the dog, forcing me to get up and follow him here. Afraid he might get lost in these woods chasing after the dog. A dog who I think he loved more than he did me, as boys often do. "Jerry!!" I breathed, trotting, the dog suddenly barking. "Mommy!" Jerry cried, hearing too those horrid snarls then! "Run back to Carl and Marta!!!" I snapped, now catching him. Trouble barking in a series of sharp barks, obviously harassing a beast of some sort, and I shuddered at the sounds that came to my ears, aware that only one animal makes such "sounds", a GARTH!!! "I'll get Trouble!" I told him, shaking him, his eyes dark pools. His hair loose, tangled, in need of cutting, just a boy of five. The sharp barking of the dog and the answering deep hissing roars of the beast the Boston Terrier was annoying leaving no doubts... "I'll... I'll get you your bow!" Jerry said, turning, run- ning back to the others. Trouble obviously able to keep his dis- tance from the horrid reptile, a creature like some dinosaur from the distant past. A sort of a "miniature" Tyrannosaurus Rex... 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 Five "A lovely night," Lady Lana smiled to me as we stood behind the house, the stars shining down upon us, Mars bright in the sky there to the south. It was a bit "chill", but such is to be ex- pected at this time of the year. Nothing of course like Dularn, where it snows in the winter, where smaller lakes do freeze over. The climate having changed from what it was before The War here. "I wish you weren't an `enemy'," I said, looking at her. "I keep wondering what I'd do in your place," she said. "You'd fight just like I have," I said, sensing her nod. "It is said that you do not bear the mark," she answered. "I do not believe in `dueling'," I answered in level tones. "Because of that classmate you killed," Lana said, touching my arm, standing there, her eyes dark pools in the starlight now. I supposed she would have known about it, as the incident was now well known thanks to the papers, and the fact that I was the sis- ter of the Queen of Trelandar. "In a duel that `shouldn't' have ever happened," she continued, no doubt knowing about the affair. We'd all been drinking, and the boys we were with had been eager to see women fight, to see some swordplay between Jani and me. I had not wished to fight her, but when she cut me, I slashed out with my blade, not thinking, and inflicted upon her a "death" I'd never wished to give. It had been my anger, my thoughtless act I felt that had taken her life, all because of our stupid dueling! "`Honor' is one thing, and `dueling' is another," I replied. To me there was no relationship despite whatever anyone claimed. One was either an "honorable" person or you weren't, and dueling had nothing to do with it so far as I could see here, the concept of dueling dating far back into Mankind's history... In the 20th Century it was outlawed as "uncivilized". Janet Rogers reintro- duced it in the 21st Century as a part of her NEW ORDER. A soci- ety whose cultural base laid in a "past" that perhaps never was. A society order designed by a woman who was a "misfit" in her own society, a woman who saw things differently than did anyone else. "You have killed people in battle?" Lana now ventured to me, no doubt knowing here what the answer would be. War in my opin- ion is more a matter of self defense, of defending one's country. "That's different," I retorted, uncomfortable with this. In battle you are killing "strangers", a nameless foe, the "enemy". It's more like hunting, fighting an animal that can attack you... Like meeting up with a dire wolf, a Tigon, or say a Garth here. You either kill them or they kill you. That's all combat is too. Kill or be killed. With whoever is the better "hunter" winning. "Skill" no doubt plays a part too, but less than you might think. "You are good with a sword?" she asked, her face only a pale shadow in the darkness, her attire only a darker shadow blending in with the darkness. The thought going through my mind that if we blackened our faces we'd be almost impossible to see at night. The thought now making me grin to myself as I realized it was the sort of a "thought" that a Warrioress might have. Thinking about how to kill others in combat while staying alive yourself here. How to use disguise, cover, the darkness of night as a "friend". "Upper ten percent of my class," I answered quickly back. I am a competent swordswoman, but that is about "all" I can claim. "I'm a Princess of Swords," she replied, "Which is `why' my husband married me," she added, "Although he prefers his slave to his wife," she continued on, leaving no doubts about things now. "We'd better get some sleep," I smiled, giving her a hug. It was chilly, the stars bright, the Moon soon to rise now too. "I hope someday we can truly be friends," she answered. "I too," I smiled back, wondering if I'd live to see it... "We are `caste sisters'," she continued as I opened the door into the kitchen. The others in the living room talking quietly. "I'm not of the Warrioresses," I answered. We did not share "caste" as such. I was a Scribe, she was a Warrioress. She wore the mark of the sword on her wrist. I did not. I was a civilian who fought because her country was invaded, not a "professional". "In your heart is burned the mark," Lana smiled back at me. I listened to the soft night sounds that came in through the partly open window, the measured breathing of my companions, the even breathing of my husband there beside me. Tomorrow we'd ride to the south, traveling through the foothills, watching for Impe- rial patrols, ready to fight our way through if such became nec- essary. Lady Lana was sleeping with Katherine, with only her word of honor as a bond. Marta had said that if she awoke with her throat slit she'd know just "who" to blame for trusting that Imperial. All three of us had lost loved ones to the Imperials, Marta a husband and baby son, Carl a wife and daughter, and me both my parents and a husband. All because of Darlanis' ambition to make herself into another "Janet Rogers", her delusions that I feared would eventually end in the destruction of us all here... Leaving both our countries in ruins, ripe pickings for Dularn or perhaps even the nomadic barbarians who lived across the Sierras. (the next morning) "Whatever happens, you have a `friend' here," Lady Lana said to me as I drew the girth tight around my dapple gray's belly, my mare shifting a bit, swishing her tail back and forth against the flies here in the barn. The sun rising up over the mountains to the east. Jerry at my side, Trouble sniffing at Lana's boots. I nodded, aware of Carl, Marta standing there listening to us, well aware that I no longer saw Lana as an "enemy", even if she served Darlanis and I served Paula. She had also given me certain mili- tary information that left no doubts as to her "sympathies" here. Information that could have cost Lana her life had Tara learned. "Just remember what I told you," I warned, seeing her nod. "I'll be careful," Lana smiled, standing there before me. "It is called `aiding and abetting the enemy'," I warned. "And I am a `legitimate' target of your forces," she noted. I had "forces" of my own operating somewhere in this area of Tre- landar, and they would kill this lovely woman and be proud to do. And if I warned them not to touch her, then word would eventually reach the ears of Tara or Darlanis and they would execute Lana as a traitor. Just as we executed traitors to our own cause here... I didn't much envy the Lady Lana Daris, a woman who was by birth a Trelandarian, but who was by marriage now serving the Empire... "I'm going back, check our back trail," Marta spoke, turning her unicorn, her bow strung, arrows in her quiver at her saddle. It was now the middle of the day, Jerry quiet as he clung to me, Trouble running along at our side, the short legged Boston being able to keep up as long as we didn't trot our mounts here for any period of time. Otherwise the dog would have to be carried in a sack I'd brought for that purpose, with just his head stuck out. "We'll `halt' here, move our mounts into the brush," I said, turning my unicorn, Trouble running ahead of us into the woods. I didn't believe that Lana would betray us, but Imperial patrols were known to follow any "fresh" trail they found, a tactic I'd encountered before, which is why I used the "tactics" that I did. The element of surprise having been so far enough to win the day, especially against Darlanis' "second line" troops, which is what we faced here, not her "first line" which faced our own lines... "At least its a nice day," Carl said to me as we dismounted and led our unicorns into the brush where they would be hard to spot by riders on the trail. My greatest fear here was dogs, but so far the Imperials hadn't considered using animals, perhaps due to the fact that it is difficult to train a dog not to go chasing after a deer when one jumps out in front of you... The sunlight peeking down from between these moving boughs up overhead, moving fluffy white clouds drifting across the azure blue, the soft and soothing rustle of the leaves pleasing to the ear. It was "warm" enough that there was no need for a jacket, although the night I knew would be an entirely different matter at this time of year. "Trouble!" Jerry called, the Boston now dashing off, my son running after the dog, forcing me to get up and follow him here. Afraid he might get lost in these woods chasing after the dog. A dog who I think he loved more than he did me, as boys often do. "Jerry!!" I breathed, trotting, the dog suddenly barking. "Mommy!" Jerry cried, hearing too those horrid snarls then! "Run back to Carl and Marta!!!" I snapped, now catching him. Trouble barking in a series of sharp barks, obviously harassing a beast of some sort, and I shuddered at the sounds that came to my ears, aware that only one animal makes such "sounds", a GARTH!!! "I'll get Trouble!" I told him, shaking him, his eyes dark pools. His hair loose, tangled, in need of cutting, just a boy of five. The sharp barking of the dog and the answering deep hissing roars of the beast the Boston Terrier was annoying leaving no doubts... "I'll... I'll get you your bow!" Jerry said, turning, run- ning back to the others. Trouble obviously able to keep his dis- tance from the horrid reptile, a creature like some dinosaur from the distant past. A sort of a "miniature" Tyrannosaurus Rex... |
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