"FREE-54" - 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 Fifty Four "And that was your first impression of Lorraine," Jon said as he set down the manuscript I'd written now so many years ago. "I remember `her' standing there, the sun glittering off the water, the smell of the ocean, people shuffling around in the boat, the Squala out there at anchor, just as it was yesterday." "Let's take a walk," Jon suggested, the sun now setting. "It was `here'," I said, standing on the dock, the dock it- self not the same one, as that had been burned back in 2567 here. But the position in relation to the water was the same, and in my mind's eye I could still see the Squala, now only a memory, there at anchor. See the other ships, Seahawk, Sarnian Lady, the fat merchantmen that had been escorted by her and another trireme... Lorraine standing there on the dock in silk and leather, veiled, the sunlight glinting off her hair. Her eyes like coals as she lifts her veil. Eyes that seemed to see right into my very soul. "There's a ship coming in this way," Jon said, breaking into my train of thought, my memories of a time now fifty six years in the past. Of a woman whose last remains now laid buried on this very estate. A woman who had been truly a living legend, a woman born in the year 1949, and who had died here in the year 2621. A woman whose name would live in the memory of Mankind forever, one who had in her own lifetime changed the course of human history. "Steam frigate," I answered, seeing the smoke. I had to use glasses for close work, but I still could see well at a distance. "Dulie from the looks of her," Jon grinned back at me then. "It's been a long time," Queen Maris smiled as she took my hand and stepped up on to the dock, the sunset beautiful, the red and orange lighting up the sky, the ocean reflecting its beauty. She was no longer a young woman, widowed these many years, Prince Paul, her husband, having died in battle against an invading army from across the Rockies, her daughter soon to leave for Mars now. We were a dying civilization, living on memories, awaiting death while our children made a home for themselves on another world. "She died as she would have so wished it," I said to Maris. "She was a `Warlady', but she brought us `peace'," Maris an- swered, taking Jon's hand in hers. A thought now going through my mind that once long ago this very same woman and Jon had been lovers, just as she'd once too been Carl's mistress so long ago. I watched Maris Marn (she had kept her maiden name) kneel down at Lorraine's grave and say a brief prayer for the soul of the famous Queen and Warlady, one who I was sure Lys would gather up into her arms when her soul stood before Her for judgment. Jon putting his arm around me, holding me close as Maris prayed. My eyes moist with tears as the memories now came flooding back. "I will be Dularn's last Queen," Maris said to us as we sat there in the living room sharing drinks, the room in its way yet reflecting the taste of the woman whose body laid buried outside. "Let those who are `young' go to Mars," she spoke, seeing us nod. "And in their books they will read of those who once lived," Jon said, perhaps thinking here of Lorraine, of others we'd once known. Of Darlanis, tall and golden, like a goddess from a time of myth. Of brave men and women who had stood in battle. Mars, despite its name, was a peaceful world, a world without nations, without wars, even without the sort of violence we still knew... And with this I will close my story, hoping the reader has not been too "disappointed" with me, with what I've written here. There are of course "unsolved mysteries", such as just "who" was Mara's father, but such things only those long dead could answer. Jon and I will live out our lives here, translating the writings of Lorraine, seeing that her thoughts are published, transmitted to Mars so that they may survive the end of our own green Earth. (Sanda) Freedom Fighters of Trelandar A Tale of Adventure in the Second Dark Age Book Nine of the Warlady Series By Jerome B. Bigge Chapter Fifty Four "And that was your first impression of Lorraine," Jon said as he set down the manuscript I'd written now so many years ago. "I remember `her' standing there, the sun glittering off the water, the smell of the ocean, people shuffling around in the boat, the Squala out there at anchor, just as it was yesterday." "Let's take a walk," Jon suggested, the sun now setting. "It was `here'," I said, standing on the dock, the dock it- self not the same one, as that had been burned back in 2567 here. But the position in relation to the water was the same, and in my mind's eye I could still see the Squala, now only a memory, there at anchor. See the other ships, Seahawk, Sarnian Lady, the fat merchantmen that had been escorted by her and another trireme... Lorraine standing there on the dock in silk and leather, veiled, the sunlight glinting off her hair. Her eyes like coals as she lifts her veil. Eyes that seemed to see right into my very soul. "There's a ship coming in this way," Jon said, breaking into my train of thought, my memories of a time now fifty six years in the past. Of a woman whose last remains now laid buried on this very estate. A woman who had been truly a living legend, a woman born in the year 1949, and who had died here in the year 2621. A woman whose name would live in the memory of Mankind forever, one who had in her own lifetime changed the course of human history. "Steam frigate," I answered, seeing the smoke. I had to use glasses for close work, but I still could see well at a distance. "Dulie from the looks of her," Jon grinned back at me then. "It's been a long time," Queen Maris smiled as she took my hand and stepped up on to the dock, the sunset beautiful, the red and orange lighting up the sky, the ocean reflecting its beauty. She was no longer a young woman, widowed these many years, Prince Paul, her husband, having died in battle against an invading army from across the Rockies, her daughter soon to leave for Mars now. We were a dying civilization, living on memories, awaiting death while our children made a home for themselves on another world. "She died as she would have so wished it," I said to Maris. "She was a `Warlady', but she brought us `peace'," Maris an- swered, taking Jon's hand in hers. A thought now going through my mind that once long ago this very same woman and Jon had been lovers, just as she'd once too been Carl's mistress so long ago. I watched Maris Marn (she had kept her maiden name) kneel down at Lorraine's grave and say a brief prayer for the soul of the famous Queen and Warlady, one who I was sure Lys would gather up into her arms when her soul stood before Her for judgment. Jon putting his arm around me, holding me close as Maris prayed. My eyes moist with tears as the memories now came flooding back. "I will be Dularn's last Queen," Maris said to us as we sat there in the living room sharing drinks, the room in its way yet reflecting the taste of the woman whose body laid buried outside. "Let those who are `young' go to Mars," she spoke, seeing us nod. "And in their books they will read of those who once lived," Jon said, perhaps thinking here of Lorraine, of others we'd once known. Of Darlanis, tall and golden, like a goddess from a time of myth. Of brave men and women who had stood in battle. Mars, despite its name, was a peaceful world, a world without nations, without wars, even without the sort of violence we still knew... And with this I will close my story, hoping the reader has not been too "disappointed" with me, with what I've written here. There are of course "unsolved mysteries", such as just "who" was Mara's father, but such things only those long dead could answer. Jon and I will live out our lives here, translating the writings of Lorraine, seeing that her thoughts are published, transmitted to Mars so that they may survive the end of our own green Earth. (Sanda) |
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