"2565-52" - читать интересную книгу автора (Warlady 1 - 2565 Ad Book 2)2565 A.D.! A TALE OF ADVENTURE IN THE SECOND DARK AGE OF MAN By Jerome B. Bigge Book Two Chapter Nine "You're in no condition to ride," Lady Tirana warned as San- da helped me get back up on the back of my big white unicorn. The animal the same one that I first saw that day now so long ago when I met Lady Lana there in the ruins of the Simmons' home..... "I'll take care of her," Sanda laughed, swinging up behind me, taking the reins from my bemused fingers. I had drunk deep of Lady Tirana's rotgut whiskey. Lady Tirana would bring over the two dire wolves in the morning. I had suggested that she wait until fairly late, say about "noon"! I didn't think that I would be rising very early. Not after everything that had hap- pened. Not after everything I had seen. Had allowed to occur... "You're good friend," I muttered, the alcohol taking effect. "The best any `Lady' could have," I told Sanda, holding her hand where she held me against herself. Her husband only a darker shadow there in the darkness of the night. Our mounts from time to time shied at unseen things that leaped away into the brush. Three of Lady Tirana's own men at arms were also riding with us. "You're very brave," Sanda said. "I wouldn't have had the guts to do `half' the things that you have." She knew much about me. About my adventures here in the 26th Century from the time I had flown through the "Gateway" until now. I had few secrets from her. She had few from me. We had become very close over the weeks that I had now lived on the estate. I supposed it was natural as she was the only well educated woman in my own employ. I had even ventured to once discuss with her the "advantages" of a "syndicalist" society over a "capitalist" one, I'll note here. This having been one of my latest "ideas" for "improving" things as we sat out on the veranda watching the Moon come up one night! "You'll find it's more a matter of doing what you have to do at the time and then later on realizing just how dangerous it was to `do' it," I mumbled in reply, glad for the saddle horn. My horned mount seemingly not as steady on his own feet as usual! My own thoughts blurred, confused. My memories all jumbled to- gether, those of the 20th Century mingled in with those of now.* * I have edited all my conversations with Sanda here so that they will make more sense to the reader. My own speech at this point being blurred and confused at times from what Sanda informs me. "I'd never be able to do what you have," Sanda spoke softly. "You'd find that when you've been told that your own daugh- ter is going to be sold as a slave girl that you can do more than you believed you could," I answered, remembering the fight there on the Ronda. That "epic" battle that still yet amazed everyone! I knew she had a daughter a couple years younger than Sharon or Gayle, a Scribe like herself. Sanda having refused to let her daughter Sara become a member of the Warrioress caste as her hus- band had wanted for fear that she would end up like her son there fighting and risking his life on the Dularnian front! Sanda hav- ing a low opinion of Darlanis and her ambitions to bring Dularn in as part of the Empire. She was also a member of the "Free Trelandar" political organization, which I feared would someday might get her into serious trouble with the Empire of California! I had once privately discussed the matter with her husband Carl, who said that he understood his wife's feelings even if he didn't agree with them. His concern was for her, fearing that I might discharge her from her position for her opinions about the issue. I had told him at the time that I shared to a certain ex- tent her own feelings about the war with Dularn, although I did- n't think that Darlanis was an evil person or a "waster of life"! "I think I understand," Sanda answered in a soft voice, giv- ing me an affectionate hug. "I would die for my Sara." I was well aware of the fact that I didn't smell very "Lady-like" just then, and that I wasn't anything but some drunken stinking bitch who had just seen something that would never leave her memories! "I'm going to pay you three crowns a month instead of two," I told her. She was worth it to me. I needed a "friend". She was. She put up with my "moods", my short temper, all the de- fects in my character that make me not the easiest person in the world to live with. I'm no "saint" either. I suspect it will be quite a number of reincarnations before I reach the purity of soul, the "goodness" to be allowed to finally "merge" with SHE. "Lorraine!" Gayle cried, leaping up from the chair where she had been sitting reading. She was of high caste and literate. I supposed she had learned something of what had happened to me. "It's a long time past your bedtime," I tried to smile, feeling love for this golden haired Dularnian who meant so much to me. I was tired, drunk, stinking from my dried sweat. Filled with memories that wouldn't go away. Disgusted with the world! "Yvette, pour a bath for your mistress and see that it is warm," Sanda ordered, Yvette hurrying to obey. Sanda had once whipped her. Yvette had a "healthy respect" for Mrs. Talen! Her husband had gone to check on our security. The men now posted. "They said that someone tried to kill you!" Gayle said, mov- ing into my arms as I held her to myself. I hoped she was hold- ing her breath as I stunk like a skunk just then. Little Mara asleep in her bed, fortunately having slept through the "fuss"! "I'm a tough old bitch," I smiled back. "It'll take more than one crossbowman to do me in," I told her in drunken tones. I did look "old", haggard from everything I had gone through. I appear like a woman near a century old by 26th Century standards. It does confuse people at times until they realize just what the anti-aging serums have done for us. Keeping us looking "young" almost to the end of our hundred and thirty year life spans! "How many of our people can read and write?" I asked Sanda as we shared a late breakfast the next morning. I looked like something "ridden hard and put away wet" as the Warriors say! I looked forward to seeing Lady Tirana and her two awesome beasts. It had been necessary to leave them with her as our unicorns were almost uncontrollable around the two gray furred giant wolves. "Those of the upper castes and the Dularnian slave girls," Sanda answered. Nearly all Dularnians are literate. Their own "caste" system is different than ours. Much more "democratic". "What about the blacksmith, the leather worker?" I asked. Sanda nodded in the negative. They were of low caste. Schools exist only for the wealthy. Those of high caste. In the eyes of the Scribe there was no need for those of low caste to be able to read and write. As a matter of fact I didn't think Darlanis would approve of such an idea anyway. I had mentioned it to her one time. She didn't seem very "interested" in the idea either! "Is there a law forbidding their education?" I asked, Gayle sitting there watching, keeping her thoughts to herself. She was from a society where literacy was taken almost for granted. One of the things that make Dularnians feel superior to other people. "You Californians have to keep your people `ignorant' so they can't rise up and rebel against your repressive social or- der!" Gayle suddenly burst out beside me, much to my surprise! I had forgotten that to her we were the "aggressors". The ones who had tried to conquer her "peace-loving" country and failed in the attempt! As a free woman she was of course entitled to her own opinions of the issue. I hadn't known she had such "opinions"! "I hate to say it, but she's probably got a `point' there," Sanda answered, much to my own surprise. This was turning out to be a day I'd remember! First Gayle, then Sanda had said things you never hear spoken except by "wild-eyed radicals" no one pays any attention to. I was glad Darlanis wasn't around. She would- n't have approved of either Gayle's or Sanda's opinions too much! "Is there a law against a public school open to all?" I said to Sanda, my question still not having been answered one way or another. Sanda was a Scribe, well read. She knew Imperial Law. Yvette refilled my coffee cup. I told her to refill Sanda's too. "There is a law that requires all schools to be licensed by the Crown," Sanda answered, searching her memories. Obviously I would have to have Darlanis' permission, and that wasn't likely! "What about the Priestesses of Lys?" Gayle then ventured. Their activities weren't subject to Darlanis' rule although I knew that they generally didn't "meddle" in political matters of any sort. They did hold religious classes in the teachings of Lys. Reading THE BOOK OF LYS to the children sent to them. Such was the duty of all parents. There is no "religious freedom" on the Earth any more although the Priestesses do "tolerate" the few atheists that pop up from time to time denying the realities of the existence of SHE, or "Lys" as SHE is better known to Mankind. "They usually concern themselves with the state of our `souls', not our intellectual knowledge," Sanda answered Gayle back. There was a hint of arrogance in Sanda's voice. It hadn't been that long ago that Gayle had been a collared slave girl. Gayle had even once been whipped by Sanda. Gayle was also from Dularn. Sanda had no love for Dularnians, even ones like Gayle! "I think I will pay a visit to the temple in Thistle," I in- terjected, not having cared that much for how Sanda had answered Gayle. I would see Lady Tirana first, get her opinion on the is- sue. Perhaps the Priestesses would be willing to run a system of public schools. It would be a good chance for them to teach the children of California and perhaps elsewhere the beautiful moral code that SHE had once tried to teach Humanity some twenty six hundred years ago. The moral code that had been so perverted by the Roman Catholic Church and Christianity in general in Her Name. Perhaps this time we might do just a bit better with it! 2565 A.D.! A TALE OF ADVENTURE IN THE SECOND DARK AGE OF MAN By Jerome B. Bigge Book Two Chapter Nine "You're in no condition to ride," Lady Tirana warned as San- da helped me get back up on the back of my big white unicorn. The animal the same one that I first saw that day now so long ago when I met Lady Lana there in the ruins of the Simmons' home..... "I'll take care of her," Sanda laughed, swinging up behind me, taking the reins from my bemused fingers. I had drunk deep of Lady Tirana's rotgut whiskey. Lady Tirana would bring over the two dire wolves in the morning. I had suggested that she wait until fairly late, say about "noon"! I didn't think that I would be rising very early. Not after everything that had hap- pened. Not after everything I had seen. Had allowed to occur... "You're good friend," I muttered, the alcohol taking effect. "The best any `Lady' could have," I told Sanda, holding her hand where she held me against herself. Her husband only a darker shadow there in the darkness of the night. Our mounts from time to time shied at unseen things that leaped away into the brush. Three of Lady Tirana's own men at arms were also riding with us. "You're very brave," Sanda said. "I wouldn't have had the guts to do `half' the things that you have." She knew much about me. About my adventures here in the 26th Century from the time I had flown through the "Gateway" until now. I had few secrets from her. She had few from me. We had become very close over the weeks that I had now lived on the estate. I supposed it was natural as she was the only well educated woman in my own employ. I had even ventured to once discuss with her the "advantages" of a "syndicalist" society over a "capitalist" one, I'll note here. This having been one of my latest "ideas" for "improving" things as we sat out on the veranda watching the Moon come up one night! "You'll find it's more a matter of doing what you have to do at the time and then later on realizing just how dangerous it was to `do' it," I mumbled in reply, glad for the saddle horn. My horned mount seemingly not as steady on his own feet as usual! My own thoughts blurred, confused. My memories all jumbled to- gether, those of the 20th Century mingled in with those of now.* * I have edited all my conversations with Sanda here so that they will make more sense to the reader. My own speech at this point being blurred and confused at times from what Sanda informs me. "I'd never be able to do what you have," Sanda spoke softly. "You'd find that when you've been told that your own daugh- ter is going to be sold as a slave girl that you can do more than you believed you could," I answered, remembering the fight there on the Ronda. That "epic" battle that still yet amazed everyone! I knew she had a daughter a couple years younger than Sharon or Gayle, a Scribe like herself. Sanda having refused to let her daughter Sara become a member of the Warrioress caste as her hus- band had wanted for fear that she would end up like her son there fighting and risking his life on the Dularnian front! Sanda hav- ing a low opinion of Darlanis and her ambitions to bring Dularn in as part of the Empire. She was also a member of the "Free Trelandar" political organization, which I feared would someday might get her into serious trouble with the Empire of California! I had once privately discussed the matter with her husband Carl, who said that he understood his wife's feelings even if he didn't agree with them. His concern was for her, fearing that I might discharge her from her position for her opinions about the issue. I had told him at the time that I shared to a certain ex- tent her own feelings about the war with Dularn, although I did- n't think that Darlanis was an evil person or a "waster of life"! "I think I understand," Sanda answered in a soft voice, giv- ing me an affectionate hug. "I would die for my Sara." I was well aware of the fact that I didn't smell very "Lady-like" just then, and that I wasn't anything but some drunken stinking bitch who had just seen something that would never leave her memories! "I'm going to pay you three crowns a month instead of two," I told her. She was worth it to me. I needed a "friend". She was. She put up with my "moods", my short temper, all the de- fects in my character that make me not the easiest person in the world to live with. I'm no "saint" either. I suspect it will be quite a number of reincarnations before I reach the purity of soul, the "goodness" to be allowed to finally "merge" with SHE. "Lorraine!" Gayle cried, leaping up from the chair where she had been sitting reading. She was of high caste and literate. I supposed she had learned something of what had happened to me. "It's a long time past your bedtime," I tried to smile, feeling love for this golden haired Dularnian who meant so much to me. I was tired, drunk, stinking from my dried sweat. Filled with memories that wouldn't go away. Disgusted with the world! "Yvette, pour a bath for your mistress and see that it is warm," Sanda ordered, Yvette hurrying to obey. Sanda had once whipped her. Yvette had a "healthy respect" for Mrs. Talen! Her husband had gone to check on our security. The men now posted. "They said that someone tried to kill you!" Gayle said, mov- ing into my arms as I held her to myself. I hoped she was hold- ing her breath as I stunk like a skunk just then. Little Mara asleep in her bed, fortunately having slept through the "fuss"! "I'm a tough old bitch," I smiled back. "It'll take more than one crossbowman to do me in," I told her in drunken tones. I did look "old", haggard from everything I had gone through. I appear like a woman near a century old by 26th Century standards. It does confuse people at times until they realize just what the anti-aging serums have done for us. Keeping us looking "young" almost to the end of our hundred and thirty year life spans! "How many of our people can read and write?" I asked Sanda as we shared a late breakfast the next morning. I looked like something "ridden hard and put away wet" as the Warriors say! I looked forward to seeing Lady Tirana and her two awesome beasts. It had been necessary to leave them with her as our unicorns were almost uncontrollable around the two gray furred giant wolves. "Those of the upper castes and the Dularnian slave girls," Sanda answered. Nearly all Dularnians are literate. Their own "caste" system is different than ours. Much more "democratic". "What about the blacksmith, the leather worker?" I asked. Sanda nodded in the negative. They were of low caste. Schools exist only for the wealthy. Those of high caste. In the eyes of the Scribe there was no need for those of low caste to be able to read and write. As a matter of fact I didn't think Darlanis would approve of such an idea anyway. I had mentioned it to her one time. She didn't seem very "interested" in the idea either! "Is there a law forbidding their education?" I asked, Gayle sitting there watching, keeping her thoughts to herself. She was from a society where literacy was taken almost for granted. One of the things that make Dularnians feel superior to other people. "You Californians have to keep your people `ignorant' so they can't rise up and rebel against your repressive social or- der!" Gayle suddenly burst out beside me, much to my surprise! I had forgotten that to her we were the "aggressors". The ones who had tried to conquer her "peace-loving" country and failed in the attempt! As a free woman she was of course entitled to her own opinions of the issue. I hadn't known she had such "opinions"! "I hate to say it, but she's probably got a `point' there," Sanda answered, much to my own surprise. This was turning out to be a day I'd remember! First Gayle, then Sanda had said things you never hear spoken except by "wild-eyed radicals" no one pays any attention to. I was glad Darlanis wasn't around. She would- n't have approved of either Gayle's or Sanda's opinions too much! "Is there a law against a public school open to all?" I said to Sanda, my question still not having been answered one way or another. Sanda was a Scribe, well read. She knew Imperial Law. Yvette refilled my coffee cup. I told her to refill Sanda's too. "There is a law that requires all schools to be licensed by the Crown," Sanda answered, searching her memories. Obviously I would have to have Darlanis' permission, and that wasn't likely! "What about the Priestesses of Lys?" Gayle then ventured. Their activities weren't subject to Darlanis' rule although I knew that they generally didn't "meddle" in political matters of any sort. They did hold religious classes in the teachings of Lys. Reading THE BOOK OF LYS to the children sent to them. Such was the duty of all parents. There is no "religious freedom" on the Earth any more although the Priestesses do "tolerate" the few atheists that pop up from time to time denying the realities of the existence of SHE, or "Lys" as SHE is better known to Mankind. "They usually concern themselves with the state of our `souls', not our intellectual knowledge," Sanda answered Gayle back. There was a hint of arrogance in Sanda's voice. It hadn't been that long ago that Gayle had been a collared slave girl. Gayle had even once been whipped by Sanda. Gayle was also from Dularn. Sanda had no love for Dularnians, even ones like Gayle! "I think I will pay a visit to the temple in Thistle," I in- terjected, not having cared that much for how Sanda had answered Gayle. I would see Lady Tirana first, get her opinion on the is- sue. Perhaps the Priestesses would be willing to run a system of public schools. It would be a good chance for them to teach the children of California and perhaps elsewhere the beautiful moral code that SHE had once tried to teach Humanity some twenty six hundred years ago. The moral code that had been so perverted by the Roman Catholic Church and Christianity in general in Her Name. Perhaps this time we might do just a bit better with it! |
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