"2565-55" - 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 Twelve "I'm glad I'm alive now," Sanda said to me as I stood there on the quarterdeck of my beautiful Squala, the black hull and the black flag with its double-barred cross flapping overhead making it all "mine". I felt "alive" again. In "control" of things. With a full crew I could take on nearly anything afloat and win. I could outrun anything I couldn't outfight. Even those big new Dularnian three masted schooners that were now starting to show up off our coast. One called the "North Wind" having given the honest merchants of California considerable trouble. Then there were the pirates of which I have already written. There was no lack of "prey" for the mighty Squala. I had painted the features of the giant shark on the ship. Making my superstitious crew mutter to themselves at sailing beneath the command of a "mad- woman" like me! All I needed was a privateering commission from Darlanis and I could go into "business" for myself. Driving the pirates from the seas and then perhaps teaching the Dularnians a few things about what it was like to have a ship like the Squala lurking off their own shores! It would be an excellent lesson! "Why's that?" I asked, giving her a smile. I could think of several nicer, more pleasant eras to live in than this one, al- though it did have its own "charms" once you got used to it. It did have Darlanis, and any era with her was certainly "special"! On the other hand there was a certain "lack" of "law and order"! "I think because you are here," Sanda smiled. "You're like no one I've ever met before." I supposed that it was possible. I am rather "unusual" in a lot of ways. My skill with a sword for one. I didn't see, however, why Sanda so admired me. I am not an easy person to live with. I make a fairly good wife, but the same can be said of a lot of women. I'm not "good looking", and even Jon has to admit that it is best that I do wear a veil. Lady Tirana came strolling up to me from below, giving me a smile as she leaned back against the rail. I smelled brandy on her breath. I wondered how long it would be before she became an alcoholic. She generally didn't drink enough to get really drunk, but she did drink on a pretty "regular" basis. She was my friend. We had shared our thoughts, our feelings with one anoth- er. Committed a horrible sin together that both of us would pay for in our own ways. I recalled the words of the High Priestess of Thistle. About the "cross" that she would have to "bear". I wondered if I would someday end up like her, with a bottle for a companion. I myself was drinking more than I ever did back in the 20th Century. I was still having nightmares about the cross- bowman. What I had watched Lady Tirana do to him. I wondered why we had bothered. We had not learned anything of any value! "This is fun!" Gayle exclaimed, jumping down from the rig- ging. Her skirt was "mini" length in the latest fashion, and when she climbed around overhead in the rigging one could see "more" than I liked having men see of a teenage delight like her! With her was Sara, Sanda's daughter, a pretty slender girl, dark haired, with deep dark eyes and a lovely mouth. She was fourteen, her body already showing the hint of glorious womanhood to come. Sanda had taken her into Thistle a few days ago and had her nipples pierced for clips, such being the feminine "rites of passage" here in the 26th Century. The dividing line between girlhood and womanhood. Bought her a razor and introduced her to the pleasures of "shaving" as we of the female sex often call it. "I bet we could sail to China in this!" little Mara added as she came running up, tugging at the hem of my dress. Delilah sitting there on the deck, not all at ease with so many people running about, although the crew very carefully gave her a very wide berth! "What's China like, Lorrainee?" Mara asked, slurring my name a bit as she often did. It is pronounced "Lorr-rain", but it is spelled like it would be pronounced "Lorr-rain-e". "We'd have to get permission from the Lorr," I explained. Whether or not the Squala was capable of such a voyage was anoth- er question, although Yvette's original French master had crossed the Atlantic in a vessel not dissimilar to a ship like the Ronda. "You, you up there on the mainmast with the fancy knife!" I snapped through my brass trumpet. "Buckle your safety strap!" I was always amazed at the risks some men took. The masts of the Squala tower up far up into the sky. Any fall from them is fa- tal. The man in question clipping the safety strap to his har- ness and waving down to me. I was running the crew through drills to perfect their knowledge of the ship. I had only a doz- en men. Enough to sail the Squala, although I could not fight. The Squala perhaps looked "vicious" enough, but she was "tooth- less" until I got a proper crew. One that I could trust not to mutiny and try to take over the ship. That had already happened to one unlucky Californian privateer, whose ship now roamed our own coastlines flying the evil skull and crossbones of a pirate! "They're not the best, but prime seamen are hard to get," Carl Talen commented as I watched the men at work. I could use his "rough-necks" and clod-hoppers for pulling on ropes and such. A great deal of work on a sailing ship like the Squala is of that sort. The sails always need adjustment with the slightest change in the wind. You take in and let out sail, or ease the yards if you don't want to alter the amount of canvas you are carrying. I understood such things almost as if I had been sailing for years. It was a lot like the first I flew. The airplane and me seemed to be "one" with each other. The forces that held it up in the sky, allowed it to change course, all seemed so "simple" to me! I know of another with the same flying abilities. Abilities that saved my life when "The Princess of Darkness" tried to kill me! The reader will object here that I didn't seem to have my amazing ability working when I first came aboard the Ronda. That then I seemed pretty "incompetent" about sailing the Ronda. The Ronda however was lateen rigged, and tended to confuse me. Also, I spent considerable time on the Squala just walking the decks. Seeing the design of the yards, visualizing how everything worked together. I "understood" the Squala before I ever took her out! I also had the opportunity to watch Jers Bisan there on the Sea- hawk and captain Stone on Sarnian Lady. Janis earlier on the Ronda. I also learned a few things from others and did some reading in books that Sanda got me from the library in Thistle. "Sail Ho!" the man in the crows nest on top of the mainmast called down to me. His dizzy perch nearly ninety feet from the deck. Even I felt a bit "nervous" when I climbed up that high! "Where at?" I yelled up to him. The captain of a sailing ship needs good lungs. There is always the flap of sails, the splash of the waves against the hull, the creak of the rigging. "Straight Ahead!" he yelled down to me, Carl silently re- garding me. There were pirates in these waters. There is a big gap between my estates and Trella. Only a few fishing villages. "I'm going up," I said to Sanda, who nodded, her arm around her daughter. We couldn't fight off anything more than a long- boat filled with men. Only our speed protected us. Those three tall towering masts with their creamy sails that took the wind so nicely our only means of protection. Like a deer, we had nothing but our speed to protect us. While we were "faster" than most anything now afloat, the big new Dularnian "North" class schoon- ers were as fast as the Squala, and they carried full crews too! "Nice view up here," I said to the man, trying to keep my voice from showing the nervousness I felt from being so high up! "She's Dularnian," the man smiled, pointing with his tele- scope as I climbed up beside him. "One of their new ones." The topsails were quite visible from up here. The North Wind! One of Dularn's newest. Her captain, "Miles", was said to be one of the best. Another like Jon Richards. I nodded, thinking. I am of the Warrioresses. We hate running away from foes. Anytime! "If I wasn't married to Sanda here, I know whom I'd come courting!" Carl laughed as I told him my plans. Sanda smiling to herself. She was considerably more attractive than I am, al- though Jon says that I do have certain very desirable qualities! "Get those topsails set!" I yelled up to the sweating men now some sixty feet overhead. The tips of the Squala's masts reach up a full ninety feet into the sky. I had hoisted three smaller versions of the same flag that flew overhead. No harm in letting everyone know just who I was. That I was the Lady Lor- raine of Trelandar. I would also hoist the stunsails and stay- sails. The wind was light enough that Squala could carry all that canvas without harm. North Wind was now almost hull up over the horizon ahead. I wondered what her captain was thinking now. I thought briefly of the terrible weapon below that we carried. Only as a last resort would I ever use THAT! I had little desire to introduce the 26th Century to NAPALM bombs! To new horrors! "Sail Ho!" the look-out called down. "Another Bastard!" I had no doubt where his "sympathies" laid! That made a big dif- ference! I might "throw a scare" into the North Wind, but the second Dularnian would be sitting there waiting for me! And I had no chance in a ship to ship fight. Not with my tiny crew and Carl's half dozen land lubbering rough-necks! It was true that all of us were able to use weapons of some sort or another, but it really didn't alter things any. I had no doubt now that there was but one choice left open to me! To turn tail and run for it! "Dammit!" I snarled. "I'm not running!" The fury building in my body as I watched the North Wind come up over the horizon! Sanda looked justifiably nervous as she lifted the clay sphere from its padding, the contents the deadly NAPALM I had been able to manufacture using my now rusty knowledge of chemis- try. There was a small plug where the wick would go. Each sphere weighed close to thirty pounds. The range was not long. Ship's catapults are not designed for such heavy missiles, but I knew they would carry a hundred yards or so. I had fired one as a test from anchor, firing the thing from the ship to shore. The burned patch nearly thirty feet across had left few doubts as to their effectiveness. It was a terrible weapon. One against which there was no known defense for wooden ships. With better catapults one ship, either Californian or Dularnian, could burn the navies of every nation on the western coast of the entire Pa- cific! It was the "ATOMIC BOMB" of the 26th Century! Darlanis would have no doubt been delighted with it, but I was the only one who knew the secret, and not even Sanda or Carl knew the ex- act chemical processes necessary for the manufacture of NAPALM! "Those violate the Caste Codes," Carl warned as he saw Sanda and me each carry one of the bright red spheres up on deck. He had watched me fire the one I had shot off as a test. Saw what it could do. One direct hit and any wooden ship would be doomed! "I'll let Lys be the judge of that," I answered, carefully setting the thing down next to a catapult. I had no intention of using the weapon except as a last resort. Sanda standing up, her eyes smiling into mine. She was of the Scribes, not the Warrio- resses. Her Caste Codes were different. I saw Lady Tirana frown as she regarded me. She was of the Warrioresses. The use of fire at sea is generally forbidden by our Caste Codes. I did not think that such ideals, as good as they might be, really made any sense. War should be as terrible as possible. Only in that way can there be true peace. That was proven back in the 20th Cen- tury with our own thermonuclear weapons. Make the weapons "bad" enough, and then maybe people will resolve their differences without resorting to weapons. Of course they once said that about the crossbow and the first guns, but I do think it is true. "The Second Enemy Has Square Sails!" the lookout called down. "Oh God! The Janis!" I muttered to myself. I could see in my own instant nightmare the Janis in flames, the burning hot liquid searing, burning as it ran down among the oarsmen. A gal- ley is terribly vulnerable to a weapon like mine. Even more so than a fully decked schooner. There would be no chance for them! I glanced up at the sails, the Squala tearing through the water now like an enraged beast. I thought of the face of the great shark painted there across her bows. To those of the North Wind she must have been a terrible sight, especially through a telescope where one could see the painted jaws, the teeth clear! "We're committed now," I answered in level tones. "May Lys have mercy upon us all." Gayle nodded as her eyes met mine. Why had I taken her on this voyage? I saw Carl put his arm around his wife. She was a lovely woman. Too young to die like this! 2565 A.D.! A TALE OF ADVENTURE IN THE SECOND DARK AGE OF MAN By Jerome B. Bigge Book Two Chapter Twelve "I'm glad I'm alive now," Sanda said to me as I stood there on the quarterdeck of my beautiful Squala, the black hull and the black flag with its double-barred cross flapping overhead making it all "mine". I felt "alive" again. In "control" of things. With a full crew I could take on nearly anything afloat and win. I could outrun anything I couldn't outfight. Even those big new Dularnian three masted schooners that were now starting to show up off our coast. One called the "North Wind" having given the honest merchants of California considerable trouble. Then there were the pirates of which I have already written. There was no lack of "prey" for the mighty Squala. I had painted the features of the giant shark on the ship. Making my superstitious crew mutter to themselves at sailing beneath the command of a "mad- woman" like me! All I needed was a privateering commission from Darlanis and I could go into "business" for myself. Driving the pirates from the seas and then perhaps teaching the Dularnians a few things about what it was like to have a ship like the Squala lurking off their own shores! It would be an excellent lesson! "Why's that?" I asked, giving her a smile. I could think of several nicer, more pleasant eras to live in than this one, al- though it did have its own "charms" once you got used to it. It did have Darlanis, and any era with her was certainly "special"! On the other hand there was a certain "lack" of "law and order"! "I think because you are here," Sanda smiled. "You're like no one I've ever met before." I supposed that it was possible. I am rather "unusual" in a lot of ways. My skill with a sword for one. I didn't see, however, why Sanda so admired me. I am not an easy person to live with. I make a fairly good wife, but the same can be said of a lot of women. I'm not "good looking", and even Jon has to admit that it is best that I do wear a veil. Lady Tirana came strolling up to me from below, giving me a smile as she leaned back against the rail. I smelled brandy on her breath. I wondered how long it would be before she became an alcoholic. She generally didn't drink enough to get really drunk, but she did drink on a pretty "regular" basis. She was my friend. We had shared our thoughts, our feelings with one anoth- er. Committed a horrible sin together that both of us would pay for in our own ways. I recalled the words of the High Priestess of Thistle. About the "cross" that she would have to "bear". I wondered if I would someday end up like her, with a bottle for a companion. I myself was drinking more than I ever did back in the 20th Century. I was still having nightmares about the cross- bowman. What I had watched Lady Tirana do to him. I wondered why we had bothered. We had not learned anything of any value! "This is fun!" Gayle exclaimed, jumping down from the rig- ging. Her skirt was "mini" length in the latest fashion, and when she climbed around overhead in the rigging one could see "more" than I liked having men see of a teenage delight like her! With her was Sara, Sanda's daughter, a pretty slender girl, dark haired, with deep dark eyes and a lovely mouth. She was fourteen, her body already showing the hint of glorious womanhood to come. Sanda had taken her into Thistle a few days ago and had her nipples pierced for clips, such being the feminine "rites of passage" here in the 26th Century. The dividing line between girlhood and womanhood. Bought her a razor and introduced her to the pleasures of "shaving" as we of the female sex often call it. "I bet we could sail to China in this!" little Mara added as she came running up, tugging at the hem of my dress. Delilah sitting there on the deck, not all at ease with so many people running about, although the crew very carefully gave her a very wide berth! "What's China like, Lorrainee?" Mara asked, slurring my name a bit as she often did. It is pronounced "Lorr-rain", but it is spelled like it would be pronounced "Lorr-rain-e". "We'd have to get permission from the Lorr," I explained. Whether or not the Squala was capable of such a voyage was anoth- er question, although Yvette's original French master had crossed the Atlantic in a vessel not dissimilar to a ship like the Ronda. "You, you up there on the mainmast with the fancy knife!" I snapped through my brass trumpet. "Buckle your safety strap!" I was always amazed at the risks some men took. The masts of the Squala tower up far up into the sky. Any fall from them is fa- tal. The man in question clipping the safety strap to his har- ness and waving down to me. I was running the crew through drills to perfect their knowledge of the ship. I had only a doz- en men. Enough to sail the Squala, although I could not fight. The Squala perhaps looked "vicious" enough, but she was "tooth- less" until I got a proper crew. One that I could trust not to mutiny and try to take over the ship. That had already happened to one unlucky Californian privateer, whose ship now roamed our own coastlines flying the evil skull and crossbones of a pirate! "They're not the best, but prime seamen are hard to get," Carl Talen commented as I watched the men at work. I could use his "rough-necks" and clod-hoppers for pulling on ropes and such. A great deal of work on a sailing ship like the Squala is of that sort. The sails always need adjustment with the slightest change in the wind. You take in and let out sail, or ease the yards if you don't want to alter the amount of canvas you are carrying. I understood such things almost as if I had been sailing for years. It was a lot like the first I flew. The airplane and me seemed to be "one" with each other. The forces that held it up in the sky, allowed it to change course, all seemed so "simple" to me! I know of another with the same flying abilities. Abilities that saved my life when "The Princess of Darkness" tried to kill me! The reader will object here that I didn't seem to have my amazing ability working when I first came aboard the Ronda. That then I seemed pretty "incompetent" about sailing the Ronda. The Ronda however was lateen rigged, and tended to confuse me. Also, I spent considerable time on the Squala just walking the decks. Seeing the design of the yards, visualizing how everything worked together. I "understood" the Squala before I ever took her out! I also had the opportunity to watch Jers Bisan there on the Sea- hawk and captain Stone on Sarnian Lady. Janis earlier on the Ronda. I also learned a few things from others and did some reading in books that Sanda got me from the library in Thistle. "Sail Ho!" the man in the crows nest on top of the mainmast called down to me. His dizzy perch nearly ninety feet from the deck. Even I felt a bit "nervous" when I climbed up that high! "Where at?" I yelled up to him. The captain of a sailing ship needs good lungs. There is always the flap of sails, the splash of the waves against the hull, the creak of the rigging. "Straight Ahead!" he yelled down to me, Carl silently re- garding me. There were pirates in these waters. There is a big gap between my estates and Trella. Only a few fishing villages. "I'm going up," I said to Sanda, who nodded, her arm around her daughter. We couldn't fight off anything more than a long- boat filled with men. Only our speed protected us. Those three tall towering masts with their creamy sails that took the wind so nicely our only means of protection. Like a deer, we had nothing but our speed to protect us. While we were "faster" than most anything now afloat, the big new Dularnian "North" class schoon- ers were as fast as the Squala, and they carried full crews too! "Nice view up here," I said to the man, trying to keep my voice from showing the nervousness I felt from being so high up! "She's Dularnian," the man smiled, pointing with his tele- scope as I climbed up beside him. "One of their new ones." The topsails were quite visible from up here. The North Wind! One of Dularn's newest. Her captain, "Miles", was said to be one of the best. Another like Jon Richards. I nodded, thinking. I am of the Warrioresses. We hate running away from foes. Anytime! "If I wasn't married to Sanda here, I know whom I'd come courting!" Carl laughed as I told him my plans. Sanda smiling to herself. She was considerably more attractive than I am, al- though Jon says that I do have certain very desirable qualities! "Get those topsails set!" I yelled up to the sweating men now some sixty feet overhead. The tips of the Squala's masts reach up a full ninety feet into the sky. I had hoisted three smaller versions of the same flag that flew overhead. No harm in letting everyone know just who I was. That I was the Lady Lor- raine of Trelandar. I would also hoist the stunsails and stay- sails. The wind was light enough that Squala could carry all that canvas without harm. North Wind was now almost hull up over the horizon ahead. I wondered what her captain was thinking now. I thought briefly of the terrible weapon below that we carried. Only as a last resort would I ever use THAT! I had little desire to introduce the 26th Century to NAPALM bombs! To new horrors! "Sail Ho!" the look-out called down. "Another Bastard!" I had no doubt where his "sympathies" laid! That made a big dif- ference! I might "throw a scare" into the North Wind, but the second Dularnian would be sitting there waiting for me! And I had no chance in a ship to ship fight. Not with my tiny crew and Carl's half dozen land lubbering rough-necks! It was true that all of us were able to use weapons of some sort or another, but it really didn't alter things any. I had no doubt now that there was but one choice left open to me! To turn tail and run for it! "Dammit!" I snarled. "I'm not running!" The fury building in my body as I watched the North Wind come up over the horizon! Sanda looked justifiably nervous as she lifted the clay sphere from its padding, the contents the deadly NAPALM I had been able to manufacture using my now rusty knowledge of chemis- try. There was a small plug where the wick would go. Each sphere weighed close to thirty pounds. The range was not long. Ship's catapults are not designed for such heavy missiles, but I knew they would carry a hundred yards or so. I had fired one as a test from anchor, firing the thing from the ship to shore. The burned patch nearly thirty feet across had left few doubts as to their effectiveness. It was a terrible weapon. One against which there was no known defense for wooden ships. With better catapults one ship, either Californian or Dularnian, could burn the navies of every nation on the western coast of the entire Pa- cific! It was the "ATOMIC BOMB" of the 26th Century! Darlanis would have no doubt been delighted with it, but I was the only one who knew the secret, and not even Sanda or Carl knew the ex- act chemical processes necessary for the manufacture of NAPALM! "Those violate the Caste Codes," Carl warned as he saw Sanda and me each carry one of the bright red spheres up on deck. He had watched me fire the one I had shot off as a test. Saw what it could do. One direct hit and any wooden ship would be doomed! "I'll let Lys be the judge of that," I answered, carefully setting the thing down next to a catapult. I had no intention of using the weapon except as a last resort. Sanda standing up, her eyes smiling into mine. She was of the Scribes, not the Warrio- resses. Her Caste Codes were different. I saw Lady Tirana frown as she regarded me. She was of the Warrioresses. The use of fire at sea is generally forbidden by our Caste Codes. I did not think that such ideals, as good as they might be, really made any sense. War should be as terrible as possible. Only in that way can there be true peace. That was proven back in the 20th Cen- tury with our own thermonuclear weapons. Make the weapons "bad" enough, and then maybe people will resolve their differences without resorting to weapons. Of course they once said that about the crossbow and the first guns, but I do think it is true. "The Second Enemy Has Square Sails!" the lookout called down. "Oh God! The Janis!" I muttered to myself. I could see in my own instant nightmare the Janis in flames, the burning hot liquid searing, burning as it ran down among the oarsmen. A gal- ley is terribly vulnerable to a weapon like mine. Even more so than a fully decked schooner. There would be no chance for them! I glanced up at the sails, the Squala tearing through the water now like an enraged beast. I thought of the face of the great shark painted there across her bows. To those of the North Wind she must have been a terrible sight, especially through a telescope where one could see the painted jaws, the teeth clear! "We're committed now," I answered in level tones. "May Lys have mercy upon us all." Gayle nodded as her eyes met mine. Why had I taken her on this voyage? I saw Carl put his arm around his wife. She was a lovely woman. Too young to die like this! |
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