"FREE-52" - 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 Two "Is it possible?" Carl asked as we walked back to the manor house, the fresh grave there beside the house with its ankh draw- ing his notice just then, forcing me to explain Brian's death. I felt "odd", as if nothing was "real", as if this was all a dream! I knew of the great "silver bird" that had come flying out of a thunderstorm over Sarn a century ago, a "machine" of the past now somehow transported into our own era. It being known that one of the aftereffects of The War of 2047 had been warps in space time. "The ruins in the forest could have had `meaning' to her," I mused, recalling what I knew of Lorraine. There had been a Bob and Carol Simmons who had lived in the house, then after their death in 2033 the house had been purchased by Marcella Domino, a friend of Janet Rogers. She had been its last "legal" owner now. "The first officer tried to sabotage the Ronda," Carl spoke. Was it "possible" that Lorraine, in command of a vessel she would have had but little "understanding" of, put in here on the coast? Did she find the ruined house, she and Sharon Duval, to be sur- prised inside it by Lady Lana? According to the writings of Ja- net Rogers, who wrote much of Lorraine, the woman had been in the eyes of Janet at least the greatest fighting woman of all time!! And had the three Foresters of Lana's discovered Lorraine, was it possible that Lorraine killed the three of them without thinking? She would be like a wounded hunted animal, vicious almost beyond comprehension. Ready to kill anyone she thought wished her harm! Torn somehow from her own time to ours, she would be terrified of us, especially after what had happened on the Ronda, it being my belief that the captain had wished to enslave her step daughter. Such would have triggered off the "killing rage" that Janet had written about, turning Lorraine into the most fearsome of "preda- tors", her awesome intelligence and fighting ability like none no one had ever known. But yet she hadn't killed Lana, perhaps due to the fact that Lana was a woman, and also perhaps due to Lana's own skill with a sword being enough to hold Lorraine momentarily. "You said that Darlanis went tearing off after the Ronda," I said to Carl as we walked into the manor, the thought occurring to me that not all was lost, that Lana still lived if the prison- er of Lorraine, who doubtlessly here was fleeing towards Dularn. Lorraine wouldn't have "trusted" Lana, but she would have learned from the slave girls aboard the Ronda the political situation, it being without doubt that she would have seen Dularn as "safety"!* * I did not of course know about Princess Janis here. (Sanda) "I'm a Warrior, not a Scribe, but wouldn't Lorraine be just what Darlanis would need to make people submit to her Empire?" he asked, the living room showing the feminine touch of Lady Lana... A cold chill going over me at the thought. Lorraine was a legend in our time, a "combination" of George Washington, Jefferson, and everyone else. The woman who had altered the course of history! It would be like having to face Darlanis with Janet Rogers stand- ing at her side! Darlanis was Darlanis, but Lorraine Duval... The very thought frightened me. And Lorraine was one of the most intelligent women who had ever lived. A student of military his- tory, of tactics, of military strategy like none of her own time! "Darlanis is `incompetent', but Lorraine..." I breathed, the wind blowing the trees, a branch breaking off, hitting the manor. If Lorraine reached Dularn, it would be the "end" for Darlanis. For all her ambitions, her "claims" to be a second Janet Rogers. "If she has Lana..." Carl spoke, picking up a figure here. "She will not `trust' Lana," I said, my husband nodding. "She's not likely to `trust' Darlanis either," Carl said. I sat on the end of the dock, my feet in the water, Mischief at my side, the Boston now "mine" in a way since Jerry had left. She was not a "young" dog any more, even with the anti-aging drug the veterinarian had given her, but she was "company", and just now I needed companionship of a sort that only Mischief had here. The Boston Terrier sitting there beside me, warm and furry, her little black and white body bringing back memories of another... "Memories" of fifteen years, of battles fought, won, lost, of the eventual futility of my own attempt to "free" Trelandar. Now all was in the hands of Lys, in the decisions that a woman who should have been dead for six centuries would make. If Lorraine made it to Dularn, sailing a ship she would know little about, through waters controlled by the Empire of California, then there would be "hope" again. Lorraine would be like having Janet Rogers, like having George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, all the rest of them all rolled into one. She would be tall, stern featured, her eyes dark as coals, her hair perhaps even darker than my own was. And there could be no "doubt" she was the greatest swordswoman of all time, a woman who could face Darlanis in a duel and kill her! Due the nervous strain I'd been under the last couple weeks, Carl and I had suddenly found ourselves at odds over things that normally neither of us would have paid the least bit of notice... And that damn Maris Marn, so "golden", those eyes like emeralds, a face so patrician that you thought it was a Queen's, was again flirting with my husband, behaving like some "alleycat" in heat! My world was falling apart with Lana gone, with my concerns as to what Lorraine would "do", assuming Darlanis didn't get her first! "Troubles?" Sarah asked, walking out to me, little Mara at her side, forcing me to put a smile on my lips I didn't much feel just then. Whatever happened here now, I knew that Sarah would be safe, Phara having promised me to look after my daughter here. "Maris got her dress `dirty'," Mara ventured to me then, her dark eyes meeting mine. Her appearance so much like Sarah's at her age that one would have thought the two to be sisters here... This bringing up a horrifying thought that Mara could be Carl's daughter, not Lord Daris'! Lana was young, vital, and Carl was a handsome man, AND THE TWO OF THEM WERE TOGETHER A LOT WITHOUT ME! COULD MY HUSBAND HAVE BEEN LADY LANA'S LOVER ALL THESE YEARS NOW? "Grass stains," Sarah grinned, knowing the "implications". "Everything will turn out O.K. in the end," Carl said to me as we ate dinner together, Sarah sitting quietly eating her meal. My daughter's words coming back to me again as I looked at Carl. "You always did `like' blondes, didn't you?" I said to him. "Thinking of bleaching your hair again?" my husband asked. "You always liked Lady Lana a lot, didn't you?" I retorted. "What are you getting at?" Carl asked, Sarah listening now. "Not now, `later'," I said, telling Sarah to finish eating. "You're `breaking up' under the `strain' of all this," Carl said to me as we sat there with the dirty dishes between us both. I'd unburdened myself of all my pent up emotion, accusing him of taking Maris Marn into the woods and "using" her, of having been Lady Lana's lover for years, and the father of six year old Mara! "It's all TRUE, isn't IT!" I snapped back, tears coming now! "You've been betraying our marriage for years with Lana, and now with a damned slave slut who reminds you of your first wife!!" I screamed, sobbing, slamming my fist down on to the table! Smash- ing the plate beneath it, the blood coming, my hand cut, bleeding as I leaped to my feet, everything so blurred before by my tears! Carl getting up, coming for me, my fury burning hot as I struck at him, and then dashed sobbing from the kitchen, running out the door into the night, aware of nothing but how I'd been betrayed!! "I just hope `that' is what its supposed to be," Phara whis- pered to me as I stood there watching, the heavy trireme now put- ting down a boat as it exchanged a coded series of signals here. I was surprised to see such a vessel, a heavy first rate warship. "They have more to fear," I said, still yet "angry" at Carl. The night dark, cloudy, ideal for secret operations such as this. For landing supplies, weapons to a resistance movement, others of the "Free Trelandar Movement" here, although none knew I was the Lady Sanda, the most "wanted" woman in all of Trelandar here now! An officer jumping from the boat, taking the hand of a Peasant. Here we were all "equals", and one's caste meant next to nothing. The mosquitos were bad, keeping us all jumping, slapping at them. "Is there one who can carry a message to Lady Sanda?" the Dularnian asked, his uniform leaving few doubts as who he was. I quietly put my hand out, letting him now put the message into it. "Do you know anything about `Lorraine Duval'?" I asked then. "She is in the hands of Darlanis," he answered in tones that left no doubts that all was lost. "And our Princess is dead..." "Take me with you," I whispered, drawing him away a bit. I had nothing left to live for here, not after Carl's betrayal now. "I'm the Lady Sanda Harles," I breathed, throwing caution to the winds now. His sudden intake of breath leaving no doubts. "I'm not bad in bed either," I purred, pressing myself up against him. "Your throat is chained, and I am a man of honor," he said. 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 Two "Is it possible?" Carl asked as we walked back to the manor house, the fresh grave there beside the house with its ankh draw- ing his notice just then, forcing me to explain Brian's death. I felt "odd", as if nothing was "real", as if this was all a dream! I knew of the great "silver bird" that had come flying out of a thunderstorm over Sarn a century ago, a "machine" of the past now somehow transported into our own era. It being known that one of the aftereffects of The War of 2047 had been warps in space time. "The ruins in the forest could have had `meaning' to her," I mused, recalling what I knew of Lorraine. There had been a Bob and Carol Simmons who had lived in the house, then after their death in 2033 the house had been purchased by Marcella Domino, a friend of Janet Rogers. She had been its last "legal" owner now. "The first officer tried to sabotage the Ronda," Carl spoke. Was it "possible" that Lorraine, in command of a vessel she would have had but little "understanding" of, put in here on the coast? Did she find the ruined house, she and Sharon Duval, to be sur- prised inside it by Lady Lana? According to the writings of Ja- net Rogers, who wrote much of Lorraine, the woman had been in the eyes of Janet at least the greatest fighting woman of all time!! And had the three Foresters of Lana's discovered Lorraine, was it possible that Lorraine killed the three of them without thinking? She would be like a wounded hunted animal, vicious almost beyond comprehension. Ready to kill anyone she thought wished her harm! Torn somehow from her own time to ours, she would be terrified of us, especially after what had happened on the Ronda, it being my belief that the captain had wished to enslave her step daughter. Such would have triggered off the "killing rage" that Janet had written about, turning Lorraine into the most fearsome of "preda- tors", her awesome intelligence and fighting ability like none no one had ever known. But yet she hadn't killed Lana, perhaps due to the fact that Lana was a woman, and also perhaps due to Lana's own skill with a sword being enough to hold Lorraine momentarily. "You said that Darlanis went tearing off after the Ronda," I said to Carl as we walked into the manor, the thought occurring to me that not all was lost, that Lana still lived if the prison- er of Lorraine, who doubtlessly here was fleeing towards Dularn. Lorraine wouldn't have "trusted" Lana, but she would have learned from the slave girls aboard the Ronda the political situation, it being without doubt that she would have seen Dularn as "safety"!* * I did not of course know about Princess Janis here. (Sanda) "I'm a Warrior, not a Scribe, but wouldn't Lorraine be just what Darlanis would need to make people submit to her Empire?" he asked, the living room showing the feminine touch of Lady Lana... A cold chill going over me at the thought. Lorraine was a legend in our time, a "combination" of George Washington, Jefferson, and everyone else. The woman who had altered the course of history! It would be like having to face Darlanis with Janet Rogers stand- ing at her side! Darlanis was Darlanis, but Lorraine Duval... The very thought frightened me. And Lorraine was one of the most intelligent women who had ever lived. A student of military his- tory, of tactics, of military strategy like none of her own time! "Darlanis is `incompetent', but Lorraine..." I breathed, the wind blowing the trees, a branch breaking off, hitting the manor. If Lorraine reached Dularn, it would be the "end" for Darlanis. For all her ambitions, her "claims" to be a second Janet Rogers. "If she has Lana..." Carl spoke, picking up a figure here. "She will not `trust' Lana," I said, my husband nodding. "She's not likely to `trust' Darlanis either," Carl said. I sat on the end of the dock, my feet in the water, Mischief at my side, the Boston now "mine" in a way since Jerry had left. She was not a "young" dog any more, even with the anti-aging drug the veterinarian had given her, but she was "company", and just now I needed companionship of a sort that only Mischief had here. The Boston Terrier sitting there beside me, warm and furry, her little black and white body bringing back memories of another... "Memories" of fifteen years, of battles fought, won, lost, of the eventual futility of my own attempt to "free" Trelandar. Now all was in the hands of Lys, in the decisions that a woman who should have been dead for six centuries would make. If Lorraine made it to Dularn, sailing a ship she would know little about, through waters controlled by the Empire of California, then there would be "hope" again. Lorraine would be like having Janet Rogers, like having George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, all the rest of them all rolled into one. She would be tall, stern featured, her eyes dark as coals, her hair perhaps even darker than my own was. And there could be no "doubt" she was the greatest swordswoman of all time, a woman who could face Darlanis in a duel and kill her! Due the nervous strain I'd been under the last couple weeks, Carl and I had suddenly found ourselves at odds over things that normally neither of us would have paid the least bit of notice... And that damn Maris Marn, so "golden", those eyes like emeralds, a face so patrician that you thought it was a Queen's, was again flirting with my husband, behaving like some "alleycat" in heat! My world was falling apart with Lana gone, with my concerns as to what Lorraine would "do", assuming Darlanis didn't get her first! "Troubles?" Sarah asked, walking out to me, little Mara at her side, forcing me to put a smile on my lips I didn't much feel just then. Whatever happened here now, I knew that Sarah would be safe, Phara having promised me to look after my daughter here. "Maris got her dress `dirty'," Mara ventured to me then, her dark eyes meeting mine. Her appearance so much like Sarah's at her age that one would have thought the two to be sisters here... This bringing up a horrifying thought that Mara could be Carl's daughter, not Lord Daris'! Lana was young, vital, and Carl was a handsome man, AND THE TWO OF THEM WERE TOGETHER A LOT WITHOUT ME! COULD MY HUSBAND HAVE BEEN LADY LANA'S LOVER ALL THESE YEARS NOW? "Grass stains," Sarah grinned, knowing the "implications". "Everything will turn out O.K. in the end," Carl said to me as we ate dinner together, Sarah sitting quietly eating her meal. My daughter's words coming back to me again as I looked at Carl. "You always did `like' blondes, didn't you?" I said to him. "Thinking of bleaching your hair again?" my husband asked. "You always liked Lady Lana a lot, didn't you?" I retorted. "What are you getting at?" Carl asked, Sarah listening now. "Not now, `later'," I said, telling Sarah to finish eating. "You're `breaking up' under the `strain' of all this," Carl said to me as we sat there with the dirty dishes between us both. I'd unburdened myself of all my pent up emotion, accusing him of taking Maris Marn into the woods and "using" her, of having been Lady Lana's lover for years, and the father of six year old Mara! "It's all TRUE, isn't IT!" I snapped back, tears coming now! "You've been betraying our marriage for years with Lana, and now with a damned slave slut who reminds you of your first wife!!" I screamed, sobbing, slamming my fist down on to the table! Smash- ing the plate beneath it, the blood coming, my hand cut, bleeding as I leaped to my feet, everything so blurred before by my tears! Carl getting up, coming for me, my fury burning hot as I struck at him, and then dashed sobbing from the kitchen, running out the door into the night, aware of nothing but how I'd been betrayed!! "I just hope `that' is what its supposed to be," Phara whis- pered to me as I stood there watching, the heavy trireme now put- ting down a boat as it exchanged a coded series of signals here. I was surprised to see such a vessel, a heavy first rate warship. "They have more to fear," I said, still yet "angry" at Carl. The night dark, cloudy, ideal for secret operations such as this. For landing supplies, weapons to a resistance movement, others of the "Free Trelandar Movement" here, although none knew I was the Lady Sanda, the most "wanted" woman in all of Trelandar here now! An officer jumping from the boat, taking the hand of a Peasant. Here we were all "equals", and one's caste meant next to nothing. The mosquitos were bad, keeping us all jumping, slapping at them. "Is there one who can carry a message to Lady Sanda?" the Dularnian asked, his uniform leaving few doubts as who he was. I quietly put my hand out, letting him now put the message into it. "Do you know anything about `Lorraine Duval'?" I asked then. "She is in the hands of Darlanis," he answered in tones that left no doubts that all was lost. "And our Princess is dead..." "Take me with you," I whispered, drawing him away a bit. I had nothing left to live for here, not after Carl's betrayal now. "I'm the Lady Sanda Harles," I breathed, throwing caution to the winds now. His sudden intake of breath leaving no doubts. "I'm not bad in bed either," I purred, pressing myself up against him. "Your throat is chained, and I am a man of honor," he said. |
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