"THE WARLADY OF DULARN"

2567 A.D.!

By Jerome Bigge

Chapter Forty Two

      Jon Richards silently watched his wife pacing the deck of the Athena, the crew, wise in her ways, giving her a wide berth. She was not a beautiful woman, but Jon loved her like no other. There was "something" about Lorraine he could never describe to any one else. A feeling that with her at your side nothing was impossible. She was "different" from his first wife, a Physician of Dularn, who had died at the hands of Imperial warriors under the command of that infamous Princess Tara of Baja. Lorraine was in a way a "Physician" too, although she considered herself more a "Warrioress", and wore the caste mark there on her left wrist. She was also a "Priestess" in a way, and knew much of things now forbidden to ordinary mortals. He believed she had been "touched" by LYS herself there on Mars, that what she had seen, experienced there on that arid almost airless world was "real"...

      He glanced up at the quarterdeck, at captain Janice Hill standing there talking to her first officer. Janice was a "com- petent" captain, although in battle he knew Lorraine would be in "command" totally, with Janice only serving to relay her orders. Lorraine was awesomely "competent", the greatest fighting woman of all time, many said. Jon tended to believe it, having seen his wife in "action". If it could be done, Lorraine could do it.

      The Athena was slow, almost like some bloated merchantman. Her heavy armor plate that rendered her almost invulnerable to conventional weapons also made her considerably "heavier" than a ship of the "Squala class", which she otherwise muchly resembled. Jon wondered again to himself if Lorraine really understood what it would be "like" to fight a ship like the North Star to a fin- ish under such conditions. The North Star would be "faster", and far more "handy" in battle than this "ironclad" of Lorraine's. There was a "blind spot" in Lorraine's thinking. A sort of in- tellectual arrogance that she knew "more" than anyone else alive. That was, he thought, perhaps the worst "flaw" in her character. He knew too that she considered herself "superior" to anyone of the 26th Century with the possible exception of the Priestesses.

      He watched Yvette Senchal now saunter across the deck, speak to Lorraine. The French slave girl's slim body briefly clad. The wench, despite her "abilities", had been something of a dis- appointment to him in bed after he'd "tasted" of Lorraine. For a woman who looked like she did, her "intimate performance" was something almost unbelievable. That was a "secret" he shared with no one, being well aware of what Lorraine would think of it!

      "We should be up to Sarn in another day," Lorraine smiled, walking up to him now. "Perhaps they will have news of the North Star," she added, giving him a smile. Her new "telegraph" al- lowed "news" to flow the length of the Empire in a single day... *****************************************************************

      "I plan to strike here," Maris Marn spoke, indicating a dot on the map there before her, glancing up at Sandi standing there. The location I understood was that of the largest slaver in Sarn. "There will be perhaps a hundred women if not more held slave".

      "My archers will provide a diversion while the ship attacks," Carol spoke. The tactics were the same as she had used against Lorraine's estates. I failed to see why we were risking our lives for slave girls although both Carol and Maris seemed to "understand" the reason why as did Sandi. I recalled what Carol had told me about Maris and the threat that had been made on her life for her stand against the wide spread enslavements of women. I wondered if we hadn't signed on a "Flying Dutchman" that could never go "home". I considered the possibility of Maris "losing" this conflict to Darlanis just over the issue of female slavery!!

      "Biggest problem is that we don't really know the lay out of the estate," I pointed out. Randomly firing broadsides into the darkness could endanger everyone's lives without "fire control" from the shore. Then there was always the danger of running the ship aground on some sand bar if one got in too close to land...

      "A small fire control party could be landed," Carol spoke, her hazel eyes glowing into mine. One would need a lantern with a shutter, such being commonly used for signaling in the dark. "Say you with Sandi, Anis, La-ra and a couple men to row you in."

      "This is `important' to you, isn't it?" I said to my wife after the discussion was over and we'd left the stern cabin. I saw Carol nod, her hazel eyes holding mine. She had not been that badly "abused" there on Lorraine's estates, but she had well learned what it is like to be a slave girl here in this barbaric era. She had well paid the "price" for her sensual beauty too. For a woman of thirty eight Carol certainly didn't look her age!!

      "As it is to every woman on this ship who has ever felt the whip slash the tender skin of her back," Carol retorted in reply. "And Maris is the `one' woman of this era who `understands' too!" The "heat" of my brownette's words leaving no doubt as to her own "feelings" on this matter. I wondered what her reaction would be when we reached Dularn. Female slavery was commonplace in every country that I knew of. Only Maris of Dularn had ever dared to oppose it, and she had been almost driven from her own country!!!

      "A hundred more mouths to feed will stretch our food sup- plies to their limit," I pointed out. "Water could also be a problem," I added. Space below decks was another problem for us. The North Star was designed to carry a maximum of about ninety. Adding a hundred women, unused to the sea, to ships, would merely compound our problems. The area below decks already had that characteristic "odor" of confined womanhood. There had also been some "fights" between some of the men's wives and former slaves.

      "We'll be `home' in Dularn in a couple weeks," Carol spoke. The tone of her voice such that I knew I had indeed "touched" a sore spot with her. With this she strode off, leaving me stand- ing there, well aware of the fact that we'd just had a "spat"... *****************************************************************

      Darlanis regarded the Swiftstar lying there at the dock be- ing repaired, refitted, its ballistae and catapults now replaced. It was hot, the sun burning down from a pale blue sky overhead. She could feel the heat of it on her body, burning through the golden mesh lined with silk. She had heard the "whispers" spoken by those in the taverns, the smelly dives of this small seaport city in southern Sarn. She thought of Valerie Dunn, how she had died there right beside her on the forecastle of the Swiftstar... *****************************************************************

      "There is `tension' between you and your wife," Maris said to me as the last boat returned back to the ship. I nodded, not wishing to discuss such matters with Maris just then. I knew of Carol's beliefs, of the fact that she looked upon freeing slave girls as the sacred duty of one who had once felt the slave whip. It was a lovely night, the air soft, mild, a few stars peeking out from between the clouds. The Moon had gone down an hour ago. I'd watched Deimos pass over, the blot of light "slower" than the old satellites of my time, but somewhat brighter due to its size.

      "We have our `disagreements' like any married couple," I lied to the Queen of Dularn, her face and hair only pale shadows in the darkness. We showed no regular light, the gentle creak of the rigging, the roll of the ship beneath my feet familiar now...

      "I think it is more than that," Maris persisted, prodding at me in a way that I didn't much like just then. With anyone else I'd just told her to leave me alone, but I couldn't do that with the Queen of Dularn. "Your wife has impressed me as being a wom- an who is extremely level headed, a woman who knows the `meaning of life'," the golden haired Queen of Dularn now "continued" on.

      "This is not a `military objective'," I answered her back. "Liberating slave girls isn't going to win your war any quicker!" Maris' activities were more of an "annoyance" than anything else. She was as "likely" in my opinion to start a bigger war than to convince Darlanis to allow free elections in the disputed lands. Only the fact that the Empire was fighting a drawn out war with Mexico allowed Maris to do what she did without any retaliation.

      "I fight for `freedom', not military objectives," Maris an- swered. "I know what it is like to feel the whip, wear the col- lar of a slave girl," Maris Marn continued, sounding like Carol!

      "And if my Carol dies out there for your `ideals'?" I said.

      "There are causes worth fighting, dying for," she answered. "I believe `such' was `understood' even in your time," she said, walking off then, leaving me standing there with my thoughts...

      "You should take more than just a knife," I told La-ra, the Nevada wench almost invisible in her face paint and black attire. We could see the light of the lantern, the guardsman standing on duty at the shoreline just ahead to the north. Our boat gently rocking on the waves as the woman slipped over the side into the water. We were about fifty feet out, the depth about three feet.

      "Bow too clumsy, and sword too heavy," she smiled back, then quietly moving off into the darkness of the night towards shore. I could smell Sandi beside me, the former slave girl sweating a bit now. Anis only a darker shadow as she settled herself on a thwart, her bow in her hand, an arrow nocked on the bowstring. Somewhere out there in the darkness was the North Star, waiting.

      "I wish Bob and I hadn't had that `spat' over this," Carol whispered softly to San-sha there in the darkness as they crept carefully through the woods, working their way around the estate.

      "Men often not `understand' women," the Nevada woman smiled. "Why we feel the way that we do about things," she added. Carol nodded in the darkness, well aware of "why" she felt the way that she did. She had not objectively been badly "abused" there on Lorraine's estates, but she had suffered repeated "rapes" or so she considered them, since she had certainly not "consented" to be "used" as she had. Forced to have sex when she didn't wish...

      "I wonder how slavery got started anyway," Carol mused to herself. She supposed that after the social breakdown caused by The War the stronger had simply "enslaved" the weaker much as had been done in eras far in the past. In a primitive social order without firearms, women had little means of "defense" against men who wished to enslave them. Men who cared little for the tradi- tions of the past. Men who cared only for conquest, domination! Even in the 20th Century "civilization" had been just a "veneer".

      "Those who do not `know' weapons end up the slaves of those who do," the Indian woman replied, having overheard Carol talking to herself. "Weapons and `freedom' are two sides of same coin."

      "You sound like the Dularnians," Carol smiled back in the darkness, hearing the muffled footfalls of the women following. The Dularnian Constitution put into "law" the idea of "universal armament" as both the "duty" and the "right" of all free people!!

      "They `right', know the `truth'," San-sha pointed out, now raising her hand, saying that she would go forward to explore...

      "`A well regulated militia being necessary for the security of a free state, the right of the people to keep and bear arms shall not be infringed'," Carol whispered to herself, recalling the words of the Second Amendment to the U.S. Constitution. In somewhat similar words was the "Prime Right" of Dularn, which to- tally forbade the government from ever "disarming" the people. A smile going over her attractive black painted face as she re- called having heard that in Dularn you could get into "trouble" if you didn't keep and bear arms! All able bodied citizens being members of the Dularnian militia from the age of eighteen on up!!

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