Jerome Bigge - Warlady 9 - Freedom Fighters of Trelandar

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Freedom Fighters of Trelandar
A Tale of Adventure in the Second Dark Age
Book Nine of the Warlady Series
By Jerome B. Bigge
Author's Note
Unlike my other books of the Warlady series, this one is set in a different time from the others, set in
a time before the fa- mous Warlady herself came on the scene. Back in a time when Dar- lanis first
attacked Trelandar in 2550, and "freedom loving" men and women followed the lovely Lady Sanda
Harles, sister of Queen Paula in an guerrilla war against the new Empire of California...
While Sanda is not the awesome fighter that Lorraine is, she is a capable and competent woman,
well able to lead her forces in a terroristic guerrilla war against the forces of Darlanis, who is seen here
through Sanda's eyes as an invader of a peaceful and tranquil land. One who must be resisted with
everything one has!
Then at the conclusion of the book we see the last hours of Earth, as an old woman takes Black Lady
up for her final flight. Tells us of the super hurricane winds, the earthquakes, the tidal waves that
resulted as the Earth was dragged out into the frigid depths of outer space by a neutron star in the year
2648. Sanda then escaping back through time to the 19th Century, where no one will believe the stories
that she has to tell here of the future.
FORWARD
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Freedom Fighters of Trelandar
A Tale of Adventure in the Second Dark Age
Book Nine of the Warlady Series
By Jerome B. Bigge
Forward
"You should go to bed, get some rest for the funeral tomor- row..," my son Eric said, placing his
hand gently on my shoulder. His beautiful golden haired foster sister Gayle Dai, now Queen of
Trelandar at his side as I sat there going through Lorraine's own things, her diaries, all the things that
she'd ever written down. For fifty six years we'd been married, Lorraine and I, and now it was all gone,
only "memories" like this world would soon be here!
"She died with a sword in her hand," I said, weeping now as I looked up at them both. "She would
have wanted it that way..." Their faces blurred before me as my eyes filled again with tears. She had
been legend, her name honored on two worlds, the greatest swordswoman of all time, this "Warlady"
whose name so many knew.
"I have given execution orders for the outlaws," Gayle spoke to me, her eyes, as blue as the sky,
glowing down into mine here. As Queen of Trelandar it was her duty to give such orders, just as it had
once been Lorraine's before she retired here last year. Saying that she was getting "old" and that it was
time to retire! But when the outlaws had come, she'd grabbed her weapons and be- fore any of us could
stop her had gone running to the forest, the dogs swarming around her, to take the arrow in her heart that
had took her life. Those who had survived the battle we'd sent on to Trella to face swift justice there in
the courts of law. A lynch mob had fought her Warrioresses, but I was proud of the people of Trella,
who had for the most part "understood" Gayle's pleadings. That Lorraine's memory would be dishonored
if such happened here!
"Do whatever you want," I said, knowing that nothing we did now would ever bring Lorraine back to
life. I thought of taking poison, of death, of being with HER again in that land beyond the mists of
knowledge, standing with her again as I have so often...
"Lady Sanda is here," my son Eric said to me, perhaps aware that I needed "company", someone to
talk to, just to listen here. Sanda waving away the others, Eric and Gayle nodding, leaving us. The
former Prime Minister of Trelandar herself now old, as old as I was, both of us having seen a century
passing by. Watched our friends die, both of age and of things like this, these outlaws. I thought of Ta-
she-ra, a young woman who had never been happy as a Princess of Trelandar. She'd transported herself
back in time, "back" to an era two thousand years before, when Rome was falling to barbarians and it
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would be a thousand years before the white man would come to the New World to take it from its own
peoples. Of Eric's own wife, Sequoia, truly a Princess, waiting outside. A woman of the Sierras, of the
mountains, a "half breed" to some. Of others whose names were recorded, who had fought beside "her".
"There's not too many of us left any more," I said to Sanda. Her husband had died years ago of an
assassin's dagger, serving the Crown as only he could as head of Lorraine's secret service. Lady Tirana
had died two decades before of old age, and Darlanis' last resting place no one knew, save that she had
no doubt died a "Warrioress' Death" as she would have wished it to have been now.
"But we have made legends," Sanda spoke, her dark eyes wet.
"Lorraine more than any of us," I said, seeing her nod back.
"She was like no other that ever was, or will be," Sanda an- swered in a soft voice. Earth had but a
couple of decades left. Then the neutron star would come, and end everything for us here. There were
the colonies on Mars, suitable I supposed for some, a world far different than the Earth, an arid cold
harsh world, not like our warm life giving Earth, a world that belonged to others. To the Women, to the
Lorr, a truly "alien" race if any ever was.
"Here are her `diaries'," I said, seeing Sanda nod back now.
"We should translate them, publish them so people can know," Sanda answered, her dark eyes
holding mine as I nodded back. "It will be a final `tribute' to a woman who was a example to all..."
"There is also this manuscript..." I said, giving it to her.
"She kept `this'!" Sanda breathed in awe, holding it there.
"I think it was `important' to her," I said, seeing her nod.
"I never was a writer," Sanda said, giving me a rueful grin.
"It is a part of the history of Trelandar," I answered her.
"It is but a tale of what I did before we met," Sanda said.
"I think she would have wanted it published," I said to her.
"You have my permission to do so," Sanda answered me softly.
Jon Richards
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Prince Consort of Trelandar
Next Chapter
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Freedom Fighters of Trelandar
A Tale of Adventure in the Second Dark Age
Book Nine of the Warlady Series
By Jerome B. Bigge
Chapter One
"They will be `here' in five minutes," Carl Talen said to me as I nodded, standing there beneath the
tree, the spreading limbs and the leaves overhead cutting out much of the sun's light here. My unicorn, a
dapple gray, was nuzzling here at the sparse grass as we stood there waiting and hidden for the wagon
train to come. The winding trail here before us the way the Imperials would have to take here through
these woods. Hopefully once again we might be successful here in denying to Darlanis the supplies now
aboard it. Doing what we could to "ease" the "pressures" on my sister's forces. Carl was a handsome
man, very much a Warrior, I mused to myself. The black leather of his attire leaving few doubts here.
The tunic and hose part of the uniform here of a Royal Guardsman. His rank markings that of a Captain
of Warriors, the Queen's own. A black beret, a gold hilted sword, all the martial trappings of the once
proud Royal Guardsmen of Trelandar, now but thirteen...
"You and your men will cut off the advance guard," I ordered in level tones. Aware that he was
looking at me again not as a "commander" of this force, but as an attractive woman... That he was aware
of the jut of my firm breasts beneath my leather tunic, the delightful fullness of my thighs beneath
clinging green hose now the "worse" for wear. I had no doubts that I smelled, that I quite badly needed a
bath, a chance to rest, to recover from this endless warfare the Queen of Sarn had brought to my beloved
Tre- landar. "Hold them as best you can while we attack the wagons," I continued, aware that he was of
the Warriors and that I was of the Scribes. That he might have "doubts" now about my ability to
command here. His "squad" of Warriors having just been assigned. I was angry that Queen Paula
thought so little of my efforts here that she'd only given me this officer and his pitiful dozen men! The
last remains of a company that had been so devoted to her! I had asked for a thousand, for a force
powerful enough to strike, and strike hard at the enemy, not just "harass" them like here!
"Yes, my Lady," the Warrior said, his eyes holding mine.
"I have only been widowed for two months," I said then.
"My family died in the assault on Trella," he replied.
"We have all `lost' much to these Sarnians," I nodded.
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"You are a `Scribe', not a Warrioress," he "observed".
"I am the sister of the Queen," I spoke in level tones.
"And as much a `fighter' as she is," Carl Talen grinned.
"I fear I am not at my `best'," I smiled, aware of the fact that in another couple minutes I might be
dead. My people having orders to kill me rather than let me fall alive into the hands of the enemy. I am
normally a quite attractive woman, dark haired, dark eyed like many Trelandarians, a hint of "olive" to
my skin. A squirrel in a tree chattering away, angry at being "disturbed".
"I trust you are skilled with that blade at your hip," Carl smiled, "And that odd looking bow that you
carry," he added here. The sword a light slim blade, suitable for a woman's strength, my compound bow
a "rarity" here in Trelandar, although they are more common in Dularn. The weapons being hand made,
and quite costly.
"They come," I spoke, seeing the first of the advance guard now through the trees, Carl Talen
hurrying off then to his men... I prayed he would not be reckless, die under a Warrioress' lance. I'd seen
too many die, too many whom I'd spoken a last word over!
"Hold your fire!" I hissed, my right arm lifted high. I did not wish to warn the Imperials too soon of
the ambush I'd set for them. My objectives here were the wagons, not the escort of Sar- nian
Warrioresses with their long lances, helmets, shields, armor of chain mail gleaming in the sun... I was
not interested in any slave girls we might be able to collect either, only in destroy- ing the military
supplies being shipped to the front. Handicap- ping that "disowned" Dularnian Princess in her battle
against us! That beautiful blonde "slut" who had "bedded" her way to a Crown! Who now wanted to
build an "Empire of California" with Trelandar as her first conquest after finding the Nevadas too
"difficult"! And that new Warlady of hers, that Bajan, was truly a witch too!! Destroying everything in
her path like the Mongols from the past!
Then came the CRASH of the cut trees crashing to earth, now shutting off escape for the wagons on
this narrow trail, the of- ficer in charge whipping out her sword, crying out her "warning". The uplifted
blade glistening in the sunlight for an instant be- fore one of our hidden crossbowmen now brought her
tumbling down! The unicorns of the escort rearing up as the Warrioresses wheeled them around,
searching for the "source" of these deadly missiles! Men jumping off their wagons, most now cowering
down behind them! A few, braver than most, firing small crossbows in our direction. The horses hitched
to the wagons, rearing and yanking the wagons about, several with arrows or crossbow bolts sticking
into them!
Here in the forest the long lances were more a "handicap" to the enemy women than a "help", our
flights of arrows and crossbow bolts emptying saddles as the Warrioresses wheeled their unicorns about,
searching out the source of their trouble and charging us! I watched a Warrioress, thrown from her
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saddle, throw up her arm in terror as a bolting team of four horses now trampled over her!
We were all yelling and screaming at the top of our lungs, such serving both to "encourage" our
people and to demoralize the enemy here, as well as keeping any surviving officers from taking
command. I had so far shot three arrows, one hit, two misses, a fair ratio considering how rapidly
everyone was moving about now! The woman I'd hit having been struck in the hip, which didn't I'd
noticed here seem to handicap her all that much despite things... She'd dropped her lance, and with
drawn sword, had charged into the woods, seeking out the author of her hurt like an enraged Ti- gon
might, that saber toothed monster caused by The War of 2047.* * It appears that Sanda believed at this
point that such animals were the result of radiation, not genetic experiments made earli- er in the 21st
Century as Lorraine has always claimed here. (JBB)
I took another shot at the woman, missed, the Warrioress now striking down a luckless Peasant lad,
the blood running down her leg from the arrow, which obviously hadn't caused her to lose in- terest in
things as I'd first hoped... My missile attracting her attention, another striking her shield, sticking in it, as
she now charged me with drawn sword, obviously fully intending to see that if she was to die here, she'd
take as many of us with her!!
I dodged back around behind my tree as she charged on past, the armored woman wheeling her
unicorn about, screaming curses at me in her fury, her sword slashing down as I jumped back, unable to
nock another arrow in time! Only the fact that we were in a thick forest allowing me to dodge her sword
slash in time here as I dropped my bow and drew the blade I carried at my own hip now!
"YOU LYS-DAMNED REBEL SLUT OF A BITCH!" she screamed at me, a crossbow bolt now
striking her in the right shoulder then caus- ing her even more troubles, although she didn't drop her
sword, which I'd expected, but came charging right at me again here! I jumped back as the woman flung
herself from the saddle, my sword driving to the hilt up into her body as she came smashing down on top
of me! Her own blade fortunately missing me as I twisted to one side just enough to avoid her last thrust,
the weight of the armored woman smashing me to the ground, my head being "slammed" here against a
root of the tree against which I'd been standing!!
"My Lady!" one of my green clad fighting men cried, running up to me. Everything seeming to
"swim" about before my eyes from the blow to my head, although at least I was still alive, which was
more than I could say for this Sarnian Warrioress whose body my sword blade had pieced for its entire
two foot length here! I had no doubts that she knew she was going to die, and her last thoughts had been
no doubt to try to take me with her! Her face was set in a last snarl of rage, of a fury that spoke much
here! Her eyes seemingly wide in shock, as if she couldn't believe it!!
"I'm... I'm all right!" I answered, my head feeling like it was going to split apart! My forces having
by now mostly "dealt" with the Warrioresses, the survivors having fled back down the trail from which
they'd come, along with the wagon men who'd been able to seize mounts and follow them. We had
achieved a victory, even if it had been by military standards only a mere "skirmish".
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"Three dead, two wounded," Carl Talen said to me, almost as if he was accusing me of having
caused their deaths or injuries. The wagons were loaded with corn, with dried meat, although one I
found had carried several of the new Dularnian compound crossbow, which is an excellent weapon, far
superior to anything we'd had. There had also been several slave girls chained on to the wagons, whose
chains I'd had struck off before I ordered the wagons to be burned, the wenches now kneeling to one side
watching the flames. The smoke rising up into the sky, marking where death had struck! The enemy's
loses had been eleven dead, with two so badly wounded I did not think that they would live to see the
sun set this day. I had the captured men from the wagons make litters, put them on them to protect them
from beasts even if they wouldn't survive... I was not of the Warrioresses, but I kept the "caste codes"
here.
"The enemy's loses were considerably higher," I retorted. I could only swap Trelandarian lives for
Sarnian at as high a price as I could get, in the growing "futile" hope that Darlanis would give up her
attack upon us and be willing to come to "terms" now! With that damn Bajan of hers, that didn't seem
too likely either. My sister was "brave" enough, but not a good military tactician.
"You're `good' at what you do," he suddenly said to me then.
"I read a lot," I snapped, not in the best of "moods" here. I had a splitting headache, my neck was
stiff, I was feeling that emotional "drain" that comes after you fight a battle like this. I was in no mood to
play little "man-woman" games here right now! He might have been "Lys' Gift to women", but I wasn't
interested!
"What `were' you before this?" the handsome Warrior captain asked me, standing there, glancing
over at the three slave girls. "A historian, someone who `read' about wars in the past here...?" I'd never
had much to "do" with any government affairs, and he'd never actually met me before even if I was the
Queen's sister.
"I was an attorney at law, Mr. Talen," I now snapped back.
"You were probably pretty good at `that' too," he "grinned".
"If you want a woman, `use' one of them!" I "snapped" then. The three slave girls might as well be
put to some good use here!
Next Chapter
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Freedom Fighters of Trelandar
A Tale of Adventure in the Second Dark Age
Book Nine of the Warlady Series
By Jerome B. Bigge
Chapter Two
"She needs the `services' of a Physician," the woman spoke, looking up at me, holding the hand of
the other now seated there. The wounded woman had been hit by a crossbow bolt, which had been
driven into her right shoulder right down to the shoulder blade, the agony of it twisting her otherwise
attractive face. Some of the wagon masters having been armed here with lightweight cross- bows of the
sort often now carried by such men. Lani was a woman of the Peasants, just a simple "farm girl", who
had not hesitated to leave her family, and follow the tree flag of Trelandar! The other members of my
force gathering around, watching us here as the breeze gently rustled the leaves upon the limbs up
overhead. Most of them were low caste people, simple workers and farmers.* * In this society of the
26th Century, people were divided into "castes" based upon what their occupation was. The "high"
castes were the Warriors and the Warrioresses, who were the "rulers". Followed by the "learned" castes
such as Scribes, Physicians, and Builders. The Merchants were the "middle" caste, with the Peas- ants,
Iron Workers, Leather Workers, and such on the "bottom" of the social "pecking" order. There were also
"guilds", organiza- tions similar to labor unions for the skilled workers. (J.B.B.)
"When those Warrioresses reach..." Carl replied, there being no need to finish the rest of the
sentence. The Imperials would send out a force powerful enough to put "paid" to mine in spades! And
with those Nevada trackers they were using now, it meant that we had to make "tracks" out of here, and
quick too if we were to live to fight another day again for our beloved wooded Trelandar. This land of
the great redwoods which gives our country its name. The three slave girls I'd freed, as was my practice
here, not so much to hinder the Imperials, but because I didn't like slavery.
"She's in no condition to `ride' like that!" I snapped. My Physician was dead, and although I knew
something of medicine, I was well aware that I didn't know enough here to get that bolt! Not without
leaving the head in the wound as was all too likely!!
"Don't leave me `alive' for them, my Lady!" Lani now cried! Those gathered around here in the
forest "nodding" to themselves. We were considered by the Empire pretty much as "terrorists" now. A
favored method of execution by the Imperials being to "suspend" the captive from a tree limb and then
shoot arrows into them now. Another being to build a fire beneath you, which the Nevadas did.
"You have medical supplies?" Carl asked, knowing that I did. Such things I kept when I could get
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them from the Imperials, as I could always trade such things with the Peasants for food, tools, and
sometimes arms, although the Imperials had been going about disarming everyone of weapons, much
like was done long ago. Mak- ing sure that the territory they controlled remained "peaceful"! No
conqueror enjoys the fact that the people have effective arms.
"I can do some things, but to do `that'..." I answered back.
"That crossbow bolt has to come out," Carl Talen said to me. I could hear the leaves rustling in trees
around us as I nodded. The chirps of birds, all the sounds of life here in my Trelandar.
"There will be no `pain'," I promised Lani Grant as I mois- tened the cloth with chloroform and held
it over her face. I'd given her two shots of morphine too, just to help make sure here. Carl Talen going
through the medical supplies, picking out the tools that he would need to do the operation out here
beneath the trees. The thought going through my mind that every moment that we tarried here added to
the "dangers" that we faced in this now. Dripping more chloroform on the cloth as Lani breathed deeply
of it. Carl now joining us, the surgical tools he'd use now ready.
"Wish we had more time," Carl breathed, glancing over at me. Lani now unconscious, or at least
appearing to be here. I was no Physician, and I didn't know how "much" chloroform to use, aware that
too much would kill her, which was another concern here too, especially with all my people standing
there watching us operate.
"Just get that bolt out!" I hissed, looking up, ordering the rest to leave us. To regroup at the place that
I had picked out earlier. Such being necessary so the Imperials couldn't track us as a group, but only
upon a basis of a few at a time here, which was far more difficult for them to do, we'd found by
experience.
"Odd how Darlanis' army is so much `bigger' than ours," Carl spoke as he cut into Lani, the blood
spurting as he did, running, the young woman having a tint to her skin that left no doubts in the distant
past one of her ancestors had been of another race, a "Black" as historians referred to them, such racial
intermingling being commonplace in Trelandar, a bit less so in Sarn, with those of Dularn being more
pure blooded "Whites" than anyone else here.
"She's been building it up for `years' now," I answered him back as my force now mounted up and
rode out. Darlanis also had a lot of men at arms, (both sexes) "filling it out". As well as mercenaries that
she'd hired from everyone she could. She'd also introduced a sort of "military conscription" to fill the
ranks of her support forces, such as the wagon drivers we'd seen. We be- lieved this "last" was now upon
the "advice" of Princess Tara of Baja, the former Queen of Sarn before Thar Marden divorced her to
marry Darlanis. The only really surprising thing about this was that Tara was willing to assist Darlanis,
although we'd suspected that some sort of "deal" had been struck here between these two!!
"We should have been doing the `same' ourselves," Carl said, cutting deeper into Lani, the woman
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