Freedom Fighters of Trelandar
A Tale of Adventure in the Second Dark Age
Book Nine of the Warlady Series
By Jerome B. Bigge
Chapter Seven
     
"If `they' ever find `you' here..." the man whimpered, whin-
ing like a child, no doubt terrified of what the Imperials might
do! He was the "mayor" of this village, this "speck" on the map,
this "farming village" in the foot hills of Trelandar. The Sier-
ras there to the east visible on a clear day rising up into the
sky like the spine of some legendary monster. He was not "much"
of a "man", hardly worthy of the title of "man", I thought to my-
self as I stood there. My own "presence" here leaving no doubts.
Certainly not the sort of a person anyone would ever want to risk
their own lives for. I wondered how such a person had ever been
elected "mayor" in the first place? My own attire now that of an
ordinary civilian, the "bearing" of arms being "outlawed" inside
territory occupied by the Imperials. I carried a small concealed
blade, as did Carl, our other weapons now hid there in the woods.
There was a small Imperial detachment here in the village, some
dozen men at arms, who had paid little attention to us riding in.
That is "attention" other than they noticed I was a good looking
woman, their "antics" here reminding me much of teen aged boys...
We were in occupied territory, a part of Trelandar Darlanis held.
My sister had several times taken such territory "back", but it
was a hopeless and thankless task, and costly in lives to do now.
After months of war Trelandar north of Trella was Darlanis' now,
my sister having successfully "held" forty miles south of Trella.
The ruins of Los Angeles to its north being a "no man's land" the
Imperials carefully avoided here as much as we Trelandarians did.
Whether the legends are true about the place I don't know, but I
do know that there are "things" living there Lys never created...
     
"They will burn this village, suspend `you' on a rope from a
tree in the square, and shoot arrows into your body..." I smiled.
Thinking of the old "saying" that a coward dies many times, but a
brave man only once... We were in one of the upper rooms of the
tavern, a ramshackle place that had seen its better days no doubt
long before I'd been born... "On the other hand, even a cornered
rat will fight, but a rat deserves more `respect' than you do," I
smiled, my eyes burning into his as he seemed to shrink more now!
A low rumbling of thunder in the distance like a great drum roll.
I had no doubt that it would be raining here in another hour now.
"You might consider confessing your sins to a Priestess if any of
them are about, so that you may greet Lys with less fear then," I
grinned at him, the Priestesses teaching that one is judged after
one's death for how you've lived your life while living on Earth.
Just "rubbing it in" a bit here, his cowardice disgusting to me,
like something "unclean" that I wanted to wash my hands of here.
     
"Please `leave', oh great Lady, leave us be..." he sobbed in
tears that made me wonder if he was even biologically a man here!
The thought going through my mind that he'd make a good slave for
some dominant mistress as he certainly wasn't any kind of a MAN!!
     
"Go `hide' behind your wife's skirt, if you have one!" Carl
snapped, standing up, and then suddenly grabbing "his honor" the
mayor by the shirt and the seat of his britches and "assisting"
him to the door in a way that left no doubt as to his thoughts!
     
"The Imperials are now executing any who `resist' them," one
of my "cell leaders" said, her eyes now meeting mine as I nodded.
She was only the wife of an Iron Worker, but she did have "guts".
Taking a swig of her warm beer, and then wiping her mouth with
the back of her arm as her two other companions glanced at me. I
had made up a "chain of command" system based upon "cells", each
of my "cells" containing anywhere from three to about seven peo-
ple who knew only their own cell leader or leaderess. I did not
know the names of my own people, each who had only a "number" as
a name. Such hopefully might better prevent any betrayal here.
     
"We expected that they would do `that', Four," I smiled.
     
"Did Lani make it?" he who was Two now asked me here.
     
"She is `safe'," I answered, seeing him nodding now.
     
"We are few, the Imperials are many," One commented.
     
"Then each of us will have to kill more," Carl spoke.
     
"Here is `Three' now," Two commented, the man entering.
     
"There's an Imperial brigade coming this way," he spoke.
     
"Four, go check on his `honor'," I said, Four "nodding", now
getting up from the table, drawing her bodkin, testing its sharp-
ness with her thumb before pushing it back down into the con-
cealed sheath hidden underneath the back of her skirt. I did not
"trust" the man that much, and I felt it worth keeping an eye on
him, especially as Princess Tara had "rewards" posted for us now.
The former Queen of Sarn having few doubts as to "what" we were!
     
"Five hasn't made it yet, or Six either," One said to me.
     
"The Imperials are patrolling this area," Two pointed out.
     
"I can see the dust there in the distance," Carl said to me.
An Imperial brigade was a force of about a thousand total, with a
full company of Warrioresses, along with Imperial Knights here.
Men heavily armored and mounted on "armored" unicorns. A "shock"
force used "tactically" much as tanks had been used centuries ago
here. One of Darlanis' "ideas" that hadn't "panned out" all that
well in the rapidly flowing sort of warfare that we were fighting
now. Our Warlady, Lady Tirana Grayson, was an old "experienced"
fighting woman who had seen about every military "trick" ever
tried. The knights were a problem, but not a "serious" one here.

     
"I hope Four is keeping a good eye on the mayor," I spoke.
     
"The man isn't trustworthy," Two said to me then in reply.
     
"He could betray us to them out of fear," Carl said to me.
     
"I don't want to..." I said, Four walking back in just now.
     
"The mayor is `meat'," Four spoke, her eyes meeting my own,
using the slang term for a dead body. "He would have betrayed us
to the Imperials," she explained, "Just as soon as they rode in."
     
"It is `war time'," One spoke, his eyes meeting those of Two
as they nodded. Carl standing there by the window keeping watch.
"And in war time traitors are executed," the man continued then.
I supposed it was a good a justification for murder as any here.
     
"I dumped his body behind a outhouse out back," Four said.
     
"You did `right'," I said to Four, seeing her nod in reply.
     
"There is a detachment of Warrioresses now coming this way,"
Carl spoke, standing by the window. "An advance guard no doubt."
     
"We can flee before they get `wise' to us," Two said to me.
     
"The rest of you flee, I'm staying," I said, aware that I'd
be able to gain needed information from the Imperials posing as a
woman of "easy virtue". The little ditty running through my mind
that Warrioresses sing on the march. That it is "better" to be a
whore than a Warrioress, because a whore does her "work" in bed!!
     
"I'll stay with you," Carl said to me, holding my gaze here.
     
"What I'm going to do is best done alone," I smiled to him.
     
"You are `of' the Warrioresses..." he said, seeing me nod.
     
"There are times I recollect the `codes'," I smiled back.

     
I watched the woman enter, her uniform, her ornaments, leav-
ing no doubt as to "who" she was! She was a beautiful woman, but
as I looked upon her I felt as if something "unclean" had brushed
my soul. There was a look in her eyes like that of a rattlesnake
waiting to strike. The former Queen of Sarn having a reputation
for cruelty that was unusual even in this barbaric age of ours...
Slipping off the rain cloak, the thunder booming in the sky now.
The actions of her own people leaving no doubts about Tara Bisan.
     
I was working as a "barmaid", the bartender so terrified of
the Imperials that he could hardly pour the drinks. My attire of
a tied off blouse and a mid thigh height skirt leaving few douhts
of the sort of a woman that I might be. I carried no arms, such
being too dangerous in a "situation" like this where any Imperial
might suddenly "feel me up". I was relying on my wits, not arms.
A Warrioress is "dangerous" not because of the arms she carries,
but of the way that her mind works. Weapons are not too always
what they seem, I might note. Beer or wine flung in a man's face
will allow you time to draw his own sword, thrust it into him as
he fights to see. A broken bottle can slash a throat. A fork is
a dangerous weapon if you know where to strike with it. I walked
over to the Imperials' Warlady, her dark eyes meeting mine like a
pair of dark coals, her beauty meaning nothing to such as I here.
     
"What is your wish, your majesty?" I asked, setting down the
tableware before her, the napkin, Tara watching me like a deadly
snake might watch, a golden wrist shield gleaming in the light of
the lamps. The interior of the bar close, humid due to the rain.
I noticed that she did not sit so that any might get behind her.
She was a true predator, as vicious as any great cat might be...
     
"You know `who' I am, Trelandarian slut?" she spoke to me.
     
"I know you are the Warlady of the Empire," I said to her.
     
"You do not seem to `be' what you appear," she said to me!
     
"Times are `hard', and one must `do' what one must do," I
quickly replied, hoping that my voice sounded steady in her ears.
I was terrified of the woman, not because she was Warlady of the
Empire of California, but because she was Princess Tara, who had
a reputation of torturing people that terrified the bravest here!
It is said that not even a stone can hold its tongue against her!
"I was a tutor before the war..." I added, praying she'd believe!
     
"What is your name?" she hissed, reminding me of a reptile.
     
"Sanda... Sanda Talen," I breathed, thinking swiftly here.
     
"Take off your clothing, all of it, serve nude," she said.
     
"Please, mistress!!" I breathed, aware of her eyes so hot!
     
"You are not unpleasing to the eye," Princess Tara grinned.
     
"They are men, long on the march!" I pleaded, aware I was
playing a role, that this woman was highly intelligent, deadly...
     
"You may place your clothing in my `safe keeping'," Tara now
smiled, the Imperial Warlady speaking in words that left no doubt
that I had no choice, that I would have to serve in the nude now!
"Or I will `have' you stripped and hung by your thumbs from the
rafters," Tara said in level tones, her words like low thunder...
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