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she was right, remembering my own life in the 20th Century. That of others I
had known before coming here.
I relaxed in the sun, soaking up its rays there on the quar- terdeck of
Sarnian Lady. I had put myself "in harms way" and gained little from it. With
Dala's withdrawal of her permission to use the Tarls of Talon I had no
effective means of carrying the war to the Dularnians. I could launch raids on
their coastal villages, as Maris and others had done to us, but for little if
any gain. Such actions, while "annoying", accomplished little. We were as far
from peace with Dularn as ever, I thought, watch- ing Darlanis, magnificent in
her golden mesh, lean back against the rail, her azure eyes now half closed
against the sun's glare. She had her "pride", her "honor" to consider. So did
Maris Marn. That had been the trouble. Neither side was willing to "give".
"We will be in Sarn tomorrow," Darlanis said to me.
Chapter Forty Two
"Princess Tara has escaped from the Nevadas," Darlanis said as her own
personal Physician finished up with her check up of me. The woman having made
the "comment" earlier that I was doing quite well for a woman my "age",
apparently believing I was at least a century old instead of the forty that I
actually am! I had been through a lot, and I suppose I didn't look that
good...
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"No doubt with `help'," I growled, well aware of the prob- lems she
could cause for us. True, with Darl Jord dead she had lost an "ally" there in
Dularn, but doubtlessly there were others who would be eager to "serve" the
evil "Princess of Darkness". I could see the bay outside the windows of the
Imperial Palace, the ships there at anchor. Tara would stir up trouble
wherever she could, I knew, and there were certainly enough places for her to
do so. Her criminal underworld had been something we'd been una- ble to stamp
out despite our best efforts, and she doubtlessly had "friends" almost
everywhere, I suspected, recalling our ear- lier efforts against her. She was
an intelligent woman, perhaps as intelligent as I am, certainly more so than
Darlanis, I knew.
"Captain Dunn of the Corsica stands ready to take you back to Trella,"
Darlanis said. The other ships had already sailed at my order back home. I saw
no good reason to hold them here at Sarn when they might be needed elsewhere.
Darlanis had her own navy and I had mine. We were having a problem with
Mexican pi- rates right now, and I suspected Princess Tara's "hand" in this.
"Think we'll ever know `peace' in our life times?" I asked with a smile,
dressing myself with the Physician's help. I was able to sit up and everything
now, but walking was yet a problem. I recalled my earlier conversations with
Darlanis some days be- fore. We were almost as far from peace as ever here, it
seemed.
"That's what keeps us young," Darlanis smiled back at me.
"You are truly of the Warrioresses," I said to her then.
"As you are, regardless of what you say," she smiled.
"I trust everything is ship shape," I smiled to Valerie.
"I think it will stand your inspection," she smiled back.
"I understand that Sela left with the Squala," I observed, quickly
glancing at the men, the rigging, the masts and yards. I had no doubts that
Valerie was well aware of my "requirements"...
"Her finger was `ringed'," Valerie smiled back, taking me from Darlanis,
who had been supporting me during this small talk. I had not wished to be
carried aboard the ship, or wheeled aboard in a wheel chair. I had managed to
walk on my own two feet, with my right arm over Darlanis' broad shoulders. It
had taken almost everything I had to walk up that gangplank, but I had done
it...
"And her neck will doubtlessly soon be `chained'," I smiled.
"Trella," Valerie said, lowering the telescope. I could just see the
ruins of Los Angeles there to the north of the city. To most inhabitants of
Trella and Trelandar such a place was a "no man's land". A place where strange
beasts and even stranger men roamed. I had once encountered such a creature
the year be- fore. I recalled Sa-she-ra, her bravery, her courage. My eyes a
bit moist as the memories came flooding back. She had died tak- ing the bullet
that Princess Tara had meant for me. Sanda Talen was a mother now, her son now
six weeks old. He'd been born just after I'd left with the squadron for
Dularn. Carl Talen's last "gift" to his wife, who I think he had truly loved
despite Maris.
"Home," I answered, getting painfully out of my deck chair, and walking
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over to the rail, staring out over the restless sea. I was able to walk now,
stand, although I tired quickly yet now. It would be weeks yet before I would
be fully recovered from the bullet that Darl Jord's pistol had placed so close
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