TOMB HUNTER

The Adventures of Larra Court

Episode 6

Larra’s Arctic Adventure

Chapter 1 Melissa

Montreal , Quebec, Canada, October, 1939

Larra Court studied her naked profile in the full-length mirror. She lifted her heavy breasts, watching with satisfaction as the firm flesh bounced lightly on her chest, the upturned pink nipples partially erect. Her hands slowly slid down over her hard, flat stomach and then moved behind her to her tight shapely bottom. She raised one beautifully arched eyebrow over her unusual violet eyes. Pursing her full lips she murmured in appreciation of her own image.

“Not bad for thirty-one and three children.” But then she should be in pretty good shape. She had worked out for three hours a day since giving birth in March. She didn’t even have any stretch marks. Her body seemed as trim and fit as it had been when she was only eighteen.

Thank goodness for John Grey and the mystical spring he had shown her in the depths of darkest Africa. Its location was known only to Larra and her closest companions. She was too much of a scientist to believe in miracles, but she had to admit that there was something almost magical about the water that came from the spring. Taken weekly, it not only slowed the aging process, but also restored any of the ravages of time and nature. It even helped injuries heal more quickly. Larra could not explain how it worked, she was just glad that it did.

A sound at the door broke her reverie. “Yes?” she responded.

“Miss Larra,” said a musical voice that Larra knew well. “I have your daughter as you requested.”

“Come in,” Larra instructed, pulling on a silken robe. The door opened and Larra’s maidservant, Sarah entered, her midnight black skin gleaming. She was carrying Larra’s new daughter, Jane. Larra smiled, her entire face brightening. Just nine months old, baby Jane had her father’s clear blue-gray eyes and his shock of dark hair. There was a slight Asian caste to her face, reflecting Larra’s part-Japanese heritage.

Larra bounced the child on her knee, and thought of her other children, nine year old James, and four year old Lin Yao. Each born of different fathers, as little Jane was. She reflected on the various loves of her life. Her first love James Allenby, the white hunter, who had been killed in Africa after fathering her oldest child; then Tabin, the Mongol warrior, the only man she had married, and father of Lin Yao; and finally John Grey, the mysterious apeman who had saved her life on more than one occasion. It was Grey who had fathered Jane, much to Larra’s relief. During her last adventure, she had been raped by the high priest of the Ullabomba and on finding herself pregnant had waited nine suspenseful months for her daughter to be born.

She was alone in Canada, except for Sarah, and her other children. All of her usual companions were not available for her latest adventure. Her South African friend Amy was in England with her husband, Albrecht Steiner, looking after her first child. Jia Li, the beautiful Chinese martial artist was also in England with her husband Sir Archibald, awaiting the birth of her first child. And her American friend Katie Reddel was involved in the war effort, having volunteered to train pilots for the RAF.

A few days ago, she had been summoned to Ottawa meet with the British ambassador. Like many of her past meeting with representatives of the British government, the meeting had been very strange. Wartime made the meeting stranger still. She had been asked to travel into the high arctic during a time of year least suited to travel in that remote region, but the information given to her by the ambassador had instilled a sense of urgency into the mission. And so, she was spending one last day with her children before beginning her journey to what the Canadians simply called “the North.”

She was interrupted in her play with her daughter by a second knock at the door. It was the downstairs maid. “Miss Larra, there is a strange young woman downstairs. She claims she has come to see you about a job.”

Larra frowned. She had not advertised any job position on her staff. “Are you sure she wants to see me, and not the butler? I did not advertise for any personal staff.”

“That is what I thought ma’am, but she insisted that she must meet with you.”

Larra frowned and handed the baby to Sarah. This was most strange. Larra did not recruit members of her staff by advertising in any case. She had always selected them personally. “Who is she, and what does she look like?” she inquired.

“Her name is Melissa Gallant, ma’am. She is quite young. Barely eighteen I would guess. And very pretty. And tall. Taller than you, ma’am.”

Larra raised her eyebrows. She stood five-feet-ten. Much taller than most women of her time period. She would have to meet this young woman. “I will dress first, Madeline,” she said to the maid. "Ask Miss Gallant to wait, and offer her tea. I will be down shortly.”

Melissa Gallant paced nervously in the parlor of Larra’s palatial estate house. She felt decidedly foolish and impetuous. Suppose the famous explorer and archeologist refused to see her? What then? She would have traveled all the way from Toronto and in defiance of her father for nothing. She should have planned this better. Failure and humiliation stared her in the face. It would make her look like such a fool. She thought back to her last conversation with her father.

“You want to be what?” her father had asked incredulously.

“An archeologist, Daddy. Like Larra Court, the famous British adventuress.” That word, ‘Daddy,’ had usually gotten her what she wanted in the past, but not this time.

“You must be joking. I send you off to the best English finishing school and you come back full of outlandish ideas of traipsing around the world with a woman whose moral standards are dubious to say the least.”

“But Larra Court is a world famous archeologist. She has been places and done things no one else has.”

“She is also a woman of low moral standards, who has had at least three children out of wedlock, and not all of them of her own race.” Her father suddenly seemed to remember himself. He flushed. “In any case this is not a subject I wish to discuss with you. I will hear no more if it.” He turned and left the room.

Melissa realized that she had overstepped her mark. In her father’s mind, young women were not supposed to discuss such things as sex or human relations. To him, Larra Court’s social standing was only slightly higher than that of a female film star. And he regarded all actresses as prostitutes. He didn’t seem to realize that they now lived in the middle of the twentieth century.

And yet, Melissa was fascinated by Larra and her adventures. She had read all of Larra’s books, and had avidly followed accounts of her adventures in the newspapers and magazines of the day. It was her ambition to be just like her, but there was no way she could make her father or mother understand. They had raised her in the expectation that she would do what every young woman of her social class did. She would get a good but useless education; learn proper manners and morals; find a suitable marriage partner; and marry and produce well-mannered grandchildren. She was not expected to her use brain or develop any of her natural talents.

But Melissa did not fit their mold. Where her parents were conservative and traditional, she was outgoing and intelligent. She fought against the constraints of the society of the 1930s. The role her parents had chosen for her was not to her liking. She wanted something more out of life than being some man’s arm ornament. Larra Court was her ideal; a woman who flouted early twentieth century traditions. A woman who had struck out on her own and made a name for herself. Despairing of ever convincing her parents that she deserved the right to make up her own mind about her future she had taken a gamble and boarded a train for Montreal.

She had learned from the newspapers that Larra was in Montreal, staying at her large estate on the outskirts of town. The adventuress frequently came to Canada whenever she could find the time in order to get away from the news-hounds of the British tabloids, who followed her everywhere when she was in Britain. Canadians tended to be a little more respectful of privacy, and for the most part she was left alone while in Canada. Now Melissa had come to her doorstep, desperately hoping that by some slim chance the mysterious heroine would have some sort of job opening for her. She realized now, how foolish that hope was. Why would Larra Court want to have anything to do with her?

“Miss Gallant, is it?” The voice was cultured, deeper than most women’s voices, and almost hypnotic in its power. If Melissa had been a man she would have found it incredibly alluring.

Startled out of her thoughts, Melissa merely stared. A vision stood in the doorway of the parlor. Larra Court was tall and stately, her well-tailored dark blue pantsuit showing off her curves. She wore her dark red-brown hair down, not having bothered to do anything elaborate with it. It hung almost to her waist. The top two buttons of her white blouse were undone, revealing a hint of the upper curve of her large breasts. The outfit served to emphasize her tiny waist and slim hips.

She appeared younger than Melissa thought she would. There was a slight Asian cast to her face as accented by her high cheekbones. Melissa knew that this was due to Larra’s one-quarter Japanese heritage. Her skin appeared velvet smooth and unblemished. She did not appear to be wearing any makeup, and yet her facial features were striking. Dazzling violet eyes gazed out from under perfectly arched eyebrows. Her nose was straight and delicate, and her full lips, pouting and inviting. Melissa realized that if she had been a man she probably would have fallen in love with Larra Court right then.

Larra stepped into the room, stepping with antelope-like grace. Before her was a young girl simply dressed in a light blue blouse and dark skirt. Her shoulder length hair was a deep chestnut brown. Larra saw that she was very pretty. She was, as Madeline had stated, very tall. But she carried herself well. There was no hint of schoolgirl awkwardness. Her height was somewhat offset by a perfect figure highlighted by long legs, with perfectly turned calves and full high breasts. Deep brown eyes, now wide with astonishment completed a picture of feminine loveliness.

Noting her confused response, Larra at once switched to French. “Or is it Mademoiselle Gallant,” she said giving Melissa’s last name the French pronunciation.

“C'est Gallant,” answered Melissa, using the English form of her name, but otherwise answering in French. It was a language she had learned as part of her gentile education in the elite girl’s school she had attended for twelve of her eighteen years.

“I am told you have come seeking employment. But I have not advertised for any help. What do you have to offer that I would find attractive?”

“I wish to be an archeologist," gushed Melissa, “like you. I have read all your books and have read all of the writings of the great archeologists. I’ve read Schliemann and Carter, and Gann, and Marshall, and even Andrews.”

“Andrews is a paleontologist,” interrupted Larra, “not an archeologist.”

“Well, yes, but I’m interested in that too. I’ve always thought dinosaurs to be fascinating.”

Larra smiled inwardly at the girl’s eagerness. Melissa reminded her of another young woman who had come to see her a few years ago, her friend Katie Redell, who had turned out to be a tremendous asset. For her enthusiasm and courage if nothing else.

“And you parents?” asked Larra. “What do they think of your chosen career?”

“Well, they…I mean my father…” Melissa stammered.

“They don’t know you are here do they?”

“No,” relied Melissa hanging her head. Then impulsively, she reached out and took Larra’s hand. “Please, Miss Court,” she pleaded, “I can be of help to you I know I can. I’m smart and in good shape. I had top marks at school and was star sweeper on the field hockey team at my school, and I won the southern Ontario Junior Women’s Tennis Championship last year.”

This time Larra could not help smiling openly. She almost laughed.

“You’re laughing at me,” Melissa said accusingly.

“No,” said Larra. “It’s just that you remind me of someone I know.”

While she had been talking with the girl, Larra had been mulling the situation over in her mind. She could use an assistant. All of her regular colleagues were otherwise occupied. Although Melissa was young, she was not much younger than several of her companions were when they had first joined her. She was not much younger than Larra had been for that matter when she had embarked on her first adventure.

Melissa held her breath. Larra had not spoken for several seconds and was clearly thinking over what she had said.

“Alright,” Larra said finally. “I’ll give you a chance. I’m leaving on an important expedition in a few days and that will give me a chance to judge your usefulness. But you must promise me to write a nice letter to your parents explaining what you have done.”

“Thank you Miss Court,” said Melissa enthusiastically. “You won’t regret this. I’ll show you how good I can be.”

“The name is Larra. Get rid of the Miss Court thing. You can stay in the house with me. I will require you to be near me at all times, and I don’t suppose you have any place to stay anyway.”

“No, Miss…I mean Larra. I would be glad to stay here. I’ll even sleep in the attic if you don’t have much room.”

“I think I can squeeze you in,” Larra smiled. The house had six bedrooms, not counting the servants’ quarters. She called to the maid and asked Madeline to show Melissa to one of the guest rooms. “Do you have any luggage?”

“Just this,” said Melissa holding up her handbag.

“Hmmm, we’ll have to get you some clothes. Go with Madeline so that you know where your room is and then report back to me. I’ll be in the morning room. You can join me there for breakfast. We’ll start working right away.”

Melissa almost skipped out of the room. She was sure that Larra would accept her. She’d work her head off. As for her parents, she was sure that they would understand.

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