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Unconscious of themselves they moved about the palace, executing Maida's orders. A dozen or so of Maida's personal retainers were here and most of the Earth men. Keen-eyed young men of the Washington Headquarters Staff. One of them Tomm Aften by name, a ruddy, blue-eyed fellow was in command. He stayed close by Georg and me. The city was seething.
His smile was wistful. "We must choose the lesser evil." Still gently, almost sorrowfully, but with a directness and clarity of thought which amazed me, he plunged into a detailed account of what Georg was to do in command of our forces. My own part in it, already planned by him in detail. Maida's part. Elza's. The division of Rhaal maidens. Girlhood in war! It seemed very strange.
Tarrano was on his feet behind us, with folded arms; and as he looked down, I saw on his face also the face which a few moments before had been grim with deadly menace a look now of gentle compassion very much like Maida's. "No use," he said softly. "We can do nothing. He will die." Again Wolfgar's eyes opened. "Die of course." He tried to raise one of his burned hands, but dropped it back. "Die?
Encouraging the people. Maida's voice, futilely attempting to broadcast over the uproar. Georg commanding the official air-vessels to load with refugees; himself struggling to direct the jam of boats toward the embarking stages. We were in the instrument room of the palace. The air was pale-blue, though I had closed every casement.
The slaans along the fringe of shore began hurriedly to embark. The groups huddled at the palace steps were trying to shove the others back. In a rout they tumbled into their boats and scurried away. Maida's voice, striving to reassure them, was unheard. And presently the scarred, trampled garden was empty and silent. The rebellion, checked thus at its start, was quelled.
But they would not hear her. Shouts went up; a roar of threats. The press of additions to the mob landing from other boats, forced the front ranks forward. They were now on the palace steps, jammed there waving their weapons yet still hesitating to advance. "Slaans my people " Maida's frail voice was lost in the uproar.
They weren't there, and I ran back to Maida's door, thinking it just possible, to play me a trick as she was cross she might have hidden my things while I was on deck. But she'd gone off and the things were nowhere.
From behind, I could hear Maida's voice from moment to moment, as she talked to Mamma or Sir Ralph, innocently unsuspicious of any hidden danger. "Isn't it all wonderful?" she was saying. "Day before yesterday we left riotous, tumultuous summer on the Riviera; found autumn in the Roya valley, chill and grim, though so magnificent; and came into winter snows this morning.
Yet, as I knew, with a loved one absent upon whom one's thoughts dwell constantly in time of stress telepathy is occasionally automatically established. It was so in Georg and Maida's case, back there in the Mountain Station on Earth.
His gaze found Maida's face. "Oh, yes I can see you Princess Maida. You're not crying that's good. There's nothing to cry about." He seemed for a moment to gather a little strength; he moved his head and saw Tarrano standing there behind us. "Master?" He used the old term with a whimsical smile. "I called you that for a long time, didn't I? You have a right to consider me a traitor "
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