“Then don’t,” I answered brusquely, and stooped to turn on the playback.
He gathered his powers, in great weariness. “If you see that message,” he warned, “I must kill you for my honor.”
I thought back to my boyhood. There had been various short, pungent, purely English words in common use. I selected one and pronounced it. From the corner of an eye, as I squatted by the dials, I saw his jaw fall. He sank back into his chair. I pronounced another English word for good measure.
“Your honor lies in the well-being of your people,” I added. “You’re not fit to judge anything which can so shake you as this. Sit down and let me hear it.”
He huddled into himself. I turned a switch. Sir Owarn’s face leaped into the screen. I saw that be was also gaunt, the handsomeness less evident, the eyes thy and burning. He spoke in formal, courteous wise, but could not hide his exultation.
I cannot remember his exact words. Nor do they matter. He told his lord what had happened. He was now in space, with the stolen ship. He had approached close to New Avalon to beam this call but taken to his heels again immediately it was spoken. There was no hope of finding him in that vastness. If we yielded, he said, he would arrange the transportation home of our folk, and Branithar assured him the Wersgor emperor would promise to keep hands off Terra. If we did not yield, the recreant would go to Wersgorixan and reveal the truth about us. Then, if necessary, the foe could recruit enough French or Saracen mercenaries to destroy us; but probably the demoralization of our allies, as they learned our weakness, would suffice to bring them to terms. In either case, Sir Roger would never see his wife and children again.
Lady Catherine entered the screen. I recall her words. But I do not choose to write them down. When the record was ended~ I wiped it out myself.
We were silent awhile, my lord and I.
At last: “Well,” he said, like an old man.
I stared at my feet. “Montbelle said they would reenter communication range at a certain hour tomorrow, to bear your decision,” I mumbled. “’Twould be possible to send numerous . unmanned ships, loaded with explosive fused by a magnetic nose, along that far-speaker beam. Belike he could be destroyed.”
“You’ve already asked much of me, Brother Parvus,” said Sir Roger. Still his words had no life in them. “Ask me not to slay my lady and children unshriven.”
“Aye. Ah, could the vessel be captured? No,” I answered myself. “Twould be a practical impossibility. Any single shot which struck close enough to a little ship like that would more likely make dust of it than merely disable its engines. Or else the damage would be small, and he would at once flee faster than light.”
The baron raised his congealed face. “Whatever happens,” he said, “no one is to know my lady’s part in this. D’you understand? She’s not in her right mind. Some fiend has possessed her.”
I regarded him with a pity still greater than before. “You’re too brave to hide behind such foolishness,” I said.
“Well, what can I do?” he growled.
“You can fight on—”
“Hopelessly, once Montbelle has gone to Wersgorixan.”
“Or you can accept the terms offered.”
“Ha! How long d’ you think the blueskins would actually leave Terra in peace?”
“Sir Owain must have some reason to believe they will,” I said cautiously.
“He’s a fool.” Sir Roger’s fist smote the arm of the chair. He sat up straight, and the harshness of his voice was a lonely token of hopefulness to me. “Or else he’s a blacker Judas than he has even confessed, and hopes to become viceroy after the conquest. See you not, ’tis more than the wish for land which’ll force the Wersgorix to overrun our planet. ’Tis the fact that our race has proven itself mortally dangerous. As yet, men are helpless at home. But given a few centuries to prepare, men might well build their own spaceships and overwhelm the universe.”
“The Wersorix have suffered in this war,” I argued feebly. “They II need time to regain what they have lost, even if our allies surrender all occupied worlds. They might very likely find it expedient to leave Terra alone for a hundred years or so.”
“Till we’re safely dead?” Sir Roger nodded heavily. “Aye, there’s the great temptation. The real bribe. Yet would we not burn in hell, if we thus broke faith with unborn children?”
“It may be the best we can do for our race,” I said. “Whatever lies beyond our own power is in the charge of God.”
“But no, no, no.” He twisted his hands together. “I can’t. Better to die now like men… Yet Catherine—” After another stillness, I said, “It may not be too late to dissuade Sir Owain. No soul is irredeemably lost while this life remains. You could recall his honor, and point out to him how foolish it is to rely on Wersgor promises, and offer him forgiveness and great position—”
“And the use of my wife?” he jeered.
But in a moment: “It may be. I’d far prefer spill his evil brains. But perhaps … aye, perhaps a talk… I would even try to humble myself. Will you aid me, Brother Parvus? I must not curse him to his face. Will you strengthen my spirit?”
Chapter XXI
The next evening, we departed New Avalon.
Sir Roger and I went alone, in a tiny unarmed space lifeboat. We ourselves were but little stronger. I had my cassock and rosary as always: no more. He was clad in a yeoman’s doublet and hose, though he wore sword and dagger and his gilt spurs were on his boots. His big form sat the pilot chair as it were a saddle, but his eyes, turned heavenward, were full of winter.
We had told our captains that this was only a short flight to view some special thing Sir Owain had fetched. The camp sensed a lie and rumbled with unease. Red John broke two quarterstaffs before he restored order. It seemed to me as I embarked that our enterprise was suddenly rusted. Men sat so quiet. It was a windless evening, our banners drooped on their staffs, and I noticed how faded and torn they were.
Our boat split the blue sky and entered blackness, like Lucifer expelled. Briefly I glimpsed a battleship, patrolling in orbit, and would have been much comforted to have those great guns at my back. But we must take only this helpless splinter. Sir Owain had made that clear, when we talked a second time along the far-speaker beam. “If you wish, de Tourneville, we’ll receive you for a parley. But you must come alone, in a plain lifeboat, and unarmed… Oh, very well, you can have your friar, too… I shall tell you what orbit to assume. At a certain point thereof, my ship will meet you. If my telescopes and detectors show any sign of treachery on your part, I’ll go straight to Wersgorixan instead.”
We accelerated outward through a silence that thickened. Once I ventured to say, “If you two can be reconciled, it will put heart back in our people. I think then they would be truly invincible.”
“Catherine and I?” barked Sir Roger.
“Why, I— I— I meant you and Sir Owain—” I stammered. But the truth opened up before me: I had indeed been thinking of the lady. Owain was nothing in himself. Sir Roger was the one on whom our whole fate rested. Yet he could not continue much longer, sundered from her who possessed his soul.
She, and the children they had had together, were the reason he came so meekly to beg Owain’s indulgence.
Outward and outward we fled. The planet shrank to a tarnished coin behind us. I had not felt so alone before, not even when we were first borne from our Earth.
But at last a few of the many stars were obscured. I saw the lean black form of the spaceship grow, as it matched velocities. We could have tossed a bombshell by hand and destroyed it. But Sir Owain knew well we would never do that, while Catherine and Robert and Matilda were aboard. Presently a magnetic grapnel clanked against our hull. The ships drew together, portal to portal, a cold kiss. We opened our own gates and waited.