Part 22 (1/2)
And then he offered us a sort of pseudo-liberty. We might all come and go about the Great City at will. Apparently--to the public eye--allied to Tarrano. The Princess Maida--as before--hereditary honored ruler; with Tarrano guiding the business affairs of State, as on Earth our Presidents and their Councils rule the legendary Kings and Queens. The one ruling in fact; the other, an affair of pretty sentiment.
It was this condition which Tarrano now desired to bring about. With Georg already beloved for his medical knowledge; and flying rumors (started no doubt by Tarrano) that the handsome Earth man would some day marry their Princess.
Myself--the irony of it!--I was appointed a sort of bodyguard to the Lady Elza--the little Earth girl whose presence in the Great City would help conciliate the Earth and bring about universal peace--with Venus in control.
So ran the popular fancy, guided by Tarrano. We were given our pseudo-liberty, watched always by the unseen eyes of Tarrano's guards.
And there was nothing we could do but accept our status. Tarrano was guiding his destiny cleverly. Yet underneath it all, unseen forces were at work. We sensed them. The _slaans_--submissive at their menial tasks, but everywhere with sullen, resentful glances. Perhaps Tarrano realized his danger; but I do not think that he, any more than the rest of us, realized what the Water Festival was to bring forth.
That night--our first night on Venus--midway between the darkness of sunset and the dawn--we buried Wolfgar. The air was soft and warm, with a gentle breeze that riffled the placid waters of the lake. Overhead, the sky gleamed with a myriad stars--reddish stars, all of them like Red Mars himself as seen through the heavy Venus atmosphere. Largest of them, the Earth. My birthplace! Save Elza here with me on Venus, that tiny red spot in the heavens, red like the tip of a lighted arrant-cylinder, held all that was dear to me!
The funeral cortege--a solemn line of panoplied boats, started from the palace. Boats hung with purple fabric. In single file they wended their way through the city streets. From every landing, balcony, window and roof-top, the people stared down at us. The street corners were hung with shaded tubes of light, s.h.i.+ning down with spots of color to the water.
As we pa.s.sed, the people bowed their heads, hands to their foreheads, palms outward. The gesture of grief. From one building came a low musical chant.
”Honor to Wolfgar! The man who gave his life for our Princess. Honor to Wolfgar!”
We came to the edge of the city. The lake here narrowed to a river--a length of winding river opening to the pond which was the burial place of Eternal Peace. On Tarrano's barge, with Elza and Georg, we led the way. Maida was not with us. I asked Tarrano where she was, but solemnly he denied me.
At the burial waters--on the sloping banks of which a silent throng had gathered--we landed. And following us, the other vessels of the cortege came along and stopped beside us. The pond was dotted with white markers for the graves. The whole scene unlighted, save for the stars, and the red and purple aural lights of the Venus heavens, which mounted the sky at this midnight hour. A great, glowing arc--the reflected glow from a myriad cl.u.s.ter of tiny moons and moon-dust, encircling Venus. The soft light from it flooded the water and the tombs with a flush of red and purple.
As we lay there against the bank, with that silent throng breathlessly watching, from down the river came the last vessel of our cortege. It made a scene I shall never forget. The bier. Draped in purple. A single, half-naked _slaan_ propelling it with a sweep from its stern. The body of Wolfgar lying on its raised prow--his dead, white face, with peace upon it. Beside the body, the lone figure of Maida, kneeling at Wolfgar's head, with her white, braided hair falling down over her shoulders. Kneeling and staring, almost expressionless; but I knew that with her whole heart she was speeding the soul of Wolfgar to its eternal peace.
CHAPTER XX
_Unseen Menace_
That day following the burial of Wolfgar, there was nothing of importance occurred. No news from the Earth could get in. I felt that the Earth might be planning an attack. Probably was, since war had been declared. Yet that of course was months away.
Tarrano apparently was engaged in the pleasurable triumph of the coming Water Festival. All day he seemed engaged in planning it. But I knew that he was engaged secretly with far sterner things concerning the Cold Country, which lay a day's journey from us. But what they were, I did not know.
The Water Festival was all we talked of. That afternoon, Tarrano describing it, said smilingly:
”They say it is for me. But, Lady Elza--it is _I_ who plan it--for you.
You have not seen the Red Woman.” A gleam of amus.e.m.e.nt played upon his lips; but as he regarded Elza, I saw another look--of speculation, as though he were gauging her.
”The Red Woman, Lady Elza. She will preside tonight. You will find her--very interesting. We will watch her together, you and I.”
I did not know then what he meant; but I remembered the words later, and understood only too well.
Just after sundown, when I chanced to be in a small boat alone, near the palace, the first of two significant incidents occurred. From the shadows beneath a house, the head of a swimming man emerged. A _slaan_, and he gripped the sides of my boat as I drifted.
”Wait, Earth man.” He spoke in the quaint universal language, which I understood, though imperfectly.
I gazed at him. A bullet-like head, with sullen, blazing eyes. He added: ”We do not blame you--or your woman, Elza--or the Princess Maida. Have no fear, but guard yourself well tonight.”
Before I could speak he had sunk into the water, swimming beneath it. I could see the phosph.o.r.escence of his moving body as he swam away into the shadows beyond my line of vision.