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 amusement 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 phosphorescence of his moving body as he swam away into the shadows beyond my line of vision.

The other incident came a moment later. As I was gazing down into the water I saw a moving metal shape. A triangular metal head, as of a diver’s cap. More than that, it turned upward; and behind its pane was a man’s face. Unfamiliar to me--yet the face of an Anglo-Saxon man of Earth! Unmistakable! It stared at me a moment--no more than three or four feet below my boat. And then it moved away and vanished.

I had no opportunity to speak alone with Elza, or Georg or Maida that entire evening. Always Tarrano was with us. We sat upon the palace balcony, we men smoking our arrant-cylinders. Tarrano talked and joked like a care-free youth. He was very courteous to Elza, with a holiday spirit upon him. But his eyes never relaxed; and often I could see him measuring her.

The aural lights mounted the sky. The holiday spirit which was on Tarrano was spreading everywhere throughout the city. Boats gayly bedecked--in such contrast to the funeral cortege of poor Wolfgar just the night before--began passing the palace on their way to the festival waters. Men and laughing girls thronged them. All with red masks covering their faces. The men in grey tight-fitting garments, with conical caps and flowing plumes; the girls in bright-colored, flowing robes, and tresses dangling with flowers entwined in them.

The balcony upon which we sat was close above the water level. The barges, of every size and kind, glided past. Sometimes the girls would shower us with flower petals. One small boat paused before us. A girl stood up to wave at me. Her hand, held up with the loose robe falling back from her slim white arm, offered me a huge scarlet blossom. The love offering. As I hesitated, her laughter rippled out. She tore the mask from her face. Her red mouth was smiling; her eyes, provocative, were dancing with mischief. She tossed the flower into my face as her escort, with a shout of mock anger, pulled her back to him.