"Do you think I am lying? This is your last chance. When you see your armies burn to cinders before your eyes, see your fields and towns incinerated, then it will be too late to bargain. Then you will come to me with pleas for peace, but I shall not hear you."
His eyes fell upon her again possessively. "Then I shall not honor you with the title of princess, Oomith of Toom. Woe to the conquered.
"You forget the matter of scientific progress, Toomians. We left your stupid notions of international relations behind long ago. If you surrender now, I guarantee the land of Toom the same care as I bestow upon Nimbor; otherwise, it shall be treated as a conquered province."
He stood up glaring. "I give you your last chance. Yield now!"
She rose lightly, as did the others, meeting his gaze with eyes steady and unafraid. "Toom does not yield. Earn your victory if you can; we are ready." A chorus of assents indicated that she spoke for all.
Aald bowed with an exaggerated gesture, swept a final lecherous glance in her direction, then withdrew as Danuth rang a bell signaling attendants. Once the other had gone, he sank back into the chair, his eyes passing from one official to another. She gripped his hand.
"Do you think he can do as he claims?"
"I greatly fear so. The reports from our agents sound incredible—almost like wizardry. A projector that casts an invisible light, causing whomsoever it touches to die at once, as if boiling to death. If they be true, then Toom is lost."
Down below, in another part of the palace, the emissaries of Nimbor prepared to depart. Aald was whispering to one. What he said was scarcely understood, but the smiles on the faces of both could be taken as indicative.