"Ilse is a woman who loves you. Her love is inclined to blind her."
Kortha swung the hammer idly in his hand, eying the sunlight play across it. He took a stride toward Yassa, and another.
"Come, Xax," he called. "It is easy to talk and walk at the same time."
The tumblie rolled along beside him. They went out into the hot red sands, their shadows before them. Kortha fixed his eyes on the white blot that was Yassa, and his long legs lengthened their stride. Sand crunched faintly under his sandalled feet, releasing tiny clouds of red dust at every step.
"Eons ago Mars was a cultured world, Xax. They had everything, our ancestors. Even you tumblies possessed your own civilization. The ancients had power, and weapons long since forgotten by the clans that descended from the survivors of the Great War.
"Wars are useless things, but they must be fought as long as there are men to quarrel. Who says otherwise is a fool. But the Great War—ahh, that was a war. They used things to fight with that we have long ago lost, and that Earth and Venus have never known. Mars is older than either and had more time to develop them. Our ancestors fought and destroyed: men and machines and cities. They left little. Among the things they did not leave was the knowledge of their arts and sciences. Mars had to build again, from scratch."
Their shadows crept behind them as they walked.
"Today Mars is a weak Confederacy of clans, ruled by a prince I crippled for life. Guantra hopes to rule that Confederacy, but Guantra is a cautious man. He would never dare usurp the throne unless he were sure of victory. So sure of such a complete victory that he need fear neither Earth nor Venus.
"There is only one thing that would make Guantra so confident."
A pool of clear blue water lay in a little hollow ahead of them. Kortha put his palms to the hard sand that packed its edge and lowered himself to his belly. Immersing his lips in the cold spring water bubbling from hidden streams, he drank deeply. Xax lay to one side, watching him.