King Humphrey shrugged. He spoke in a listless voice.
"I doubt it differs from ours. You captured a passenger-liner off Mekin, you will remember. You sent it here. When it arrived we found that all its passengers knew that Kandar was not occupied and that the fleet sent to capture it had not reported back."
"My news is worse," said Bors. "The continued existence of our fleet, and the fact that it defeated a Mekinese force, is common knowledge on at least five planets—all of them now in revolt against Mekin."
The king's expression had reached the limit of reaction to disaster. It did not change. He looked almost apathetic.
"Mekin," he said dully, "sent a second squadron to Kandar to investigate the rumors of defeat. We have a very tiny force there—three ships. Of course our ships won't attack the Mekinese, but they might as well. Knowing that we destroyed their first fleet and that we still live, Mekin will assuredly retaliate."
"And not only on Kandar," said Bors. "On Tralee and Garen and Cassis and Meriden—"
Morgan interrupted.
"Majesty! All this is more reason to listen to me! I've been telling you that all my Talents agree—"
King Humphrey interrupted tonelessly, "We've made our final arrangements, Bors. We are going to release the cargo-ships and the passenger-ship you sent us. We will use them as messengers. We are going to send a message of surrender, to Mekin."
Bors swallowed. His most dismal forebodings had produced nothing more hopeless than this moment.