It was just that he hesitated to tell her that he would be leaving her. The idea of hurting her was agony to him.
He started to speak in English, caught himself, and switched to her language. "Those vessels—they have brought my people from across the space between the stars. I came to this world in just such a vessel, a spaceroller, you might say. My ship crashed, and I was forced to descend upon this—your—world. Then, I heard that another ship had landed near Estorya and that King Raussmig had put the crew in prison and was going to sacrifice them during the Festival of the Sun's Eye. I had little time to get to Estorya before that happened, so I talked Miran into taking me. That was why I left you, that...."
He trailed off because he did not understand the expression upon her face. It was not the great hurt he'd expected, nor the wild fury he thought might result from his explanation. If anything, she looked pitying.
"Why, Alan, whatever are you talking about?"
He pointed at the line of spaceships.
"They're from Terra, my home planet."
"I don't understand what you mean by your home planet," she replied still pityingly. "But those are not spaceships. Those are the towers built by the Estoryans a thousand years ago."
"Wha-what do you mean?"
Stunned, he looked at them again. If those weren't starships he'd eat the yacht's canvas. Yes, and the wheels, too.
Under the swift wind, the 'roller swept closer and closer while he stood behind Amra and thought that he'd break into little pieces if his tension didn't find some release.