“Just what do you mean?” asked Cabot.
Doggo explained: “You have cited the intense loyalty of the princess royal. Also you have expressed an opinion that Yuri would prefer Lilla to the throne. Then would it not be natural for him to offer to abdicate in favor of your candidate, Toron, in return for Lilla’s marrying him upon your sudden decease, which could be conveniently arranged? Such a settlement would bring permanent peace to this harassed continent, and every one would be happy—except, of course, Lilla and you. But you would be dead in the Elysian fields beyond the boiling seas, and she would be upheld by the consciousness of her noble martyrdom.”
“My God!” Myles exclaimed, “she might accept that.”
“Never fear, I shall not suggest it,” the ant man replied, “for I am still your friend to that extent, in spite of the warfare between our two countries.”
Cabot heaved a sigh of relief.
“And what of Formis?” he asked.
“Oh,” answered Doggo, “she is not the great Formis whom you knew. That Formis is dead. This queen is merely a newly-hatched one, who does pretty much as Yuri suggests.”
The conversation then veered into personal reminiscences; the two former friends, now captor and captive, each recounting what had befallen him since their last meeting before the previous war.
As Cabot told of his age-long journey northward to rejoin his army, the ant remarked dryly, “Poblath will have to invent a proverb to the effect that ‘You cannot kill a Minorian.’”
Cabot laughed and said, “He has already done so.”