Altho was on his feet. He seemed to be warning Sonya back.
“No!” cried Ren. “Altho says no, they must not come! But they’re coming! Sonya and . . . she doesn’t say who’s coming.”
“What’s that?”
Altho and Jim stiffened. From the entrance passage a figure had emerged, a giant, hairy bruteman. He stood with swaying, dangling arms, green eyes blazing in the pale green cave light; a leer on his small flat face, a black tongue like an animal’s, licking his black lips with murderous anticipation!
XIII
CROWDED HOURS
“Sonya,” I exclaimed vehemently, “stay beside me! Don’t leave me!”
How I cursed my inability to speak this language during those crowded hours following the king’s death! At every turn, with every move I was handicapped, the force of my words lost since I had only a girl for mouthpiece.
Yet Sonya did well. The crowd in the garden had dispersed; Sonya had led the girls into cheering me. I had made a speech promising them justice in their cause, and sent them away, not to the Virgins’ Island, but peacefully back to the homes they had left. They were glad to go; there was no government now to force them into a distasteful marriage.
The guards had come before me, at first with an indecision, a sullenness, but the old men counsellors had swiftly abdicated.
“Tell them, Sonya, I want all their advice; whatever they think should be done, I will listen.” I strode up and down the huge audience chamber of the castle, while the old men watched me with whispered, frightened words among themselves.