The Rhaal City[22] lay a brief flight from us. A grave sort of people, these Rhaals. Men of square-cut, sober-colored garments; women of sober grey flowing robes—white hair coiled upon their heads. Intelligent women, dignified of demeanor; many of them learned as were the men.
Their city, teeming now with the preparations for war, was intensely interesting to me. We spent most of our days in it, flying back at nightfall to Maida's palace. Yet I shall not describe it, nor our preparations, our days of activity—but hasten on to the first of the extraordinary incidents impending.
It came—this first incident—through my thoughts of Elza. I was worried—more than worried, sometimes almost terrified about her. My instinct would have been to take a handful of men and dash to her rescue—which of course would have been absurd. I tried to reassure myself. Tarrano would treat her kindly. Soon, in full force, our army would descend upon the City of Ice, capture it, destroy Tarrano—rescue Elza.
Rescue Elza! Ah, there lay the difficulty which I never dared contemplate in detail. How would we rescue her? Tarrano would treat her kindly, now during his own security. But if, at the last, he saw his own defeat, his death perhaps impending—would he treat her kindly then?
I loved Elza very deeply. A new torture came from it now. Did she love me—or Tarrano? I remembered the gentleness of the man with her. His dignity, his power—his undoubted genius. And who, what was I? A mere news-gatherer. A man of no force, and little personality. A nonentity. Sometimes as in my jealousy I contemplated Elza with Tarrano now, I felt that he was everything a young girl would fancy. How could she help loving him?
At night, when sleep would not come to me, I would lie tossing, thinking of it. Did Elza love me—or Tarrano? Once I had thought she loved me. But she had never said so.
It was out of this constant thinking of Elza that the first of the incidents I have mentioned, arose. There came to me one night the feeling that Elza was near me. I awoke from half sleep to full wakefulness. In my bedroom, upon the low couch on which I lay, the aural lights of Venus spread their vivid tints. The palace was silent; I sat up, pressing my palms to my throbbing temples.
Elza was coming nearer to me!
I knew it. Not by any of my bodily senses. A knowledge, which suddenly I realized that I had. A moment, and then I was conscious of her voice! No sound; my ears heard nothing. Yet my brain was aware of familiar tones. I recognized them, as one can remember how a loved voice sounded when last it was heard.
But this was no memory. A present actuality; it rang soundless in my brain. Elza's voice. Anxious! Frightened!