“You have decided?” he said to us.
“Yes,” said Atar.
Fear seemed to have dropped from our young prince. For the first time since we left Rax, he dominated Caan and me. He stood now fronting Og unflinching—his face white and set, his eyes smouldering.
But his lips were smiling. “We do not desire death,” he said. “We will return to Rax, and she will give the promise you ask.”
He turned to Nona, signing her to speak. “You will trust him to send us safely to Rax?” he added.
“No!” cried Nona. And she added, with a flow of woman’s words, the proposal we had planned—her insistence that she be taken along to see us safely into Marinoid waters.
Og listened silently. Then he gazed from one to the other of us. The crafty smile on his face made my heart sink.
“You think perhaps to escape with her on the journey?” he suggested. And when we did not answer, his arm waved away the idea. “I shall take care that you do not.” Then to Nona: “You speak well, my queen. For your promise I will do much. You shall go.”
Again he was silent, pondering. I could almost see some new murderous scheme taking form in his brain. He added suddenly: