I shall never forget that scene. To make you appreciate it, I shall have to remind you that never before in the reign of this King had an enemy menaced his domains. And this Marinoid civilization—as I now realize it to have been—was very primitive.
In a word, our King at this crisis was flurried. His preparations for war were in truth but vague and impractical. The Marinoids did not know the meaning of an army. Maagogs were coming to kill them; Marinoids must fight in defense.
That was the extent of the King’s plans. He sat in his carved shell on the throne-platform, and we others crowded around him anxiously. Outside the palace, the shouts of the frightened mob floated in to us through the water.
“The Maagogs!” said Atar. “They are coming through the coral barrier! Our guards there have been defeated—killed most of them—and the rest have fled.”
“Coming here?” I asked. “Will they come here to Rax, do you think?”
The King looked at us hopelessly. “Here—to Rax? They cannot. I am not ready. We must arm to repulse them. They must not come so soon.”
“Before this Time of Sleep is over they will be here,” Caan declared gloomily.
Two of the King’s Councillors appeared swimming into the room—old men, terrified nearly out of their wits. They huddled down beside us; and one of them said:
“At the Cavern, my King, they are waiting your orders.”
The shouts outside grew louder, more insistent.