“Select a girl to command them, under you,” I said swiftly. “And my Nona, you were wonderful.”
Her caress answered me.
“Give Boy to Caan’s woman, Nona—to take home. Kiss him for me—our Boy.”
Even in the haste of that moment, I remember how thankful I was that Boy was too young to fight. Yet Nona wished to fight, you exclaim! True—but can you guess how cold my heart was within me at the thought of it?
“Then, Nona, join me in the throne-room. We must go to the Cavern.”
I dispatched my couriers. And those I sent to spy upon the enemy carried with them my unspoken prayer that they would bring back word we had at least a few hours to prepare. A few hours! This Marinoid was a very little nation, as you would reckon it. Yet warfare cannot be planned upon such short notice.
CHAPTER XXVII
My duties at the palace for the moment were over. With Atar, Caan and Nona, I hurried to the Cavern. Atar led us—none of us others had ever been there.
It was not far from Rax—a broad entrance cunningly disguised with removable foliage. A tunnel, short and steeply downward, led us under the sea-bottom. It was dark. Lights at intervals illumined the water—dim, wavering lights, lending to everything a ghostly unreality.
Several times we were stopped; but at sight of Atar the guards let us pass. Ahead of us presently we could see more open water—a broad shallow amphitheatre, artificially lighted. Figures were moving about in it, busy at various tasks. Human figures—most of them, but not all. Some were dolphins. And then I saw a great cage within which two or three hundred of the graceful creatures were swimming idly about.