“You are right,” he said. “I can. My people and my queen have entrusted me with this power. My orders are that no bee who has set foot in this fortress shall leave it alive. I shall keep faith with my people.”
After a pause he added softly as if to himself: “I have learned by bitter experience how faithlessness can hurt—when Loveydear forsook me....”
Little Maya was overcome. She did not know what to say. Ah, the same sentiments moved her, too—love of her own kind, loyalty to her people. Nothing to be done here but to use force or strategy. Each did his duty, and yet each remained an enemy to the other.
But hadn’t the sentinel mentioned a name? Hadn’t he said something about someone’s having been unfaithful to him? Loveydear—why, she knew Loveydear—the beautiful dragon-fly who lived at the lakeside among the waterlilies.
Maya quivered with excitement. Here, perhaps, was her salvation. But she wasn’t quite sure how much good her knowledge would be to her. So she said prudently:
“Who is Loveydear, if I may ask?”
“Never mind, little one. She’s not your affair, and she’s lost to me forever. I shall never find her again.”
“I know Miss Loveydear.” Maya forced herself to put the utmost indifference into her tone. “She belongs to the family of dragon-flies and she’s the loveliest lady of all.”
A tremendous change came over the warrior. He seemed to have forgotten where he was. He leapt over to Maya’s sides as if blown by a violent gust.