~ * ~
It was probably in a dream that Jamie thought he saw Quanna come down the slanting valley, picking her way with delicate steps and holding her familiar green velvet cloak up to clear her scarlet shoes. She was carrying a white scarf like a flag.
Unexpectedly the rainbow shimmering of the Knute began to fade. The illusion of unreality trembled a moment longer over the valley and was gone, and Jamie blinked to see the illusion of Quanna still there, looking up at him diffidently under her emerald hood and holding the white scarf up like a banner.
He kicked his horse into a trot and went forward a little way to meet her, not at all sure what he would say when he did. He could feel Morgan’s eyes on his back and was angrier at her just now for making him a fool before Morgan than for anything she had done before.
He reined in silently and sat looking down at her without a word. His black-browed scowl was forbidding. Quanna put all the delicate submissiveness she could summon into her voice. She was twisting the improvised white flag between her hands with a nervousness that might or might not be assumed.
“Lord, will you hear a message from Vastari?”
Her voice was very sweet. There had been a time when Jamie might have softened to hear it; lethargy was all that possessed him now. He said nothing, only nodded shortly.
“I have persuaded Vastari,” she said, “that because I saved your life once and still hold an unfulfilled promise from you, and because you have had a warning already from the Knute, you will put down all your weapons if Vastari lets you go free to the spaceport.”
Jamie laughed harshly. “How far do you think I trusts Vastari — or you?”
“He could kill you,” she reminded him in her sweet, reflective voice. “You, and most of your men. The Knute is too well hidden to find soon, and too well barricaded to take in time, even if you found it. I know how weak the helmets are against the killing strength of the Knute. No, you must bargain, Jamie dear. But not with Vastari.” She came forward with a lovely, swaying motion to lay both narrow pale hands upon his knee, tilting up her face.
“I can’t let you go without me, Jamie dear.” Her voice quivered as musically as a harp string. “This is the only way I know to make you listen. Jamie, if you take me back to Earth with you, I can save you from Vastari. No, listen!” Her fingers clasped his knee as she saw anger darken the face above her. “Listen, Jamie! If you won’t listen for your own sake, remember your men. Earth needs them, Jamie — you’ve told me about that! Let me go back to Vastari and say you’ll give your weapons up — at the spaceport! I can make him believe that. Let me ride with you. When we reach Port City—”
“What’s to prevent him killing us then?” demanded Jamie, his voice harsh. “He won’t let us out of range, for all your lies.”
“Oh, Jamie, believe me! Would I risk your life now, when I’ve saved it? I can control Vastari — I can! But I can’t tell you how. Jamie, I’ll ride with you . . . would I do that if there was any danger? Jamie . . . I . . . I—”
Her face and her voice both quivered suddenly. He saw her lift her hands to her eyes and a look of terror and confusion went over her features. The whole valley began to swim again in a rainbow shimmer, and sound and sight distorted faintly even with the helmet’s protection. Vastari had turned the Knute on — on Quanna and the Earthmen.
~ * ~
Bewilderment made Jamie’s mind blank for a moment. Why would even Vastari risk so safe a bargain as he thought his sister was making, sacrifice her wantonly with the Earthmen for no reason at all? For no reason—
Then he saw his own men moving to the left against the swaying backdrop of the waterfalls that flanked Vastari’s ravine, heard the shouts of their officers, and knew that someone had blundered inexcusably. Morgan? Morgan who distrusted Quanna and the commander’s weakness, and had taken fatal advantage of the delay to attempt storming the Knute up the ravine?
Jamie had no way of knowing, and in spite of himself was savagely glad that Morgan had done it — if he had. The weight was off Jamie now — he had no impossible decision to make — whether to trust Quanna, whether to risk his men, whether to surrender to her pleading as he wanted to do and dared not.
He spurred his restive horse and swung violently around to the ravine, shouting to her over his shoulder: “I’ll make my own bargain with Vastari!”
Quanna reeled back in a shower of sand from the padded hoofs, screaming above the shouts of the charging soldiers: “Jamie . . . Jamie, wait! He can’t hurt you, Jamie! The Gilson — I have it! Jamie, Jamie, you’ll be killed!”
But if he heard any of that illogical cry he did not believe or heed it. The soft thudding of hoofbeats in sand, and Jamie’s shouts mingling with the voices of his men, were all that came back to her. She stood staring as the last Terrestrial Patrol on Venus made its last sortie into the mountains in pursuit of outlaw natives.
The range of the Knute followed them. Her own terror and confusion faded as the vibrations died around her, but they did not fade entirely. She watched until the last man vanished up the ravine between the waterfalls. Then, for lack of anything else to do, she began to brush the sand from her cloak with long, unconscious motions.
If Venusians were given to tears, Quanna would have wept then. It had all gone so well up to this vital point. The plan itself had been simple enough — to give Vastari the emasculated Knute and let him ambush the Terrestrials, thinking he could kill them with the vibrations when he chose. Vastari had not wanted to bargain with the Earthmen, but she had convinced him of that necessity, too, in the end. And she had been sure Jamie would surrender. She had seen it in his face, deep down, under the anger and distrust — because he must take his men back to earth. He could not throw their lives away here for an ideal, and he had known he must surrender in the end, even if it meant lies and a broken bargain at the spaceport.
Neither he nor Vastari, of course, had guessed that the Knute was harmless to kill. She had not trusted Vstari that far, and she had been right indeed. Anger shook her briefly out of her lethargy. Vastari had been ready to sacrifice her, then — if he must — her usefulness was ended now. He had no way of knowing that under her robe she was clutching the Gilson fuse which made his weapon only a dangerous toy.
She smiled a thin, malicious smile even in the midst of her anxiety over Jamie. Vastari must be an astonished man just now. His deadly weapon powerless, enemies charging up the ravine, his men scattering before the gunfire of the Terrestrials — Vastari would be retreating already. With the Knute or without it. The Venusians would not stand long against Earthmen suddenly and uncannily impervious to the supposedly deadly vibrations of the Knute.
But it might be long enough to ruin all that Quanna had planned for. It might be long enough for an arrow or a spear to find a chink of Jamie’s cuirass. Vastari’s men were such excellent spearmen—
And she could do nothing now but wait.
~ * ~
Faintly, far up among the twisting ravines, the noises of battle reached a climax and wore themselves out. Quanna sat down on a flat stone close beside one of the waterfalls, hearing the thin threnody of its music above the diminishing sounds from overhead.
She did not hear the nearer padding of a horse’s hoofs coming up the valley until it was nearly upon her, and a harsh, hissing voice said:
“Quanna!” There was a subtle excitement in the voice that was not wholly explicable.
She looked up, startled almost — but not quite — out of her self-possession. Then she cried: “Ghej! What . . . why—”
He smiled. “So Vastari did attack here,” he nodded, glancing about the trampled valley floor where the Terrestrials had thrown off their packs for fighting in the mountains. “I was almost sure he would. The old cave’s so near, for one thing. What happened?”
She told him, keeping her voice level. He sat listening, his hands folded on the saddlebow and his opaque, old eyes piercing under the horny lids. When she had finished he nodded gravely.
“Yes — I knew it would be something like that the day you stole the Knute. There had to be something other than simple theft in what you did. So it was all a bluff, eh? Well—” He slanted an upward glance toward the labyrinth of ravines above them, and then swung off his horse a little stiffly. “I’ll wait with you until — something happens.”
“But why did you come?” Quanna returned belatedly to her first questions.
Ghej shook his crested head.
“Something’s happened — I can’t tell you yet.”
She looked at him curiously from under her lashes, and saw now on the leathery, old face the same repressed excitement she had heard in his voice. Excitement, and something like dread. But she knew there was no use in questioning him.
She did not move again until she heard voices and sliding footsteps up in the ravine. The she got up and stood quite still in her green cloak against the thin, green veil of the waterfall, waiting.
By twos and threes, carrying their wounded, the Terrestrials came straggling back to the valley. Jamie was not among them.
He was almost the last to return. He came very wearily, alone, one arm hanging in the improvised sling of his unbuttoned tunic and the blood still dripping from what was probably an arrow wound.
Quanna took one involuntary step toward him and then stopped. Jamie looked at her phlegmatically, saying nothing. She saw in his face that he had ceased to believe or trust anything she might do, and he was clinging to the protection his lethargy offered him.
Then he saw Ghej, and his face came alive again.
“Ghej? What’s happened? Did you change your mind? I—”
“Tell me first how the battle went,” Ghej suggested. “And let Quanna dress your arm. Were the arrows poisoned, Quanna?”
“Some were,” said Quanna. “May I help you, Jamie? Please.”
He shrugged and sat down on the flat stone. “All right. Dressings in any of the packs. There’s one lying over there.”
She went humbly to get it. When she returned Jamie was talking in a tired monotone to the Martian. He submitted to her swabbing and bandaging without notice except for a caught breath now and then.
“They got away, of course,” he was saying. “With the Knute. Had it barricaded up the ravine, but not well enough. Depending on the vibrations, I suppose, but the damned fools didn’t know about the inert fuse and couldn’t step it up beyond the first strength.”
“I know,” Ghej nodded. “Quanna has just told me — she had the Gilson fuse herself, commander.”
Quanna looked up over the bandage she was fastening and met Jamie’s startled eyes, an uncertain little smile on her lips.
“I tried to tell you,” she reminded him gently. “You see, I really didn’t mean to have you killed.”
His black scowl at her was mostly bewilderment now. “But you said . . . I thought. . . . I’m sorry, Quanna. But I still don’t understand why—”
“Don’t try now.” She laid a cool hand on his cheek. “No fever yet? Then I think there was no poison. You’ll be able to ride on to Port City, Jamie dear. What about me?”
He frowned a little and took the hand in his. “Not yet, Quanna. Before I go I’ve got one score to settle. I’m going to find Vastari and get back that Knute if it’s the last thing I ever do.”
Surprisingly, part of the unconscious tension that showed on Ghej’s face suddenly relaxed. “Of course!” he exclaimed. “Find Vastari! Commander, I think I can lead you to him.”
~ * ~
Quanna and Jamie stared at the old Martian incredulously. He had been in the confidence of both enemy camps for so long, and each side had come to trust so thoroughly in his impartial neutrality— After a moment Jamie said:
“Did I understand you, Ghej?”
“I want to lead you to Vastari,” reiterated the Martian impatiently. “I think I know where he’s gone. Venusians always scatter after a rout and meet again later at the leader’s hiding place. Vastari will have gone to an old cave near here where he used to play as a boy. He’s used it before for a rallying point. But he should be alone there now for an hour or more. I know the place well — it’s quite near here. I’ll—”
“But, Ghej,” interrupted Jamie, “I’m going to kill him. Don’t you understand? I know Vastari’s your friend.”
“I’ll lead you to him,” Ghej persisted stubbornly.
“Forgive me,” hesitated Jamie, “but I’ve had too much treachery lately — or thought I had.” He flashed a glance at Quanna. “You’ve never interfered with either side in this business, Ghej. I don’t—”
“There’ll be no treachery,” Ghej promised him. “I swear that, commander. I’ll lead you, alone, to Vastari. I promise he’ll be alone, too. I promise that no Venusians will interfere on his behalf. I promise all that by the symbol of old Mars” — and he sketched the ancient crook-sign in the air.
Jamie pinched his lip and stared at the old man under black brows. There was something elaborately wrong here. He had been aware of the subtle excitement in Ghej’s manner ever since they had met, and he knew the Martian was concealing something important. If Ghej was suddenly forsaking Vastari, there was every reason to expect that he might betray Jamie, too—
And yet to meet Vastari face to face before he left Venus was worth a risk. And he had never known a Martian to lie by the sacred crook-symbol of the old world. Sudden recklessness made him shrug and say:
“I’ll risk it, Ghej. Only I’ll warn my men first. They’ll be after me if I’m not back soon. You must tell me where the cave is, Ghej, so they can follow if I don’t come back.”
Ghej nodded. “I can trust you in that.”
Quanna’s eyes had been following the conversation from face to face. All this talk of promises and trust seemed foolhardy, particularly with the stakes involved. She was utterly bewildered by Ghej’s sudden about-face after a life of neutrality, but she could see clearly enough that there was some strong motive behind it.
All this was unimportant. The heartbreaking thing was that she had failed. She had played her last trick upon Jamie and lost the game. There was no longer any lever she could use to force her way upon the ship that would take him back to Earth, unless — unless—
And then a sudden, blazing idea burst upon her, and she saw how simply and easily she might have gained her one desire by a means so simple it had never occurred to her. For once Vastari knew she had deliberately betrayed him to Jamie, her life would not be safe upon Venus and Jamie would be bound in duty to take her away with him. The simplicity of it was beautiful. Only — there must be witnesses to her treachery, so that the story would spread among Vastari’s men. Or else Vastari himself must not die—
“Let me go with you,” she asked the two men softly, her mind already spinning with devious plans. They gave her a look of doubtful scrutiny. “I won’t interfere,” she promised. “I’ve no love for Vastari, after what he tried to do to me in the valley. Please let me go.” Her voice took on the note of irresistible pleading sweetness that Jamie remembered well, and he grinned suddenly. But before he could speak:
“Very well,” said Ghej, after a moment of hesitation. “It might be well to have you there.” She knew by that he was fitting her into whatever scheme was in his own mind. She lowered her lids demurely and thanked them both.
~ * ~
Vastari’s hiding place was a narrow cavern high up in the scarred valley wall, its mouth veiled by green vines thickly abloom with purple trumpet flowers. Ghej left his two companions behind an outcropping and went in alone. The two waited in silence for his return, each too deeply immersed in speculation to speak yet about what still had to be said between them.
Jamie was too much exulted by the prospect of meeting Vastari at last to think as much as he should of Ghej’s inexplicable conduct, or of his own weariness or the pain of his wounded arm. He had never performed an execution before, but he felt no scruple now about shotting down an unsuspecting man in cold blood. It would not b
e a man he killed in the cavern — it would be Venusian anarchy itself. It would mean a little longer peace for the people of Darva and Port City and the other Terrestrial settlements of these mountains. Since he could not leave the cities those weapons which Earth must have, he could at least remove the organized menace which made the weapons necessary.
He was having a daydream. He was thinking that perhaps with Vastari dead, no new leader would rise soon— Perhaps the Terrestrialized cities inside their fortifications would be proof against scattered raids; perhaps in the face of necessity those skilled workmen who had labored under Terrestrial orders might labor of their own volition to reproduce the weapons Earth used to furnish them. Perhaps—
“Commander!” It was Ghej’s whisper from beyond their shelter. “He’s alone. He has the Knute with him. Follow me, commander.”
Belated caution made Jamie hesitate for one last moment. There was still that look of intense, suppressed excitement about the old Martian, and the undernote of sadness in his voice that Jamie had never heard before. He had a sudden memory of that dream of his, and the curious notion which had followed it that Ghej was gray-cloaked Death reaching out its hand for him.
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