“The strategems need not affect Yandro,” stated Gederr. “As for a simple single combat, I say that will be arranged. We broadcast, Yandro will remember, a warning and a challenge. The enemy has sent back a message that they are making ready a fighter to face anyone we can furnish.”
“I see,” said I. “Well, they speak my language.” Both Doriza and Gederr started violently, and stared. “Probably they are simple of battle-viewpoint, like me. They’ll blunder easily into your trap.” I said those last two words to assure Gederr that I considered the whole deception his. “Now, when is all this to happen?”
“Perhaps within twenty hours. Perhaps within thirty.”
“I feel like a puppet,” I said. “Like the figurehead poor Rohbar called me. Perhaps I am, and perhaps it is as well, because I’m not in tune with your strategy. Understand me, I see its need and its practicability. That is all I see, though.”
“Will Yandro walk forth?” asked Doriza. “There are troops waiting to be reviewed.”
We went into a corridor, and entered one of the purring vehicles. It took us away—toward the fighting sector, I judged—and I dismounted in a great low stretch of subterranean cavern. This was lighted by great glowing bulbs hung to the ceiling, and men were drawn up in triple rows, armed and at attention. An officer was speaking to them, and toward one side stood the two unarmed men, under guard.
“Not yet, mighty Yandro,” counselled Doriza beside me. “There is—a ceremony.”
I could hear the officer speaking, though not clearly:
“In this moment, the eve of certain triumph over the enemy, two men see fit to circulate lies that calculate to dismay and destroy our plans. For them is only one fate, as judged by the Council. Attention to that fate!”
The two unarmed men were marched forward. I stared and scowled.
“I’ve seen them before,” I said to Doriza. “The broad face of one—the figure of the other! Aren’t they—”
“Yes!” Doriza said tonelessly.
The officer lifted his hand, with a disintegrator pistol in it. Pale green rays leaped. The two familiar figures gyrated, great parts of them vanished. They fell, and two men carried the bodies away.
“They were the two guards I first met!” I cried.
“Yes,” she agreed softly. “Men who served under Rohbar, and who spoke rebelliously because Yandro killed him. They said that Yandro was not Yandro.”
I smiled ruefully. “From the first they didn’t seem to believe that. Nor did Rohbar. Nor did you, until Sporr identified me.” I looked into her blue eyes, calculatingly. “It comes to mind, Doriza, that of all who doubted me you are the only one left alive.”
“I, too, have thought that,” she said, and her voice was quiet but not frightened. “Perhaps my turn is next.”
I shook my head. “I seem to have power on Dondromogon, and I will not let you be destroyed without more warrant than I see now.”
“Yandro is kind,” she said.
“And Doriza is attractive,” I rejoined. “Well, that unpleasant little formality seems to be at an end. Shall we inspect the troops?”
So saying, I moved forward. The officer in charge saluted and accompanied me on my inspection. The first two ranks of soldiers were men of various builds and feature, solemn-looking fellows for the most part. The first rank was headed by Klob, whom I had named for Rohbar’s second last night. I was struck by the efficient air of their armor and equipment, as contrasted with their almost frail physiques. Again I thought, the stock of Dondromogon’s natives must be running down.
The third rank was women.
They, too, wore armor, and bore weapons and tools, but I judged that they were more of a reserve than a first fighting force. More thoughts coursed through my head—if my earlier memories were departed, they left the more room for recent happenings and speeches. The Council had insisted that it was necessary to keep the population of Dondromogon small, for the sake of good living. Yet it seemed false reasoning if even women must be armed for battle. And the women, on the whole, were better specimens than the men. They were not large—none anywhere near as tall as Elonie or as compactly vigorous as Doriza—but seemed healthy and intelligent for the most part, and some were even handsome. One or two gave me an appraising, admiring look, such as soldiers should not give frankly to commanders.
I concluded the inspection, and returned to a position in front of the force. “At ease,” I bade them. “I have words to say.
“Some, at least, must have seen me last night at the recreation hour. I spoke then as to the general population of Dondromogon. Now I speak to you specifically, as soldiers facing battle duty. Your commanders think that the time is at hand for a victorious termination of the war with those strangers you call the Newcomers.”
I paused, and watched the expressions of my listeners. At the phrase, “termination of the war,” some of them positively yearned. As Gederr had admitted, the commoners of Dondromogon wanted no more fighting. Perhaps my coming was indeed by providence, to bring peace. A better peace, I now decided, than they had ever known.
“When the war is over,” I went on, “I propose to lead you still. Since I am accepted as a leader, I have a right to do that. It seems that your health and happiness will be bettered if, in some way, we achieve a new conquest—conquest of the outdoors. There may be storms, but there are also natural sunlight and fresh air. Yes, and perhaps fresh natural foods, that will strengthen you more than synthetics. Does that appeal to you?”
Plainly it did.
“As to the Newcomers, I do not know them. Yet it seems that, with the fighting ended, some friendly agreement may be reached. If they do not harm
