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Little Wolfgar was gone. It seemed at first very strange, unreal. It lay a shadow of grief upon our spirits, for many hours a deeper shadow than all those grave events impending upon which hung the fate of three worlds.
Tarrano ordered for Wolfgar a public burial of ceremony and honor in the waters of eternal peace—ordered it for that same evening. Once again Tarrano demonstrated the strangeness of his nature. His arrival to take possession of Venus had been made the occasion of a great festival. "The Water Festival," they called it, which was held only at times of universal public rejoicing. It was planned now to do honor to Tarrano—planned for this same evening. But he postponed it a night; tonight was for Wolfgar.
We were still captives in Tarrano's hands, as we had been on Earth in Venia. Yet here in the Great City of Venus a curious situation arose. Tarrano himself explained it to us that afternoon. An embarrassing situation for him, he termed it.
"Very embarrassing," he said, with eyes that smiled at us quizzically. "Just for your ears alone, you understand, I am willing to admit that I must handle these Great City people very carefully. You, Princess Maida—you are greatly beloved of your people."
"Yes," she said.
He nodded. "For that reason they would not like to know you are virtually a captive. And you, Georg Brende—really, they are beginning to look on you as a savior—to save them from disease and death. It is rather unflattering to me——"
He broke off, then with sudden decision added:
"Soon you two will realize that to join me will be your best course. And best for all the worlds, for it will bring to them all peace and health and happiness.... No, I ask no decision from you now. Nor from you, Lady Elza." His gaze softened as he regarded her—softened almost to a quantity of wistfulness. " You know, Lady Elza, for what I am striving. I may—indeed I shall—conquer the worlds. But you hold in the palm of your little white hand, my real reward.... Enough!"
And then he offered us a sort of pseudo-liberty. We might all come and go about the Great City at will. Apparently—to the public eye—allied to Tarrano. The Princess Maida—as before—hereditary honored ruler; with Tarrano guiding the business affairs of State, as on Earth our Presidents and their Councils rule the legendary Kings and Queens. The one ruling in fact; the other, an affair of pretty sentiment.
It was this condition which Tarrano now desired to bring about. With Georg already beloved for his medical knowledge; and flying rumors (started no doubt by Tarrano) that the handsome Earth man would some day marry their Princess.
Myself—the irony of it!—I was appointed a sort of bodyguard to the Lady Elza—the little Earth girl whose presence in the Great City would help conciliate the Earth and bring about universal peace—with Venus in control.
So ran the popular fancy, guided by Tarrano. We were given our pseudo-liberty, watched always by the unseen eyes of Tarrano's guards. And there was nothing we could do but accept our status. Tarrano was guiding his destiny cleverly. Yet underneath it all, unseen forces were at work. We sensed them. The slaans —submissive at their menial tasks, but everywhere with sullen, resentful glances. Perhaps Tarrano realized his danger; but I do not think that he, any more than the rest of us, realized what the Water Festival was to bring forth.
That night—our first night on Venus—midway between the darkness of sunset and the dawn—we buried Wolfgar. The air was soft and warm, with a gentle breeze that riffled the placid waters of the lake. Overhead, the sky gleamed with a myriad stars—reddish stars, all of them like Red Mars himself as seen through the heavy Venus atmosphere. Largest of them, the Earth. My birthplace! Save Elza here with me on Venus, that tiny red spot in the heavens, red like the tip of a lighted arrant-cylinder, held all that was dear to me!
The funeral cortege—a solemn line of panoplied boats, started from the palace. Boats hung with purple fabric. In single file they wended their way through the city streets. From every landing, balcony, window and roof-top, the people stared down at us. The street corners were hung with shaded tubes of light, shining down with spots of color to the water.
As we passed, the people bowed their heads, hands to their foreheads, palms outward. The gesture of grief. From one building came a low musical chant.
"Honor to Wolfgar! The man who gave his life for our Princess. Honor to Wolfgar!"
We came to the edge of the city. The lake here narrowed to a river—a length of winding river opening to the pond which was the burial place of Eternal Peace. On Tarrano's barge, with Elza and Georg, we led the way. Maida was not with us. I asked Tarrano where she was, but solemnly he denied me.
At the burial waters—on the sloping banks of which a silent throng had gathered—we landed. And following us, the other vessels of the cortege came along and stopped beside us. The pond was dotted with white markers for the graves. The whole scene unlighted, save for the stars, and the red and purple aural lights of the Venus heavens, which mounted the sky at this midnight hour. A great, glowing arc—the reflected glow from a myriad cluster of tiny moons and moon-dust, encircling Venus. The soft light from it flooded the water and the tombs with a flush of red and purple.
As we lay there against the bank, with that silent throng breathlessly watching, from down the river came the last vessel of our cortege. It made a scene I shall never forget. The bier. Draped in purple. A single, half-naked slaan propelling it with a sweep from its stern. The body of Wolfgar lying on its raised prow—his dead, white face, with peace upon it. Beside the body, the lone figure of Maida, kneeling at Wolfgar's head, with her white, braided hair falling down over her shoulders. Kneeling and staring, almost expressionless; but I knew that with her whole heart she was speeding the soul of Wolfgar to its eternal peace.