Two Space War Part 41

"O see ye not yon narrow road,

So thick beset wi' thorns and briers?

That is the Path of Righteousness,

Though after it but few inquires."

"Ah! 'The road less traveled,' " he said with a smile. "That's the one for me."

"Nay, Thomas," she said, placing a finger on his lips, "hear me out, I pray thee. For on the other hand thou canst go the way of the world, and chose selfishness, and greed."

"And see ye not yon broad, broad road,

That lies across the lily leven?

That is the Path of Wickedness,

Though some call it the Road to Heaven."

"Or, on the gripping hand, ye can chose fealty to my grandfather. That is my grandfather's offer. And dost thou see, Thomas, that is thy duty! Wouldst thou take that magnificent s.h.i.+p and crew so far away when righteous battle calls? Nay! This is thy duty, thy destiny! I have studied thy history. 'Tis an honorable choice. Thou wouldst be like Chenault and his Flying Tigers in China. Like the American fliers who served the RAF early in Earth's World War Two! And thou wouldst receive wealth, appreciation, and honor."

"And see ye not yon bonny road

That winds about the fernie brae?

That is the Road to fair Elfland,

Where thou and I this night must gae."

Aye, though Melville, looking at her wonderingly, she's not from Heaven or from h.e.l.l. She's not the least concerned with wickedness or righteousness. She's interested only in the road that leads to the country where she is queen. Conquest in the country of men's hearts. Of my heart. That's what is most important to her. And yet it was all so beautiful, so pure. There was no pretense. No deception. She had made her bid, offered her challenge, thrown down her gauntlet. She had given it her best shot, her best kiss. And what a kiss it was . . . Now the choice was his, to be enchanted and beguiled . . . or not.

Still, he didn't fully understand. "Why do you want me? What makes me worthy to be wooed by a princess?"

"O Thomas. 'Tis thee that I love. Were thee but a lowly foot soldier I think that I shouldst love thee still. But as a princess royal I may not give myself and my love to just anyone. But thou! Thou, my Thomas, hast earned it. 'Tis thy martial glories that make thee respected and revered. Our men would follow thee." She smiled wickedly and added, "And thou hast neatly depleted Auntie's carefully chosen household retainers. The survivors are scared to death of thee." Then she added with a slight shudder, "And it takes a lot to frighten them. So Aunt Madelia cannot stand in thy way. Great Aunt Ondelesa has been quite distressed by how the whole matter turned out. She will not stand in thy way. At every turn thou hast earned thy way into our family and our navy by right of battle and blood!"

It was mirk, mirk night, there was nae starlight,

They waded thro' red blude to the knee;

For a' the blude that's shed on the earth

Runs through the springs o' that countrie.

Aye, a trail of blood brought him here, and made him desired by kings and princesses. A river of blood. How much blood ran upon the decks of his s.h.i.+p? Other s.h.i.+ps? Frozen in s.p.a.ce? Soaked into the soil of Broadax's World? How much blood?

"Blood," he said, thoughtfully. "It's always about blood and battle. Even you, my princess, are named after a sword. That's what 'Glaive' means in our tongue. Did you know that?"

"Aye, as 'Bilbo' in thy mythos is named after an obscure word meaning a sword, a well-tempered blade. We chose the English translations of our names very carefully. Your language is so powerful, so beautiful. Like your literature, it has conquered us."

Melville smiled. "Churchill called it, 'the all-conquering English language.' By the end of the twentieth century it was the common language spoken by every pilot coming into every international airport in the world, and over ninety percent of everything on the old Internet was in English. By the end of the twenty-first century it was the first or second language of almost every person on Earth, and all the other languages were well on their way to virtually disappearing. Even in Churchill's time it was evident that English would conquer the Earth, but I wonder what he would have made of this."

Melville was determined not to be distracted, so he brought the subject around to its original intent, to understand about her. "Princess Glaive Newra. That has subtle meaning to us. I understand the Newra part, but why Glaive, why a sword?"

"My father said that only two women had ev'r been faithful and true in his hour of need. His wifea"mine mothera"and his sword. When I was born he named me after his blade, and bade me to be straight and true."

"Aye, he has named you well. And straight and true you have cut to my soul and pierced my heart. You are my glaive, and I am your warrior. But I cannot grant your request, I cannot obey your command. Not now, much as I may desire it."

She looked bewildered as he continued. As if she couldn't believe that he was denying her.

"I cannot explain it, but only the concept of duty, the fulfillment of my oath to Const.i.tution and Queen, only they can make all the blood right. If I'm not under authority, then I'm just another criminal, and the vilest of ma.s.s murderers at that. But I follow an oath. Would you really want a man who could lightly set aside his oath? Would your father really want such a man? I would not."

"Oh, Thomas," she said, tears beginning to well up in her eyes, "our nation is at war and we need thee. Just pledge thy sword! Pledge thy sword, and pledge that silver tongue of thine. Pledge it to my grandfather. And . . . to me," she added coyly through her tears. "And we shall take thee away from a lifetime of tramping across the galaxy, buying and selling, and give thee pride of place in a nation that honors its mighty warriors."

He held her hand tightly and felt his traitor voice quaver, as he took a deep breath and said, "Send my love and my friends.h.i.+p to your grandfather, and you have my love and my heart. But my tongue is my own, and my sword is pledged to my Queen. Your grandfather couldn't truly respect me if I broke my oath. I wouldn't be the man you want, I wouldn't be the man you love, if I were to do as you ask."

"My toungue is my ain," true Thomas he said;

"A goodly gift ye would give to me!"

"Now hold thy peace, Thomas," she said,

"For as I say, so must it be."

She smiled softly. O such a smile. It made his heart melt. "It is not over, dear Thomas. Thou shalt remember me, and thou shalt come back to me. I will call thee from across the galaxy, and thou shalt come. I have woven mine magic, the simple magic of a sincere woman's true love, and now thou art mine. For as I say, so must it be."

"Aye," he said, and now it was his turn to reach out and stroke her face, striving to echo her gentleness with his rough hands, so calloused by sword, pistol and his s.h.i.+p's rigging. "If it is within my power, I shall return. I'm not sure of the ending, but it will never be boring. I promise."

Chapter the 18th.

Conclusion: The Dreamer

Sentry pa.s.s him through!

Drawbridge let fall, 'tis the Lord of us all,

The Dreamer whose dreams come true!

"The Fairies' Siege"

Rudyard Kipling