When we had picked Taman up behind the enemy lines, he had been returning from a most hazardous assignment upon which Muso had sent him, possibly in the hope that he would never return.
Food was served in the apartments of Jahara; and while we were eating, an officer of the jong was announced. He brought a gracefully worded invitation that Muso would be glad to receive us immediately if Taman and Jahara would bring us to the palace and present us. It was, of course, a command.
We found Muso and his consort, Illana, in the audience room of the palace surrounded by a considerable retinue. They were seated on impressive thrones, and it was evident that Muso was taking his jongship very seriously. So great was his dignity that he did not condescend to smile, though he was courteous enough. The closest his equilibrium came to being upset was when his eyes fell on Duare. I could see that her beauty impressed him, but I was accustomed to that--it usually startled people.
He kept us in the audience chamber only long enough to conclude the formalities; then he led us into a smaller room.
"I saw the strange thing in which you fly as it circled above the city," he said. "What do you call it? and what keeps it in the air?"
I told him that Duare had christened it an anotar, and then I explained briefly the principle of heavier-than-air craft flight.
"Has it any practical value?" he asked.
"In the world from which I come airlines have been established that transport passengers, mail, and express between all the large cities and to every portion of the world; civilized governments maintain great fleets of planes for military purposes."
"But how could an anotar be used for military purposes?" he asked.
"For reconnaissance, for one thing," I told him. "I flew Taman over the enemy camp and along its line of communication. They can be used for destroying supply bases, for disabling batteries, even for direct attack upon enemy troops."
"How could your ship be used against the Zanis?" he asked.
"By bombing their lines, their camp, and their supply depots and trains we might lower their morale. Of course with but a single ship we could not accomplish much."
"I am not so sure of that," said Taman. "The psychological effect of this new engine of destruction might be far more effective than you imagine."
"I agree with Taman," said Muso.
"I shall be glad to serve the jong of Korva in any way," I said.
"Will you accept a commission under me?" he asked. "It will mean that you must swear allegiance to the jong of Korva."
"Why not?" I asked. "I have no country on Amtor, and the ruler and people of Sanara have accorded us courtesy and hospitality," and so I took the oath of allegiance to Korva and was commissioned a captain in the army of the jong. Now, at last, I had a country; but I also had a boss. That part of it I didn't like so well, for, if I am nothing else, I am a rugged individualist.
THE NEXT few weeks were filled with interest and excitement. The Sanarans manufactured both r-ray and t-ray bombs as well as incendiary bombs, and I made almost daily flights over the enemy lines and camp. In the latter and along their line of communication I wrought the most havoc, but a single ship could not win a war. On several occasions I so demoralized their front line that successful sorties were made by the Sanarans during which prisoners were taken. From these we learned the repeated bombings had had their effect on the morale of the enemy and that an enormous reward had been offered by the Zani chief, Mephis, for the destruction of the ship or for my capture dead or alive.
During these weeks we remained the guests of Taman and Jahara, and were entertained frequently by Muso, the acting jong, and his wife, Illana. The latter was a quiet, self-effacing woman of high lineage but of no great beauty. Muso usually ignored her; and when he didn't, his manner toward her was often brusque and almost offensive; but she was uniformly sweet and unresentful. He was far more attentive to Duare than he was to his own wife, but that is often times a natural reaction of a host in his endeavor to please a guest. While we did not admire it, we could understand it.
The siege of Sanara was almost a stalemate. The city had enormous reserve supplies of synthetic foods; and its water supply was assured by artesian wells, nor was there any dearth of ammunition. The besiegers could not get into the city, and the besieged could not get out. So matters stood one day a month after my arrival in Sanara when Muso sent for me. He was pacing back and forth the width of a small audience chamber when I was ushered into his presence. He appeared nervous and ill at ease. I supposed at the time that he was worried over the seeming hopelessness of raising the siege, for it was of that he spoke first.
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