Bors said indignantly, "Negotiate? You haven't anything to negotiate with! I am not a citizen of Kandar, though I serve in its fleet. I am still a national of Tralee. But I have talked to the officers of the fleet. They won't surrender. You can't negotiate for them to do so. You can't negotiate for them to go quietly away and pretend that nothing has happened and that there never was a fleet. When the Mekinese arrive, the fleet will fight. It doesn't hope to win; it doesn't expect anything--except getting killed honorably when its enemy would like to have it grovel. But it's going to fight!"
King Humphrey said doggedly, "My influence does not extend to the disgrace of our fighting forces. The fleet will fight. I believe it unwise. But since it will fight I shall be in the flagship and it _will not surrender_."
There was a pause. The bearded man said peevishly, "But it should fight on its own! It should not compromise Kandar!"
There was a murmur. King Humphrey looked about him from under lowered brows.
"That can be arranged," he said heavily. "I will constitute a caretaker government by royal proclamation. I will appoint you," he looked steadily at the bearded man, "to be head of it and make such terms as you can. If you like, when the Mekinese come you can warn them that the fleet has mutinied under me, its king, and may offer battle, but that you are ready to lead the people of Kandar in--"
"In licking the boots of all Mekinese," said Bors in an icy tone.
There was a small rumble of protest. Bors stood up.
"I'd better leave," he said coldly. "I'm not entitled to speak. If you want me, I can be reached."
He strode from the council-chamber. As the door closed behind him, he ground his teeth. The stout man, Morgan, of the space-yacht _Sylva_, paced up and down the room where he waited to be called. His daughter sat tranquilly in a chair. She smiled pleasantly at Bors when he came in. Morgan turned to face him.
"Here's some Talents, Incorporated information," he said zestfully. "The cabinet is scared. A few are willing to fight, but most are already trying to think how they can make terms with the Mekinese."
Bors opened his mouth to swear, then checked himself.
"Gwenlyn," said Morgan, "will pardon an expression of honest indignation. It's a dirty shame, eh?"