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Tarrano the Conqueror

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<h2>CHAPTER XIII</h2> <h3>Love—and Hate</h3> I did not harm this Tara, though I was sorely tempted to; and after a moment we quieted her. She was crying and laughing by turns; but when we seated her on the divan she controlled herself and fell into a sullen silence. Elza, pale and frightened at her escape, faced the woman, and waved Wolfgar and me aside. Strange little Elza! Resolute, she stood there, and would brook no interference with her purpose. Wolfgar and I withdrew a pace or two and stood watching them. Tara's breast was heaving with her pent emotion. She sat drooping on the divan, her face buried in her hands. Elza said gently: "Why did you do that, Tara?" There was no answer; only the woman's catching breath as she struggled with her sobs. Across the background of my consciousness came the thought that Tarrano or one of his guards would doubtless momentarily appear to investigate all this turmoil. And I was vaguely conscious also that from our instrument room the sounds of an unusual activity were coming. But I did not heed them. Elza was insisting: "Why did you do that, Tara? Why should you want to harm me?" Tara looked up. "You have stolen the man I love." "I?" "Yes. Tarrano——" She broke off, set her lips firmly together as though to repress further words; and her fine grey eyes, filled with unbidden tears, were smoldering to their depths with hate. Impulsively Elza sank to the floor beside the woman. But Tara drew away. Elza said: "Tarrano—he is a wonderful man, Tara. A genius—the greatest figure of these three worlds...." My heart sank to hear her say it! "... a genius, Tara. You should be proud to love him...." "You——" The woman's writhing fingers seemed about to reach for Elza. I took a sudden step forward, then relaxed. Elza added quickly: "But I would not steal Tarrano from you. Don't you realize that?" "No!" "But it's true." "No! No! You have stolen him! With your queer Earth beauty—that colored hair of yours—those rounded limbs—you've bewitched him! I can see it. You can't lie to me! I made him angry once and he admitted it." "No, I tell you!" "I say yes. You've stolen him from me. He loves you—and he mocks and laughs at me——" "Tara, wait. I do not love Tarrano, I tell you. I would not have him——" How my heart leaped to hear her say it so convincingly. She added: "He loves me, perhaps—but I can't help that. He has me prisoner here. I am forced——" "You lie! You are playing to win him! What girl would refuse? You say yourself he is the greatest man of the ages. You lie when you tell me you do not want him!" Elza had taken the woman by the shoulders. "Tara, listen—you must listen! Are you mated with Tarrano?" "No! But years ago he promised me. I took his name then, as we do in the Cold Country. They still call me Tara! Years I have waited, true to my promise—with even my name of maidenhood relinquished. His name—Tara! And now he tosses me aside—because you, only an Earth woman, have bewitched him." "I didn't want to bewitch him, Tara." Elza's voice was very gentle; and a whimsical smile was plucking at her lips. "You think I want him because he is a genius—the greatest man of our time?" "Yes!" "Is that why you want him?" "No, I love him." "You loved him before he was very great, didn't you?" "Yes. Back in the Cold Country. When he was only a boy—and I was no more than a girl half grown. I love him for himself, I tell you——" Elza interrupted; and her voice risen to greater firmness, held a quality of earnest pleading. "Wait, Tara! You love Tarrano for himself—because you are a woman capable of love. It is the man you love—not his deeds, or his fame or his destiny. Isn't that so?" "Yes. I——" "Then won't you give me credit for being a woman with instincts as fine as your own? The love of a good woman goes unbidden. You can't win it by conquering worlds and flinging them at her feet. Tarrano thinks you can. He thinks to dazzle me with his feats of prowess. He wants to buy my love with thrones for me to grace as queen. He thinks my awe and fear of him are love. He thinks a woman's love is born of respect, and admiration, and promises of wealth. But you and I, Tara—we know it isn't. We know it's born of a glance—born in poverty and sickness—adversity—every ill circumstance—born without reason—for no reason at all. Just born! And if anything else gives it birth—it is not a true woman's love. You and I know that, Tara. Don't you see?" Tara was sobbing unrestrainedly now, and Elza, with arms around her, went on: "You should be proud to love Tarrano. If I loved him, I would be proud of him, too. But I do not——" A step sounded near at hand. Tarrano stood in the archway, with arms folded, regarding us sardonically. <hr style="width: 65%;" /> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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