The chariot of the sun : $b a fantasyPocock, Roger
Science
The chariot of the sun : $b a fantasy
Pocock, Roger
Canadian fiction; Speculative fiction
"The Palace was burned yesterday. This is your Majesty's flagship,
the _Coronation_," Brand crossed to the open port, and, looking out,
"There, is the Strait of Dover," he said, "and the sun has just
risen, turning the North Sea into a field of silver. Above there are
little clouds like petals of roses, and all round us the seagulls.
Cannot you hear them, Margaret?"
"Where is the Siberian Fleet?"
"I have destroyed the Siberian Fleet. The Russian Emperor lay dead
at your Majesty's feet, and the officers of his General Staff are
prisoners in this ship. The Russian Army has surrendered."
"And the French Army, and the German?"
"Surrendered as prisoners of war. I have blown up all their
magazines, their ammunition trains to the last cartridge. Their
commanders-in-chief are prisoners on board the _Virgin_."
"And my people are saved!"
Brand came to the bedside, and there kneeling down, kissed our Lady's
hand.
"Oh, love me," he whispered, "just a little!"
"And you are alive!" The blood raced in her veins, her heart was
crying out for him. "I saw you in a little ship all alone, dying, I
thought; and underneath there were rivers and lakes, and forests
streaming by."
"You saw me, then?"
"In a dream, yes."
"Only love dreams like that. You love me, Margaret."
"I love my country, you were the one hope left, and I saw you dying.
Tell me how you come to be alive."
"Rivers, and lakes, and forest," answered Brand. "You did not see
the mountains, then? Great, big mountains came up against the west,
higher and higher, alp piled on alp, precipice on precipice, mile on
mile of ice barring the ship's way. They were the Alps of St. Elias.
Oh, Margaret--say you love me before I go on."
"What did you do when the ship came to the mountains?"
"She was running right at them, a hundred miles an hour, I couldn't
stir hand or foot, and I was being whirled helpless against an
enormous cliff."
Margaret gripped his hand. "Yes! Go on!"
"Then you do love me? Only love grips like that."
"Don't I love all my brothers of the Guard? You wear the dress of my
brothers. Please, go on."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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