Eldon had heard enough, but still he had no plan. He must improvise in
accordance with developments.
About failure he did not dare to allow himself to speculate. Even
El-ve-don could fail--if he were really El-ve-don. And the price of
failure he must keep from his mind lest it confuse his thoughts at a
moment when he would need all his powers.
But now the deliberate self-torment of his body had served its purpose,
and well. To carry it further would be stupid. Carefully he closed his
mind against telepathic probing and prepared for sleep.
But his last thoughts were not of his own safety, not of the
disheartening shock of discovering that Margaret was not a prisoner
but was Of the Faith, not of vengeance on Victor. He thought instead
of poor Krasna as he had last seen her, and of their unborn child--the
child she had hoped would one day save Varda--doomed to die at birth.
He cursed himself for a fool while his mind groped in hopeless longing.