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Updated: June 15, 2025
He had known Rovard Grauffis all his life; until this moment, he had never seen Duke Angus' henchman show surprise. "You mean, you'll trade Traskon for that ship?" he demanded. "Finished, equipped and ready for space, yes." "The Duke will agree to that," Grauffis said promptly. "But, Lucas; Traskon is all you own." "If I have a ship, I won't need them. I am turning Space Viking."
It seemed that the Mastership issued money to finance itself, and individual Masters issued money on their personal credit, and it was handled through the Mastership Banks. "That's Fedrig Daffysan's Management; he isn't here," Rovard Javasan said. "I can't explain it, myself." And without his chief-slave, Fedrig Daffysan probably would not be able to, either. "Yes, gentlemen. I understand.
Lady Lavina Karvall was the center of a cluster of matrons and dowagers, around which tomorrow's bridesmaids fluttered like many-colored butterflies. She took possession of her daughter and dragged her into the feminine circle. He saw Rovard Grauffis, small and saturnine, Duke Angus' henchman, and Burt Sandrasan, Lady Lavina's brother.
There was sporadic fighting in a dozen places on Gram, now resistance to efforts on the part of King Angus to collect taxes, and raids by unidentified persons on estates confiscated from alleged traitors and given to Garvan Spasso, who had now been promoted from Baron to Count. And Rovard Grauffis was dead; poisoned, everybody said, either by Spasso or Queen Evita or both.
Again, he could feel the mellow sun of Gram on his back, and hear the laughing voices on the lower terrace, and he was talking to Lothar Ffayle and Rovard Grauffis and Alex Gorram and Cousin Nikkolay and Otto Harkaman. He said: "And finally, nobody bothers fixing anything up. And the power-reactors stop, and nobody seems to be able to get them started again.
Somebody flipped the switch, and Khreggor Chmidd appeared in it. Erskyll swore softly, and went to face the screen-image of the elephantine ex-slave of the ex-Lord Master, the late Rovard Javasan.
That's what happened to the Terran Federation, by the way. The good men all left to colonize, and the stuffed shirts and yes-men and herd-followers and safety-firsters stayed on Terra and tried to govern the galaxy." "Well, maybe this is all new to you, captain," Rovard Grauffis said sourly, "but Lucas Trask's dirge for the Decline and Fall of the Sword-Worlds is an old song to the rest of us.
"Elaine hasn't spoken fifty words to him since he came back from his last voyage " He laughed and put a hand on Karvall's shoulder. "I know that, Sesar. You don't think, do you, that I need assurance of it?" "Crazy, I'll say he's crazy," Rovard Grauffis put in. "Did you hear what he said about his rights? Wait till his Grace hears about that." "Does he lay claim to the ducal throne, Sir Rovard?"
Nikkolay's wife, Dame Cecelia; Rovard Grauffis; Lady Lavina Karvall he must have slept a long time, for she was so much older than he remembered and her brother, Burt Sandrasan. And a woman with dark hair, in a white smock with a gold caduceus on her breast. Once, Duchess Flavia, and once Duke Angus himself. He asked where he was, not much caring. They told him, at the Ducal Palace.
Rovard Javasan, he suspected, had just asked the sixtifor. Of course, Obray, Count Erskyll, Planetary Proconsul of Aditya, didn't realize that. He didn't even know what Javasan meant. Just free them. Commodore Vann Shatrak couldn't see much of a problem, either. He would have answered, Just free them, and then shoot down the first two or three thousand who took it seriously.
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