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I fixed him with my eye.
Is Captain Lars Ehren still in command ofOvvend Barynth!
He looked bewildered. Water dripped from me: crimson water. Opaz knew what thoughts were going
through the heads of his men. They had seen a great galleon of Vallia burn. They had seen one sky ship
crash headlong into another and bring her down in destruction. And now a hairy maniac had swum over
to them, bellowing like a chunkrah, claiming to be a prince of Vallia.
No not claiming to be a prince of Vallia.
Claiming to be the Prince Majister.
I had been through a pretty bizarre experience, and a fight that for all the lack of actual blade-to-blade
contact was as deadly as any a Bladesman might covet, and so I now confess I was just a trifle sharp
with this young man. And, too, wearing trousers without a seat is a far cry from not wearing trousers or a
breechclout at all . . .
Well, youngster! Brace up! I asked you a question.
We had pulled in close enough toOvvend Barynth to make any reply of his superfluous. A chunky man
with a huge spade beard leaped up onto the ratlines, gripping with one mahogany fist, peering down at his
boat as she pulled alongside with the bowman standing up ready to hook on.
Prince Dray! bellowed down this squat and bearded man. He almost fell off his own slip, so excited
were his movements, letting go of the shrouds to wave and yell. Prince Dray!
Ahoy there, Captain Lars! I roared up. Lahal!
Lahal it is, my Prince! And may Opaz be forever praised for sending you to me in this evil hour.
Nikvove of Evir burned, Majister, burned! Did you see?
I saw, Captain Lars. Old naval habits impelled me up and out of the boat first. Captain Lars Ehren
jumped to the deck and bellowed for due honors to be paid to me as I came aboard; but I roared at him,
and clasped his hand. You are for Hyrklana, of course? Vollers?
Aye, Prince.
It is a fruitless journey. Turn back, Captain. Put your helm over and brace your yards around. We can
find our own fliers in Vallia, by Vox!
The Vallian deputation for Hyrklana aboard, of whom I knew only one man, and that slightly, demurred,
but I overbore them. Truth to tell, I think the ghastly sight of a great Vallian galleon burning there was
now no sign ofNikvove of Evir at all convinced them with more urgency. We picked up a mere
handful of the men from the doomed ship who had managed to hurl themselves overboard. Captain Lars
Ehren turned his ship s rakish beakhead to the north and with the wind over our starboard beam we
punched into the seas, going home.
There was much to be accomplished still in Hamal, for I had not given up my schemes for that country,
not by a long zorca-horn. Rees the lion-man, chinless Chido, they would not be forgotten the Trylon
Rees with his booming laugh and his We ll make you a Bladesman yet, Hamun! and there was, also,
that extraordinarily unpleasant Queen Thyllis to be reckoned with, and the obnoxious King Doghamrei
and there were others.
I fancied that Hamun ham Farthytu, Amak of Paline Valley, candidate for Bladesman, would one day
ride into Ruathytu and go knocking on doors in the sacred quarter.
I did not forget the cramphs of Hamal had burned and sunk a fine galleon of Vallia.
But, most important, glorious and wonderful despite it had been bought in cunning and treachery, I
carried with me fifty percent of the secrets of the fliers, and the wise men of Vallia must supply the
answers for the other fifty percent. The Emperor, my Delia s father, would want to know the reason why
if they did not.
Delia! Delia of the Blue Mountains, Delia of Delphond!
Home, home to Vallia! Blow the winds! Roar the gales! Bear me on and on to Valka and my high
fortress of Esser Rarioch overlooking Valkanium and the bay! Home, home, home . . .
You shiver, my Prince! Captain Lars Ehren looked concerned. Your clothes let me provide you
with the best we have.
A simple breechclout will do, Captain. I sniffed the breeze, hugely. I shall enjoy this journey home. A
breech-clout, if you will, Captain provided it is a scarlet one!
About the author
Alan Burt Akers is a pen name of the prolific British author Kenneth Bulmer. Bulmer has published over
160 novels and countless short stories, predominantly science fiction.
More details about the author, and current links to other sources of information, can be found at
www.mushroom-ebooks.com
The Dray Prescot Series
The Delian Cycle:
Transit to Scorpio
The Suns of Scorpio
Warrior of Scorpio
Swordships of Scorpio
Prince of Scorpio
Havilfar Cycle:
Manhounds of Antares
Arena of Antares
Fliers of Antares
Bladesman of Antares
Avenger of Antares
Armada of Antares
Notes
[1]Prescot has recorded his adventures on Kregen and those tapes were found in Africa. TheTapes
from Africa constitute the substance of these books. [A.B.A.]
[2]At this point it is appropriate to remark that there is another infuriating gap in the taped records of
Prescot s adventures on Kregen. After he was reunited with his friends aboard the flier over the
Shrouded Sea, as related at the end of the previous volume,Fliers of Antares, he picks up the narrative
as it appears here at the opening ofBladesman of Antares. From later evidence it appears he cleared up
the Migladrin situation and then went back to his home in Valka. Where else he may have gone must for
the moment remain conjectural. I think not much time elapsed; but I detect a new philosophy about
Prescot in his surprising decision to leave Delia at home and to make sure she stayed there. We know
how he misses her, and we also know she has stowed away to accompany him in the past. [A.B.A.]
[3]SeeFliers of Antares. Dray Prescot #8. [A.B.A.]
[4]SeeSwordships of Scorpio , Dray Prescot #4. [A.B.A.]
[5]So is Kregish forthree. The man had risen three steps in his rank of Hikdar. [A.B.A.]
[6]Prescot gives here, and elsewhere, quite comprehensive information and rules for playing Jikaida. The
game is fascinating. With the kind consent of Donald A. Wollheim, the publisher of Dray Prescot s story,
I hope to be able soon to include playing instructions and rules for Jikaida as an appendix to a
forthcoming volume of Dray Prescot s adventures. [A.B.A.]
[7]Shiv: six.
[8]After Prescot recorded the words, Notor Zan, he must have switched the machine off for a break,
as he often does, and as again and unfortunately so begun again at a point in his narrative
subsequent to his departure point. I think nothing vital occurred in the lost interim. Prescot has been made
slave before; no doubt vile though it was to him it was not sufficiently original to reward extended
comment. [A.B.A]
[9]Ord: eight.
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