lay awake for aeons, but he must have dozed off
because he was awakened by a yell. It was not a complete yell; only the
first part of one. It stopped in a particularly unpleasant fashion, and
its echoes went reverberating through the stony walls of the castle.
Hoddan was out of bed with a stun-pistol in his hand in a hurry, before
that first yell was followed by other shouts and outcries, by the
clashing of steel upon steel, and all the frenzied tumult of combat in
the dark. The uproar moved. In seconds the sound of fighting came from a
plainly different direction, as if a striking force of some sort went
rushing through only indifferently defended corridors.

It would not pass before Hoddan's door, but he growled to himself. On a
feudal world, presumably one might expect anything. But there was a
situation in being, here, in which etiquette required a rejected suitor
to carry off a certain scornful maiden by force. Some young lordling
named Ghek had to carry off Fani or be considered a man of no spirit.

A gun went off somewhere. It was a powder gun, exploding violently to
send a metal bullet somewhere. It went off again. There was an instant
almost of silence. Then an intolerable screeching of triumph, and
shrieks of another sort entirely, and the excessively loud clash of arms
once more.

Hoddan was clothed, now--at least clothed enough to have places to stick
stun-pistols. He jerked on the door to open it, irritably demanding of
himself how he would know which side was which, or for that matter which
side he should fight on.

The door was locked. He raged. He flung himself against it and it barely
quivered. It was barred on the outside. He swore in highly indecorous
terms, and tore his bedstead apart to get a battering-ram.

The fighting reached a climax. He heard a girl scream, and without
question knew that it was the Lady Fani, and equally without question
knew that he would fight to keep any girl from being abducted by a man
she didn't want to marry. He swung the log which was the corner post of
his bed. Something cracked. He swung again.

The sound of battle changed to that of a running fight. The objective of
the raiders had been reached. Having gotten what they came for--and it
could only be Fani--they retreated swiftly, fighting only to cover their
retreat. Hoddan swung his bed leg with furious anger. He heard a flurry
of yells and sword strokes, and a fierce, desperate cry from Fani among
them, and a