was still alive was aboard before he lifted out.

He was a Space Viking again.

Garvan Spasso wasn't, and never would be. He was outraged when he
heard that Valkanhayn would take his ship, loaded with much of the
loot of the three planets, to Gram. He came to Trask, fairly
spluttering about it.

"You know what'll happen?" he demanded. "He'll space out with that
cargo, and that'll be the last any of us'll hear of him again. He'll
probably take it to Joyeuse or Excalibur and buy himself a lordship
with it."

"Oh, I doubt that, Garvan. A number of our people are going
along--Guatt Kirbey will be the astrogator; you'd trust him,
wouldn't you? And Sir Paytrik Morland, and Baron Rathmore, and
Lord Valpry, and Rolve Hemmerding...." He was silent for a moment,
struck by an idea. "Would you be willing to make the trip in the
_Space Scourge_, too?"

Spasso would, very decidedly. Trask nodded.

"Good. Then we'll be sure nothing crooked is pulled," he said
seriously.

After Spasso was gone, he got in touch with Baron Rathmore.

"See to it that he gets as much money that's due him as possible,
when you get to Gram. And ask Duke Angus, as a favor to give him
some meaningless position with a suitably impressive title, Lord
Chamberlain of the Ducal Washroom, or something. Then he can prime
him with misinformation and give him an opportunity to sell it to
Omfray of Glaspyth. Then, of course, he could be contacted to sell
Omfray out to Angus. A couple of times around and somebody'll stick
a knife in him, and then we'll be rid of him for good."

* * * * *

They loaded the _Space Scourge_ with gold from Stolgoland, and
paintings and statues from the art museums and fabrics and furs and
jewels and porcelains and plate from the markets of Eglonsby. They
loaded sacks and kegs of specie from Khepera. Most of the Khepera
loot wasn't worth hauling to Gram, but it was far enough in advance
of their own technologies to be priceless to the Tanith locals.

Some of these were learning simple machine operations, and a few
were able to handle contragravity vehicles that had been fitted with
adequate safety devices. The former slave guards had all become
sergeants and lieutenants in an infantry regiment that had been
formed, and the King of Tradetown borrowed some to train his own
army. Some genius in the machine shop altered a matchlock musket
to flintlock and showed the local gunsmiths how to do it.

Th