sword to the King of Tanith," he said.

"Prince of Tanith, for the time being," Trask corrected. "The sword,
however, is most acceptable. I take it you've had all of our blessed
sovereign you can stomach?"

"Lucas, you have enough ships and men here to take Gram," Rathmore
said. "Proclaim yourself King of Tanith and then lay claim to the
throne of Gram and the whole planet would rise for you."

Rathmore had lowered his voice, but even so the open landing stage
was no place for this sort of talk. He said so, ordered a couple
of the locals to collect Rathmore's luggage, and got him into a
hall-car, taking him down to his living quarters. After they were
in private, Rathmore began again:

"It's more than anybody can stand! There isn't one of the old great
nobility he hasn't alienated, or one of the minor barons, the
landholders and industrialists, the people who were always the
backbone of Gram. And it goes from them down to the commonfolk.
Assessments on the lords, taxes on the people, inflation to meet
the taxes, high prices, debased coinage. Everybody's being beggared
except this rabble of new lords he has around him, and that slut of
a wife and her greedy kinfolk...."

Trask stiffened. "You're not speaking of Queen Flavia, are you?"
he asked softly.

Rathmore's mouth opened slightly. "Great Satan, don't you know? No,
of course not; the news would have come on the same ship I did. Why,
Angus divorced Flavia. He claimed that she was incapable of giving
him an heir to the throne. He remarried immediately."

The girl's name meant nothing to Trask; he did know of her father, a
Baron Valdiva. He was lord of a small estate south of the Ward lands
and west of Newhaven. Most of his people were out-and-out bandits
and cattle-rustlers, and he was as close to being one himself as
he could get.

"Nice family he's married into. A credit to the dignity of the
throne."

"Yes. You wouldn't know this Lady-Demoiselle Evita; she was only
seventeen when you left Gram, and hadn't begun to acquire a
reputation outside her father's lands. She's made up for lost time
since, though. And she has enough uncles and aunts and cousins and
ex-lovers and what-not to fill out an infantry regiment, and every
one of them's at court with both hands out to grab everything they
can."

"How does Duke Joris like this?" The Duke of Bigglersport was Queen
Flavia's brother. "I daresay he's less than delighted."

"He's hiring mercenaries, is what