in
this company of his. Why you people ever let him recruit them Satan
only knows," he parenthesized. "I have eight hundred; five hundred
ground-fighters. I'd like to see how they shape up in combat, before
we space out. I can have them ready for action in two hours, and
it'd be all over before midnight."

"No, Captain Harkaman; his Grace would never permit it," Grauffis
vetoed. "You have no idea of the political harm that would do among
the independent lords on whom we're counting for support. You
weren't here on Gram when Duke Ridgerd of Didreksburg had his sister
Sancia's second husband poisoned--"

IV

They halted under the colonnade; beyond, the lower main terrace was
crowded, and a medley of old love songs was wafting from the sound
outlets, for the sixth or eighth time around. He looked at his
watch; it was ninety seconds later than the last time he had done
so. Give it fifteen more minutes to get started, and another fifteen
to get away after the marriage toasts and the felicitations. And
no marriage, however pompous, lasted more than half an hour. An
hour, then, till he and Elaine would be in the aircar, bulleting
toward Traskon.

The love songs stopped abruptly; after a momentary silence, a
trumpet, considerably amplified, blared; the "Ducal Salute." The
crowd stopped shifting, the buzz of voices ceased. At the head of
the landing-stage escalators there was a glow of color and the ducal
party began moving down. A platoon of guards in red and yellow, with
gilded helmets and tasseled halberds. An esquire bearing the Sword
of State. Duke Angus, with his council, Otto Harkaman among them;
the Duchess Flavia and her companion-ladies. The household gentlemen,
and their ladies. More guardsmen. There was a great burst of cheering;
the news-service aircars got into position above the procession.
Cousin Nikkolay and a few others stepped out from between the pillars
into the sunlight; there was a similar movement at the other side of
the terrace. The ducal party reached the end of the central walkway,
halted and deployed.

"All right; let's shove off," Cousin Nikkolay said, stepping forward.

Ten minutes since they had come outside; another five to get into
position. Fifty minutes, now, till he and Elaine--Lady Elaine Trask
of Traskon, for real and for always--would be going home.

"Sure the car's ready?" he asked, for the hundredth time.

His cousin assured him that it was. Figures in Karvall black an