urn on Makann, once they had arms and were properly
supported. Combat weapons were almost unknown among the people,
however, and even sporting arms uncommon. All the small arms and
light artillery and auto-weapons available were gathered up.

The _Grendelsbane_ came in from Beowulf, and the _Sun Goddess_ from
Amaterasu. Three independent Space Viking ships were still in orbit
on Tanith; they joined the expedition. There would be trouble with
them on Marduk; they'd want to loot. Let the Mardukans worry about
that. They could charge it off as part of the price for letting
Zaspar Makann get into power in the first place.

* * * * *

There were twelve spacecraft in line outside the Moon of Tanith,
counting the three independents and the forcibly chartered
Gilgamesher troop-transport; that was the biggest fleet Space
Vikings had ever assembled in their history. Alvyn Karffard said
as much while they were checking the formation by screen.

"It isn't a Space Viking fleet," Prince Bentrik differed. "There
are only three Space Vikings in it. The rest are the ships of three
civilized planets. Tanith, Beowulf and Amaterasu."

Karffard was surprised. "You mean _we're_ civilized planets? Like
Marduk, or Baldur or Odin, or...?"

"Well, aren't you?"

Trask smiled. He'd begun to suspect something of the sort a couple
of years ago. He hadn't really been sure until now. His most junior
staff officer, Count Steven of Ravary, didn't seem to appreciate
the compliment.

"We _are_ Space Vikings!" he insisted. "And we are going to battle
with the Neobarbarians of Zaspar Makann."

"Well, I won't argue the last half of it, Steven," his father told him.

"Are you people done yakking about who's civilized and who isn't?"
Guatt Kirbey asked. "Then give the signal. All the other ships are
ready to jump."

Trask pressed the button on the desk in front of him. A light went
on over Kirbey's control panel as one would on each of the other
ships. He said, "Jumping," around the stem of his pipe, and twisted
the red handle and shoved it in.

* * * * *

[Illustration]

Four hundred and fifty hours, in the private universe that was the
_Nemesis_; outside, nothing else existed, and inside there was
nothing to do but wait, as each hour carried them six trillion miles
nearer to Gimli. At first, the ruthless and terrible Space Viking,
Steven, Count of Ravary, was wildly excited, but