she lifted out."

He stared at the cigarette between his fingers. It was almost
short enough to burn him. With an effort, he leaned forward to
crush it out.

"Rovard, how soon will that second ship be finished?"

Grauffis laughed bitterly. "Building the _Enterprise_ took
everything we had. The duchy's on the edge of bankruptcy now. We
stopped work on the second ship six months ago because we didn't
have enough money to keep on with her and still get the _Enterprise_
finished. We were expecting the _Enterprise_ to make enough in the
Old Federation to finish the second one. Then, with two ships and
a base on Tanith, the money would begin coming in instead of going
out. But now--"

"It leaves me where I was on Flamberge," Harkaman added. "Worse.
King Napolyon was going to help the Elmersans, and I'd have gotten
a command in that. It's too late for that now."

He picked up his cane and used it to push himself to his feet.
The broken leg had mended, but he was still weak. He took a few
tottering steps, paused to lean on the cane, and then forced
himself on to the open window and stood for a moment staring out.
Then he turned.

"Captain Harkaman, it might be that you could still get a command,
here on Gram. That's if you don't mind commanding under me as
owner-aboard. I am going hunting for Andray Dunnan."

They both looked at him. After a moment, Harkaman said:

"I'd count it an honor, Lord Trask. But where will you get a ship?"

"She's half finished now. You already have a crew for her. Duke
Angus can finish her for me, and pay for it by pledging his new
barony of Traskon."

He had known Rovard Grauffis all his life; until this moment,
he had never seen Duke Angus' henchman show surprise.

"You mean, you'll trade Traskon for that ship?" he demanded.

"Finished, equipped and ready for space, yes."

"The Duke will agree to that," Grauffis said promptly. "But, Lucas;
Traskon is all you own."

"If I have a ship, I won't need them. I am turning Space Viking."

That brought Harkaman to his feet with a roar of approval. Grauffis
looked at him, his mouth slightly open.

"Lucas Trask--Space Viking," he said. "Now I've heard everything."

Well, why not? He had deplored the effects of Viking raiding on
the Sword-Worlds, because Gram was a Sword-World, and Traskon was
on Gram, and Traskon was to have been the home where he and Elaine
would live and where their children and children's children would
be born and l