By Alan B. Akers
Dray Prescot, Earthman of Kregen, that exceptional international circling the dual suns of Antares, had risen excessive within the empire of Vallia, yet success couldn't continually maintain him. while, eventually, all of the forces against his lands, his princess, his emperor, and to him in my opinion, converged, it was once to provide the darkest hour of his lengthy occupation. For treason struck on the courtroom, whereas insurgent armies marched from the backlands, the conflict fleets of enemy international locations have been aloft, and the uncanny wizardry of a grasp scientist introduced a spell of doom for all Prescot held pricey. together with his again to the wall, Dray Prescot confronted that point of peril with unflinching will... till the most harsh blow of all was once struck: his warrior daughter Dayra rode within the forefront of his foes!
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Additional info for Dray Prescot 17 - Captive Scorpio
The woman was the danger, now. She’d have another dagger or three stuffed down her bodice. I’d have to skip and leap and against these two my attention was likely to be fully engaged. Time for Remberee. . The window, probably. . It would be nonproductive to attempt to return across the rain-swept walkway to The Ball and Chain. The door through which Silent Sam or Tongueless Tom had disappeared would open to a trick lock, and there wouldn’t be time. So it would have to be the window. The woman came back to life.
The message went on: “You, as the kitchew in a properly drawn-up and witnessed contract, the bokkertu being ably written and attested, are appraised of an irregularity. ” exploded Barty. “The nerve of the rast. I have heard of him. Nath the Knife. ” “Stupid they may be, as most titles are,” I said mildly. “But spurious? I doubt it. ” A Pallan is a minister or secretary of state, and this assassin — a high and mighty assassin — was the chief man of his khand, or guild, brotherhood or caste. I guessed he had some fugitive lawyer drafting out this rhetoric for him.
I told myself that I ran because of Barty. I did not want him killed. I had never yet met my daughter Dayra to talk to her and I did not want our first meeting to be shadowed by the death of her fine young man who ran puffing and red-faced at my side. But Barty was young and tough and filled with ideas of chivalry and valor. ” he panted out. ” We cut along the first cross street aiming to get back to the walls and find a loophole out. I had no real idea of the geography of Drak’s City — I doubt if anyone had much idea of that crawling maze of streets and alleys and hidden courts as an entirety — and so could do no more than run and follow my nose.