Space Viking | Page 8

obliqued off to the sides.
"How say you, Lord Trask?" he asked, almost conversationally.
"With all my heart, your Grace."
"And you, Lady-Demoiselle Elaine?"
"It is my dearest wish, your Grace."
The Duke took the sword by the blade and extended it; they laid their
hands on the jeweled pommel.
"And do you, and your houses, avow us, Angus, Duke of Wardshaven,
to be your sovereign prince, and pledge fealty to us and to our
legitimate and lawful successors?"

"We do." Not only he and Elaine, but all around them, and all the
throng in the gardens, answered, the spectators in shouts. Very clearly,
above it all, somebody, with more enthusiasm than discretion, was
bawling: "Long live Angus the First of Gram!"
"And we, Angus, do confer upon you two, and your houses, the right to
wear our badge as you see fit, and pledge ourself to maintain your
rights against any and all who may presume to invade them. And we
declare that this marriage between you two, and this agreement
between your respective houses, does please us, and we avow you two,
Lucas and Elaine, to be lawfully wed, and who so questions this
marriage challenges us, in our teeth and to our despite."
That wasn't exactly the wording used by a ducal lord on Gram. It was
the formula employed by a planetary king, like Napolyon of Flamberge
or Rodolf of Excalibur. And, now that he thought of it, Angus had
consistently used the royal first-person plural. Maybe that fellow who
had shouted about Angus the First of Gram had only been doing what
he'd been paid to do. This was being telecast, and Omfray of Glaspyth
and Ridgerd of Didreksburg would both be listening; as of now, they'd
start hiring mercenaries. Maybe that would get rid of Dunnan for him.
The Duke gave the two-hand sword back to his esquire. The young
knight who was carrying the green and tawny shawl handed it to him,
and Elaine dropped the black and yellow one from her shoulders, the
only time a respectable woman ever did that in public, and her mother
caught and folded it. He stepped forward and draped the Trask colors
over her shoulders, and then took her in his arms. The cheering broke
out again, and some of Sesar Karvall's guardsmen began firing a
pom-pom somewhere.
* * * * *
It took a little longer than he had expected to finish with the toasts and
shake hands with those who crowded around. Finally, the exit march
started, down the long walkway to the landing stage, and the Duke and
his party moved away to the rear to prepare for the wedding feast at
which everybody but the bride and groom would celebrate. One of the

bridesmaids gave Elaine a huge sheaf of flowers, which she was to toss
back from the escalator; she held it in the crook of one arm and clung to
his with the other.
"Darling; we really made it!" she was whispering, as though it were too
wonderful to believe.
Well, wasn't it?
One of the news cars--orange and blue, that was Westlands Telecast &
Teleprint--had floated just ahead of them and was letting down toward
the landing stage. For a moment, he was angry; that went beyond the
outer-orbit limits of journalistic propriety, even for Westlands T & T.
Then he laughed; today he was too happy for anger about anything. At
the foot of the escalator, Elaine kicked off her gilded slippers--there
was another pair in the car; he'd seen to that personally--and they
stepped onto the escalator and turned about. The bridesmaids rushed
forward, and began struggling for the slippers, to the damage and
disarray of their gowns, and when they were half way up, Elaine
heaved the bouquet and it burst apart among them like a bomb of
colored fragrance, and the girls below snatched at the flowers,
shrieking deliriously. Elaine stood, blowing kisses to everybody, and he
was shaking his clasped hands over his head, until they were at the top.
When they turned and stepped off, the orange and blue aircar had let
down directly in front of them, blocking their way. Now he was really
furious, and started forward with a curse. Then he saw who was in the
car.
Andray Dunnan, his thin face contorted and the narrow mustache
writhing on his upper lip; he had a slit beside the window open and was
tilting the barrel of a submachine gun up and out of it.
He shouted, and at the same time tripped Elaine and flung her down.
He was throwing himself forward to cover her when there was a
blasting multiple report. Something sledged him in the chest; his right
leg crumpled under him. He fell--

He fell and fell and fell,