Saturday, July 21, 2018
Space Viking
A great new novel by H. Beam Piper
This etext was produced from Analog Science Fact—Science Fiction November 1962, December 1962, January 1963, and February 1963. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the copyright on this publication was renewed.
Read the whole novel at Project Gutenberg.
Space Viking
Vengeance is a strange human motivation—
it can drive a man to do things
which he neither would nor could achieve without it …
and because of that it lies behind some of the
greatest sagas of human literature!
by H. Beam Piper
Illustrated by Schoenherr
They stood together at the parapet, their arms about each other’s waists, her head against his cheek. Behind, the broad leaved shrubbery gossiped softly with the wind, and from the lower main terrace came music and laughing voices. The city of Wardshaven spread in front of them, white buildings rising from the wide spaces of green treetops, under a shimmer of sun-reflecting aircars above. Far away, the mountains were violet in the afternoon haze, and the huge red sun hung in a sky as yellow as a ripe peach.
His eye caught a twinkle ten miles to the southwest, and for an instant he was puzzled. Then he frowned. The sunlight on the two thousand-foot globe of Duke Angus’ new ship, the Enterprise, back at the Gorram shipyards after her final trial cruise. He didn’t want to think about that, now.
Instead, he pressed the girl closer and whispered her name, “Elaine,” and then, caressing every syllable, “Lady Elaine Trask of Traskon.”
“Oh, no, Lucas!” Her protest was half joking and half apprehensive. “It’s bad luck to be called by your married name before the wedding.”
“I’ve been calling you that in my mind since the night of the Duke’s ball, when you were just home from school on Excalibur.”
She looked up from the corner of her eye.
“That was when I started calling me that, too,” she confessed.
“There’s a terrace to the west at Traskon New House,” he told her. “Tomorrow, we’ll have our dinner there, and watch the sunset together.”
“I know. I thought that was to be our sunset-watching place.”
“You have been peeking,” he accused. “Traskon New House was to be your surprise.”
“I always was a present-peeker, New Year’s and my birthdays. But I only saw it from the air. I’ll be very surprised at everything inside,” she promised. “And very delighted.”
And when she’d seen everything and Traskon New House wasn’t a surprise any more, they’d take a long space trip. He hadn’t mentioned that to her, yet. To some of the other Sword-Worlds—Excalibur, of course, and Morglay and Flamberge and Durendal. No, not Durendal; the war had started there again. But they’d have so much fun. And she would see clear blue skies again, and stars at night. The cloud-veil hid the stars from Gram, and Elaine had missed them, since coming home from Excalibur.
The shadow of an aircar fell briefly upon them and they looked up and turned their heads, in time to see it sink with graceful dignity toward the landing-stage of Karval House, and he glimpsed its blazonry—sword and atom-symbol, the badge of the ducal house of Ward. He wondered if it were Duke Angus himself, or just some of his people come ahead of him. They should get back to their guests, he supposed. Then he took her in his arms and kissed her, and she responded ardently. It must have been all of five minutes since they’d done that before.
—
Read the whole novel at Project Gutenberg.