Prince of Scorpio

By Jeanne Hall,2014-11-04 17:00
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The fifth book of the Dray Prescot series.Dray Prescot had fought long and hard through perilous lands to claim the hand of the heiress of the mighty Vallia. Yet, when finally he set foot in that long-sought empire, it was not as hero or noble... It was as an unknown, a mendicant, and finally as a condemned slave. For the combatant fates that had interfered continually with his quest on the planet of the twin suns of Antares had yet more tests for the man they had selected as their agent. But for Dray there was only one goal -- already in sight -- and he would not be turned aside any longer no matter what dangers Vallian intrigues and quasi-human mysteries may have in store for him. This edition contains maps and a glossary. Published by Mushroom eBooks on 2005/12/21

Copyright ? 1974, Kenneth Bulmer

    Alan Burt Akers has asserted his right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988, to beidentified as the Author of this work.

    First published by Daw Books, Inc. in 1974.

This Edition published in 2005 by Mushroom eBooks, an imprint of Mushroom Publishing, Bath, BA1

    4EB, United Kingdom


    All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any form or by any means

    without the prior written permission of the publisher.

    ISBN 1843193647 Prince of Scorpio

    Dray Prescot #5

    Alan Burt Akers

    Mushroom eBooks


    Thisi the Fair borrows my Savanti sword

    I, Dray Prescot, of Earth and of Kregen, once more trod the beautiful and brutal planet of myadoption, and in the engaging way of the Star Lords who had brought me here, was facedinstantly with headlong action and deadly danger.

    A bulky man in black leathers ran full tilt upon me, seeking to pin me to the ground with hisrapier. The slender blade glistened redly in the mingled light from the twin suns of Scorpio. Ido not argue when a man tries to kill me.

    The guttural shouts and hoarse screams in my ears, the flickering impression of frenzied actionall about me, and the black galvanic forms of men contorted in violent conflict running andstabbing and caught up in a confused melee washed around me; but the burly man with the bushybrown moustaches and the eyes of a killer lunged down fiercely upon me.

    I rolled.

    He cursed and dragged his blade free of the thin earth that dribbled over bare rock, swunghimself forward for another essay at mounting me like a butterfly in a glass case. Nothing elsemattered in the world — either this world or the world of Earth distant four hundred light-years — beside that professional killer and his blade.

    “You panval cramph!” he said as he advanced, with a little more wariness this time, a trifleof cunning evident in his clear wish to spit me as I rolled.

    I shoved up on my hands, getting my feet under me, not rising on hands and knees. I was, asalways when I landed on Kregen, stark naked. There were no handy weapons — a sword, a spear, ahelmet —

    just me, Dray Prescot, naked as the day I was born.

    A shrieking man ran past, his matted hair streaming, pursued by