: Alan Burt Akers
: Legions of Antares Dray Prescot 25
: Mushroom eBooks
: 9781843196211
: 1
: CHF 3.90
:
: Science Fiction
: English
: 185
: DRM
: PC/MAC/eReader/Tablet
: ePUB

For too long the iron legions of the evil empress of Hamal have devastated the neighboring lands and islands of Kregen. Under the twin suns of Antares, that planet of marvels has been made a scene of carnage, rapine, and death. Dray Prescot, Earthman transported to Kregen, battled Empress Thyliss all the way, and at long last found himself nearing the showdown of his long campaign on his new homeland. Gathering about himself old allies and former enemies, Dray prepares to challenge the empress at the very doors of her capital city, until he discovers that she is about to spring her secret weapon: the super-science of the mad wizard of Loh.
Legions of Antares is the twenty-fifth book in the epic fifty-two book saga of Dray Prescot of Earth and of Kregen by Kenneth Bulmer, writing as Alan Burt Akers. The series continues withAllies of Antares.

Chapter one


Concerns what followed an arrangement with the Star Lords


You don’t argue with the Star Lords. At least, if you make the attempt you’ll regret it and that may exclude your chance of living to regret it. All the same, I’ve hurled some hard words at the Star Lords from time to time, and as for their messenger and spy, the scarlet- and golden-feathered bird of prey, he and I, the Gdoinye and I, have indulged in a few scathing slanging matches.

There can’t be a winner from the ranks of mortal men, as I then believed, in any contest with the Star Lords, and I had learned caution.

The spangled stars of Kregen sparkled still in the night sky and the quietness of waiting in those moments before dawn cast an expectant hush over all the rolling world. Delia half-rose in the bed, leaning on an elbow. The sheets slipped down to her waist as she regarded me. Her hair lay in shadow from the bedpost and her face looked upon me woefully.

“When the twin suns rise, my heart,” I said.

“I hate the Star Lords!”

“As well hate the storms bursting around your head, or the thunder and lightning. They are not affected by our feelings or what we do. Although,” I said, bending to pick up the scarlet breechclout, “although I fancy what we do may have some small effect on the Star Lords. Their man in Hamal has failed and they need me urgently, yet they gave us this night together.”

“And I am supposed to love them for that?”

Determination in Delia is a live force. What she knows she knows, what she holds she holds.

“No, you cannot be expected to love the Everoinye. I believe they are beyond love or hate, although once they were mortal human beings like us.” I threw down the scarlet breechclout. “I shall not need that.”

“I think, my heart — there is light. There... On the window frame...”

The windows of this sumptuous bedchamber high in the fortress of the Hakal in the city of Huringa in Hyrklana were deeply set into the masonry. Rich damask clothed the harsh stone. I looked. A strigicaw embroidered in bright silks shone more clearly than he had before, his snarling muzzle lifted, his ears pricked. Yes, there was light. The red sun and the green sun, Far and Havil, were lifting into the dawn skies over Kregen and it was the time appointed.

Useless to try to stumble out words to say what I felt: Delia saw all that in me as I looked upon her, standing drinking her in, feeling, feeling... She smiled. She made herself smile for me and she stretched out her arms.

I leaped for the bed and clasped her, warm and soft and firm and glorious, glorious. Then, with the feeling of the tormentors in their black hoods at work on me, I released her and stepped back.

All naked, staring forlornly upon Delia, I waited for the Summons of the Scorpion.

“Remberee, Dray, my heart—”

“Remberee, Delia, my love. Remember always, I love you and only you—”

Blue radiance dropped about me, blotting out the world and all I loved, and the bloated shining form of th