Doctor Who_ Curse of Peladon - Brian Hayles [10]
‘This way, I think, Jo,’ he muttered, and half-running, they took their chance on the left-hand path.
3
An Enemy from the Past
Peladon was alone. He had sent Grun the Faithful from him, and Grun, although unable to put thought into words, had understood Peladon’s deep need for solitude. The young king’s thoughts were all on Torbis and the years past that he had spent guiding and teaching the boy who would one day be king. It had not been Torbis’ task alone: Hepesh, too, had played his part.
Until the coming of the aliens, the two men had been as one: uncles to the young charge who had been placed so trustingly in their care by Ellua, the boy-king’s Earthling mother. Was Hepesh right? Had she betrayed them into a new slavery?
Peladon rejected this without question. Hepesh was a creature of the past. Peladon’s mother had been blessed with a rare vision.
What she foresaw must come true.
One particular memory drifted into his mind; the day when, accompanied by his mother, Hepesh and Torbis, Peladon had been brought to the throne room and told the meaning of his coming of age. He had refused to sit upon the throne, and had insisted that it could belong only to his illustrious father, the dead king. But Torbis had lifted him up and gently set him on the throne, and Hepesh had spoken gently to him, telling him what was to be... The words still echoed in his mind, proudly.
‘ Though the royal blood that flows in your veins has mingled with that of strangers, you shall be Peladon of Peladon, greater than your father, greater than any past or future king... ’ Hepesh’s intoned words had echoed clearly around the throne room walls. His mother had smiled and taken Peladon’s small hands, placing the right in Torbis lean grasp, and the left in the softer, jewelled hand of Hepesh. Together, they had made a boy into a king.
But now Torbis was dead. The coronation would be an empty ritual without him, although his task would be so near to completion once the young king was anointed and crowned.
Now he was king-elect, and not all-powerful; then he would be ruler with total power. Hepesh, the High Priest of Aggedor, was held in high esteem throughout the land. Peladon would need to lean heavily on him in the daily running of the affairs of the kingdom. Once there had been complete trust in the two men who guided him; now, Peladon’s mind was filled with questions.
Should he remain committed to the Federation, or was this the moment to reconsider? Was the death of Torbis a black omen, as Hepesh claimed? Peladon suddenly became aware that he was no longer alone. He looked up and frowned. Hepesh was standing before him as though summoned by the questions in Peladon’s mind. The king did not hesitate to speak.
‘Why was Torbis killed, Hepesh?’ he said, his voice tight with emotion.
‘Torbis saw your future as a servant of the Galactic Federation. That was wrong. I—and your people—see you as the independent ruler of a glorious kingdom.’
Peladon frowned more deeply. The answer was not complete—Hepesh was using formal words to hide facts.
‘And do you believe that he was destroyed by Aggedor?’
Hepesh replied smoothly, without pause. ‘It was a terrible warning. We dare not ignore it!’
Another evasion, thought Peladon. He leaned forward, sharp-eyed, determined to wring a clear-cut answer from the older man. ‘The Federation delegates are here at my royal invitation,’ he said pointedly. ‘Why, then, was it