Doctor Who_ Curse of Peladon - Brian Hayles [11]
Hepesh remained unshaken. ‘It was Torbis’ blind advice that swayed you. It was his folly that would have destroyed you—and your kingdom. He would have made you a slave, not a king.’
‘Hepesh, it was you that told me, just as Torbis did, that a king must choose—and choose courageously,’ cried Peladon. ‘I made that choice!’
The High Priest inclined his head, acknowledging the implied rebuke, but his reply was firm; ‘Aggedor has shown us the true way...’
Peladon could control his anger at the old man’s stubbornness no longer.
‘Backwards, into superstition?’ he snapped, his eyes blazing.
‘Hepesh—it was you that taught me to fight, to ride—and to think! Help me to realise my dreams!’
Hepesh did not answer, but met his young lord’s gaze with impassive dignity. Peladon’s hand gripped his shoulder.
‘I know what is best for my people,’ said the king.
The priest, unflinching, spoke with a quiet intensity. ‘And I do not trust the aliens!’ he said. ‘I will not let them lead you into a trap!’
Peladon drew back, and exclaimed icily, ‘They have been open and honest with us, Hepesh.’
It was the priest’s turn to show anger now. ‘To them, we are no more than savages! They despise and distrust us!’
‘Then I will talk to them, freely, to remove all suspicion from their minds,’ retorted Peladon. ‘Summon the delegates!’
The old man did not move, but the sharp disapproval on his face did not deter his master.
‘ Now, Hepesh!’
Peladon watched the High Priest leave. The massive doors closed after him. The young king had already made a decision: if Hepesh intended to hold back, it was time to seek new allies.
Hepesh did not go immediately to do the king’s bidding.
Outside the throne room doors, he encountered the mighty Grun, King’s Champion, and a dark plan began to form in his mind. Acknowledging the guards brisk salute, Hepesh motioned Grun to his side. He drew him to the corner of the corridor only a short distance from the throne room entrance. Grun’s loyalties were traditional: to Peladon, to Hepesh, and, most of all, to the spirit that ruled the throne—Aggedor. As the defender of that throne, Grun would act—ruthlessly if necessary—to preserve his king. But clearly, he was not yet aware of the danger of the aliens. It was time for Hepesh to teach him.
‘Grun,’ murmured Hepesh, and paused before continuing to study the handsome rugged face, ‘you have been honoured.’
Grun stared back at him, not fully comprehending the High Priest’s purpose in taking him aside. Hepesh contrived to place himself between the King’s Champion and the statue of Aggedor that surmounted the throne room entrance, then spoke on, quickly and purposefully.
‘You have seen the face of the living Aggedor—and yet you have been spared! It is a sign...’
Grun’s eyes instinctively sought the great stone statue which was set on the high balcony. When his eyes met those of Hepesh, they revealed awe—and fear.
‘I am the holy servant of Aggedor,’ continued the High Priest, ‘and it is for me to interpret such a sign. It is for you to act, if so ordained. Is this the truth?’
Grun nodded; and behind the stern mask of his face, Hepesh smiled. He held the key to Grun’s utter obedience.
His ornately ringed hand clasped the metal-studded wristguard of the warriors light armour, and he moved closer, his voice an urgent whisper. ‘You know the legend—the ancient Curse of Peladon—you know what it means, Grun?’
Grun nodded seriously as Hepesh’s words thrust home.
‘Our kingdom is in danger, Grun... and with it, our king. You are his protector, and it is to you that Aggedor has given a warning of his displeasure. He knows the future, Grun. He sees it as we cannot, and he is angry!’
The mute warrior swiftly nodded in agreement. But Hepesh had not finished. ‘That future, Grun. Who brings the new future to us?’ Grun’s glance flicked down the corridor in the direction of the delegates’ chambers. Hepesh nodded; Grun understood.
‘Yes, Grun—those aliens are strangers to our great traditions. They blind the king with golden promises, but they bring only