Doctor Who_ Curse of Peladon - Brian Hayles [2]
Always the politician, thought Hepesh bitterly, as Torbis bowed before the king.
‘Torbis’, said the young king, ‘I shall not betray you—or my people...’
Hepesh could not remain silent. ‘But your majesty—’
Peladon quelled him with a glance. ‘Hepesh, there is no more to be said. If the Committee of Assessment judges us favourably, this planet will join the Galactic Federation. I expect your help to that end.’
Peladon paused, his eyes searching the High Priest’s face for the response he demanded. ‘Well?’
Hepesh said nothing, but bowed his head in silent agreement. The king was a child no longer; he must be obeyed.
Peladon, satisfied, turned to Torbis, who stood with an air of quiet triumph.
‘Bring the delegate from Alpha Centauri to me in formal audience, Torbis!’ commanded the young king; and with Hepesh and Grun at his side, watched the Chancellor bow and depart from him.
Once outside the throne room, Torbis move to effect the king’s order with the deliberate dignity of his ancient rank. No one would have guessed at his elation. Inwardly, his pleasure was immense; the king’s assurances meant almost certain success for Torbis plans. The clumsy attempt by Hepesh to delay the Committee of Assessment had failed. The bubble of superstition had been burst, and the young king had freely taken the bold step out of barbarism towards a new, magnificent future.
Federation technology would mean that cultural and social advances normally taking a thousand years could now be achieved in less than a century! A new Peladon, stronger, more sophisticated, more civilised...
Torbis stopped, suddenly, the dream wiped from his mind.
A deep, throbbing howl rang out in the shadows of the corridor, and terror gripped the old man like a vice. He could neither turn nor run; and as he stood, immobile, that terrifying cry sounded again, closer now and more menacing still. What he next saw made Torbis gape with terror and fall to his knees, defenceless. ‘Aggedor!’ he gasped, cringing too late from the mighty claw that with one crushing blow struck him lifeless to the ground.
In the throne room, that dreadful animal howl had brought an immediate reaction from Hepesh. ‘Aggedor...’ he whispered hoarsely, glancing towards the young king who, like Hepesh and Grun, stood frozen in alarm at the blood-curdling cry. At the second cry, Peladon was already moving towards the corridor, but Grun, his Champion and protector, ran swiftly before him in the direction of the danger.
Hepesh tried to hold Peladon back, speaking urgently to him: ‘Majesty—no! The danger is too great!’
Peladon shook himself free, and moved to follow Grun, now far ahead. ‘It is Torbis who is in danger! Save him, Hepesh!’
With a warning glance over his shoulder, Hepesh ran ahead.
Peladon, now escorted by his guards, lagged only a few paces behind.
‘Aggedor!’
Sword in hand, Grun quickly came upon the crumpled body of Torbis—but what he saw there stopped him in his tracks. Few things could strike fear into Grun’s heart. To him, death on the battlefield was nothing. Now he moaned with wordless terror, letting fall his sword and covering his face abjectly before the shadowy, majestic being that stood menacingly over the body of Torbis. One glimpse of that savage, white-tusked head was enough—not even Grun, mightiest of Peladon’s warriors, could raise his sword against the Royal Beast and live. Then, as the King’s Champion grovelled before him, the vengeful cry echoed through the castle once more, and, with a flicker of shadows, Aggedor was gone.
At the sound of approaching feet, Grun stood, shaken by what he had witnessed and, desperate to explain. Hepesh threw Grun only a cursory glance, then knelt by the body to check for any signs of life; there were none. Drawing the old man’s cloak over the sightless face, Hepesh looked up at Peladon, and shook his head.
‘Torbis... dead?’ whispered the young king, his face drawn with suffering. ‘But how—why?’ He turned to Grun, his eyes fiercely