Doctor Who_ Curse of Peladon - Brian Hayles [59]
‘When I command, it obeys!’ Then, with a fierce gesture towards the Doctor, his voice rang out like the crack of a whip:
‘Aggedor—kill!’
At the final thrust of flame, the great beast reared to its full height, its upraised claws thrashing the smoke-dim air. Then, with that terrifying howl of vengeance, it struck—but not at the Doctor. Brushing aside the torch as though it were a fly, the other mighty paw dealt a crushing blow on to Hepesh’s bare head, and in an instant he was sprawled upon the blood-soaked ground. Jo’s scream died in her throat. The Doctor quickly brought out the hypno-disc and soothed the beast back into an uneasy calm. The black-helmeted temple troops prostrated themselves before the Royal Beast, and moaned in terror. It was the King who reached the fallen figure of Hepesh first, and he crouched low over him, cradling the dying old man in his arms.
He wept openly.
Peladon knew that whatever the old priest had done, had been done for love of his people. There was only love and pity in his voice—not condemnation.
The old man opened his eyes. They were dark with pain. He spoke proudly, his failing voice reaching only the King’s ears. ‘I meant... to save our world...’ the old man whispered. ‘The old ways... perhaps I was wrong...’ He strained to look his young master in the eye for the last time, and his voice grew clearer for an instant. ‘You are the king. Rule wisely... my son. The future...
that you desire so greatly..... will be yours... ‘
The proud head fell back. Gently, Peladon laid the limp figure on the ground, and examined the old face, haughty even in death. Then, closing the lifeless eyes, Peladon removed his royal cloak and covered the High Priests body with it lovingly.
The King stood up. The commander of the temple guard, his sword and black helmet set aside, bowed his knee before the ruler who held life and death in his hand. Behind the commander, the two commandos who had once held his life at their sword points knelt also. They could expect nothing but Grun’s sword upon their worthless necks, and the King’s Champion strode forward to carry out the task. But the king’s hand checked him in his stride. ‘Sheath your sword, Grun.
There will be no punishments.’ Peladon stepped to the throne and addressed all those present in a voice which, though regal, was full of deep emotion. A youth had become a man.
‘Let the memory of this unhappy day be wiped from all our chronicles,’ declared the king. ‘Let Hepesh the High Priest be buried with the honour that his rank deserves.’ He looked up at the tight group of silent aliens before him. ‘For my sake, will the delegates attend?’
It was the Doctor who spoke. ‘We honour your wisdom and mercy, Peladon. These are the qualities that are welcome within the Federation. Now, wear the crown of Peladon.’ His voice rang out, raising the hearts of everyone about him. ‘Long live Peladon of Peladon—long live the king!’
The Federation treaty with Peladon awaited only the signature of the king. It would be given as part of the coronation ceremony—a supremely fitting overture to a glorious reign.
Although taking place barely days after the earlier, tragic events, the occasion had left Jo breathless with excitement. Now, the Doctor was escorting her to the delegates’ room—for a surprise, so he said.
‘But what is it?’ begged Jo, as the Doctor opened the door for her.
‘See for yourself, Jo,’ smiled the Doctor, delighted at the pleasure in Jo’s eyes when she saw the familiar blue police box standing in the corner.
‘The TARDIS!’ exclaimed Jo, and ran over to it, as though to a long-lost friend. ‘We’ve got it back—at last!’
‘Yes,’ murmured the Doctor smugly. ‘Some of Peladon’s lads heaved her back up the mountain for us.’
‘Is she alright?’ asked Jo, anxiously.
‘Couldn’t be better. Remember—I told you she was indestructible.’
‘So we can really go home,’ sighed Jo. ‘Home to Earth.’
The Doctor looked at her thoughtfully, then pretended to