Part 19 (1/2)

”I command you to disperse. You will not? Then look at me! Look at me, all of you. My will is law beyond this king-beyond these palace soldiers-beyond any power you have ever known.”

Then I knew a part of Derek's purpose! He had pressed the mechanism at his wrist. He stood imperious with upraised arms. The garden was in a tumult, but in a moment it died. A wave of horror swept the crowd. A freezing, incredulous horror. They stood staring, incredulous, silent, swept with a widening wave of horror.

The figure of Derek on the balcony was fading, turning luminous. A wraith, a ghost of his menacing shape standing there. It faded until it was almost gone, and then, as he reversed the mechanism, it materialized again. A moment pa.s.sed, then he stood again solid before them.

His voice rang out, ”Will you obey me now? I am a friend of the toilers!”

They were prostrate before him. There is no fear more terrible than the fear of the supernatural. In all of history there has been in our world no wors.h.i.+p more abject than the wors.h.i.+p and fear of a primitive people for its supernatural G.o.d. On the platform beneath the balcony, the palace soldiers stared up, horrified. Then they too were prostrate before Derek's threatening gestures and commanding voice.

I stood watching, listening. And suddenly, from the prostrate crowd, a man leaped up. In the silence his amazed voice carried over the garden.

”Alexandre! It is our Prince Alexandre! Our lost prince!”

He stood staring at Derek, his arms gesturing to his comrade around him. He shouted it again:

”Our rightful king, come back to us! Don't you recognize him? I saw him go! He went like that-fading into a ghost. Ten years ago, when Leonto killed his father and would have killed him had he not escaped!”

The crowd was standing up now. They recognized Derek! There was no doubt of it. The garden was ringing with the tumultuous shouts,

”Alexandre! Our lost prince has come back to us!”

My head was whirling with it. Derek, prince of this realm? I could see that it was true. Escaped from here as a young lad, when his throne was usurped. Returning now, a man, to claim his own.

And suddenly he turned and flashed me his smile.

The din from the garden drowned his words. The crowd was shouting: ”Alexandre! Our lost prince!”

The king's guards on the lower platform stood sullen, confused. I heard footsteps behind me. I whirled around.

From the room, the group of Rohbar's crimson n.o.bles were rus.h.i.+ng toward me! Their swords were out. One of them shouted, ”Kill them now! We must kill them and have done!”

There were five or six men in the group. They were no more than ten feet away from me. They came leaping.

I stood in the window opening, with only my dirk to oppose them. I shouted, ”Derek! Derek!”

I think I took a step backward. I was out on the balcony. It flashed over me-Derek and I were caught out here!

The first of the red cloaked figures came hurtling through the doorway. I leaped to avoid his sword. I saw the others crowding behind him.

Then I felt Derek shove me violently aside. I half fell, but recovered myself at the balcony rail. Five of the crimson n.o.bles were on the balcony. Derek confronted them. His aspect made them pause. They stood, with outstretched swords. The garden was silent; the crowd stared up. And in the silence Derek roared,

”Get back! All of you, go back inside! Back, or I'll kill you!”

In Derek's right hand he held the cylinder outstretched, leveled at the menacing n.o.bles.

”Back, I say!”

But instead they rushed him. There was a flash. From the cylinder it seemed that a ray spat out, a flash of silver light. It caught the three men who were in advance of the others. Their swords dropped with a clatter to the balcony floor. They stood, transfixed.

An instant. Derek's silver ray played upon them. Their red cloaks were painted with its silver sheen.