Part 1 (2/2)

Uthron's already parchment-like skin went a shade whiter.

The warrior laughed. 'His response should have been to change his name, eh Uthron?'

Uthron realized that his volatile Lord was not likely to like whatever response he gave to that question, so he swallowed hard and said, Indeed, my Lord,' and nothing else.

'Chamberlain Uthron, I wish you to record in the palace records that I, the greatest warrior ever born on Peladon, have been appointed by the G.o.ds to become king of Peladon. From now on, the name Erak will be known throughout history as the first and greatest absolute monarch of this planet.'

Uthron bowed a little bit lower than before. Erak nodded. 'You may go, Chamberlain Uthron.'

'My Lord . . . Your Majesty,' he corrected quickly. 'Where do I locate the palace records to mark this momentous occasion in?'

Erak stared at Uthron. He c.o.c.ked his head first to one side then the other.

Then he grinned. 'By the G.o.ds, Uthron, you are a wit! I shall enjoy you being my chamberlain. There are no palace records, yet. You will have to start them from this moment. Off you go!'

Uthron had moved to the drapes when Erak beckoned again, this time in a rather bored tone. Oh, Uthron. Get someone in here to clean this lot up, will you?' He lazily reached out with his sword and skewered Voss's head neatly through the eyes.

'Yes, Your Majesty.' Uthron left swiftly.

Two hours later, after three wenches had carried, mopped and dried, Erak sat back in his throne, closed his eyes and remembered glorious battles.

It was raining. Hard. The battlefield was pure mud, and he was almost forced to jump every time he wished to move. Faithful Gart was at his side as they slashed and hacked their way through the menfolk of Narral's village. Narral - pretender to Peladon's throne. Ha!

Before long every able-bodied man in Narral's village lay dead in the mud.

Erak had lost none. Narral himself stood in front of a large stone hut, sword brandished.

erak!' he yelled. 'You have no right to take rule of the planet. We have survived generations with each village appointing a headman to be on the joint council. You are an evil butcher, not a king!' Erak had smiled and rocked back on his heels with laughter. And you, Narral, are the last of those weak-willed councillors. They all lie dead, their villagers with them.'

'Then you will have no one to lord over, you monster!' Narral shouted back.

Erak strode towards his foe, as much as the mud would allow. Narral waved his sword in front of him but Erak grasped the end, ignoring the cutting edge. He squeezed and the blade shattered. With his other hand he reached out and grasped Narral's right shoulder, crus.h.i.+ng the bones to dust. He grinned at his agonized foe, palmed his right hand, drew it back and then pushed forward, ripping directly into Narral's stomach. As his hand went in, he grabbed Narral's backbone and pulled down sharply.

Narral died instantly as his neck was broken, and Erak withdrew his hand.

Tossing the body aside, he marched into the hut. An old woman, three boys and six girls aged, Erak guessed, at between nine and fourteen, cowered at the back.

Gart entered. 'My Lord?'

Erak threw a b.l.o.o.d.y arm around his friend's shoulder. 'Gart - our warriors need amus.e.m.e.nt. The girls are theirs - when they have finished with each one, they may of course dispose of them.'

The old woman gasped in horror. Erak's blade flashed briefly and she fell dead. 'The boys?' asked Gart.

Our brave warriors must be hungry, Gart. There's little meat upon them, but these wars are hard for all of us. It is a long while since we have tasted meat!'

The three boys instinctively gripped each other as this time Gart's sword sung its lethal song.

Erak was awakened suddenly by a noise. He sat up in his chair, furious that his memories of past glories had been disturbed.

Of course, there had been a fair bit of dramatic license in his dream - Narral had been an old man who died of a seizure early on in the battle; Erak had lost fifteen men and although the young girls had been raped and slaughtered so as not to breed inferior or tainted stock, there had been no little boys to eat. That part had come out of necessity months later when needing a threat to ensure his own children went to bed on time. 'Go now, or your father will eat you as he did Narral's sons!' was a frequent bellow in his chambers.

The drapes were drawn back and Uthron cowered there.

'Well?'

'Your Majesty - there is a young warrior to see you. He . . . he . . .'

Out with it, Chamberlain! You need not be afraid of your king!'

Uthron, of course, was completely terrified of his king and being told that he ought not to be only made things worse. 'Your Majesty, he says - and I only report what he says - that he challenges your right to be Peladon's monarch. He says. . .'

'Yes, yes, I get the idea, Uthron. Send this new pretender in - I'll soon kill him and be done with it. Off you go.'

Moments later, Erak confronted his would-be usurper.

He was a young man - probably in his late teens. A shock of blond hair hung to his neck, the traditional burgundy stripe not yet stretching to the tips of his hair. Like Erak, he wore a simple toga, his of white. It barely covered a lithe but taut frame, muscle and sinew evident but not exaggerated. The boy had not seen a great deal of combat but was clearly fit and healthy. He carried only a short training sword but something about him sent an unaccustomed chill through Erak.

It was his eyes. Piercing blue eyes, of the sort normally a.s.sociated with scholars and artists. Yet they possessed an inner fire that left Erak in no doubt he faced a mature, intelligent and capable fighter.

Determined not to let it be seen that he was slightly surprised by the newcomer. Erak reverted to his brazen, gruff act. 'Well, well, well,' he laughed. A boy. A child whose loins have barely felt gravity. Who would send such an innocent against me, King Erak of Peladon?'

'My Lord,' the boy said in a soft but strong tone. 'My Lord, you cannot be king until you are publicly enthroned. You must let the people see this event, so that they may truly know it has occurred.'

Of course!' Erak nodded quickly. In fact he had no intention of being crowned in public. He knew he was king, and besides some foe might take the opportunity to a.s.sa.s.sinate him. However, he could not say this in front of the child. No. 'My coronation will be a spectacle for all to behold. Lavish and glorious, it will mark a new age for Peladon.'

Indeed it will, Your Majesty. An age of death, doom and destruction. An age when a man who slays young girls out of fear will rule. An age when a man who cuts down old women in case they spit at him will rule. An age when a man who fears his own shadow and murders old men because their names do not sound right will rule. In short, Your Majesty, an age in which Peladon will succ.u.mb to, and never escape from, sheer terror. No age of greatness but an age of stagnation, deceit and lies. You are not fit to be king of a cesspit, let alone an entire planet. I shall stop you.'

Erak looked at the boy, and laughed. 'You have guts, I'll grant you. I suspect that they shall be set before me on a dish before this night is out however, boy. What do they call you?'

'I am Sherak.'

'The name is familiar, boy, but I cannot place it right now.'

'No, Your Majesty, I did not expect you to. I am too lowly, too far beneath you. Yet I shall be First King of Peladon. A benevolent and just king who will bring his people together in unity, trust and - '

Erak had drawn his double-bladed sword and lunged at Sherak before the boy had finished his sentence. Sherak's own blade parried expertly and held the blow. Erak reached behind him and drew his barbed spear. He lashed out towards Sherak's head, but the younger man ducked, letting his sword take more pressure from Erak's. At the last second, he spun on the b.a.l.l.s of his feet, whipping his sword away and Erak unbalanced, his double bladed tool cras.h.i.+ng into the ground. 'You are a cold warrior, boy,'

acknowledged Erak. 'But your inexperience shows - sadly there will not be time for you to profit by my teachings.'

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