Part 2 (1/2)

Sherak's original foe grunted at him and turned towards the a.s.sembled group by the crevice. It roared, louder than before and they slowly turned and went back in.

'You saved me, monster. You protected me. Why?' As if in answer, the creature stepped towards him, staring at the double-bladed sword. Sherak noted that the sunlight glinted off it every time he moved, almost rhythmically.

The creature seemed fascinated by the light. Sherak kept twitching the sword, making sure that the light reflected back into the creature's small eyes. Instead of roaring, it seemed to almost purr and settle down in front of him. Gingerly, Sherak reached out with his bloodsoaked hand and touched the creature's accidental injury from the spear. As his blood touched the creature's, Sherak felt a thrill go through his body.

And he realized his quest was over.

He had tamed the savage beast. They had protected each other and were now some kind of simplistic blood brothers.

After a few moments, the beast stirred. It looked up at Sherak and he momentarily wondered if he had been wrong. Had it let him lower his guard only to strike him down?

No. The creature lurched away, licking at its wound. Just as it reentered the crevice it turned back and roared. After it vanished, Sherak settled back on his haunches, looking at his two weapons.

A rustle behind him made him swing round. He winced as his ribs reminded him of his injuries. Munching at the gra.s.s was his equinna, saddle intact.

'You found a route down? There is no doubt that Peladon animals are more intelligent than their masters.'

Slowly he remounted, strapped his blood-tainted weapons to his back and let the equinna return him to the Citadel.

Sherak's return had been magnificent. Crowds had flocked to see him, cheer him and praise him. Two medical men had attended his wounds and once he was comfortable, he returned to his throne room to rest - one place where he could determine who could and could not disturb him.

He s.n.a.t.c.hed a piece of parchment and quill and began to sketch out an image of the monster's face. His protector. No - the Royal Protector. He glanced at the drapes adorning the plain throne room. Yes, the face would be savage but a reminder of his humbling but exciting victory over legend.

He called for Uthron.

Moments later the old man hobbled in.

'My Chamberlain - I succeeded. And I have brought back a new love for the people. Something for them to revere as I do. The Royal Protector and Sacred Beast of Peladon.' He held the sketch up to Uthron.

The old man took the picture. Aggedor! You have seen the legendary beast?'

'We are blood-brothers, Uthron,' said Sherak and retold his adventure.

At the end he clasped Uthron's shoulder. I want that put everywhere. On doors, on sculptures, within our garments and drapes. It will be a symbol of the unified Peladon.'

It will be done, my King.'

Sherak sat back, wincing slightly at his wounds. 'So, where is my father?

Where is the king's champion? Why is he not here to help celebrate his son's victory over legend and the G.o.ds?'

Uthron swallowed and straightened himself up. 'He is gone, Your Majesty.

Shamed at his outburst, he packed his belongings and left the Citadel shortly after you rode away.'

'We must find him!'

'Your father is a great warrior and a proud man, my liege. He has left the mountain altogether and no one knows where he is. He does not wish to be found. Or shamed any further.' Uthron paused, waiting for a response.

Instead, Sherak stared at the floor, mute and . . . sad? Angry? Uthron could not tell. After a moment, the king looked back at Uthron, the blue eyes again having turned cold as steel. 'So be it, old man. Take that parchment and do as I requested . . . ordered.'

Uthron bowed low and left the throne room. As he stood outside the double doors to catch his breath, he thought he could hear laboured sobs from within. Clutching the parchment tightly, he sighed and went to see the palace sculptors and painters.

Sherak, First King of Peladon, died aged sixty-five - a good age. He married a beautiful maiden, a distant relation of Uthron's, and bore five children, including two boys. The eldest died in his teenage years after an accident in the caverns and so the younger boy adopted his father's crown.

The new king never met Gart, his grandfather, but was filled with tales of the champion's bravery by his father. All records of Erak's pretence to the throne were wiped from history - he was just remembered as an evil baron defeated by the young King Sherak.

Aggedor went on to become a legendary beast and protector. To invoke his name was the ultimate praise and to blaspheme it was punishable by death. A high priest of Aggedor was appointed to all subsequent royal courts. These could also trace their lineage back to Uthron, making a vaguely incestuous but compact royal bloodline.

Many generations later, a new young king sat on Peladon's throne. He was Kellian and his throne room was forever occupied by two older men. Both brown-haired, in long flowing capes of burgundy and silver, their burgundy hair stripes were also picked out in their beards. Cousins; Torbis was the king's chancellor whilst Hepesh was the high priest of Aggedor. Kellian valued both men's friends.h.i.+p above all else, although he had been heard to comment that Hepesh's interest in Aggedor verged more on the obsessive.

When the strange lights in the sky came, Hepesh said it was a portent of doom - Aggedor would one day rise to smite his enemies and these lights were that enemy. Torbis was more rational and offered to take a party out to see where these lights had landed.

Kellian agreed and Torbis set off. It was rumoured that pots of iron could be found where stars crashed, but no one had yet proven this. Maybe Torbis would be the lucky one.

The prize Torbis returned with was not a pot of iron but something far more precious to the young king. She had short blonde hair, large watery blue eyes and a broad, ingratiating smile. Her robes were tattered and bloodsoaked, but she still carried herself with an air of n.o.bility: 'My name is Ellua, Princess of Europa. I am from a planet called Earth, many light-years from here.' The words meant little to Kellian - perhaps she was what she said, an alien. Perhaps she was an emissary from the G.o.ds. Either way, her beauty and charm were worth far more to him than pots of iron.

It transpired that her s.h.i.+p and two escorts had been caught in an ion storm and lost their way. They were heading for the Galactic Federation base on a.n.a.lyas VII when they were caught in Peladon's forceful orbit. 'Your three moons are a very strong deterrent for low-level shuttle flying, my liege,' she said at one point. One of her escort s.h.i.+ps had gone too low and the other two had come in to try and mount a rescue. All three had ultimately plummeted to the ground arid although the s.h.i.+ps were wrecked. no lives had been lost, but one pilot was severely injured.

If we don't get him to a.n.a.lyas VII urgently, he will die.' Kellian had been struck by her pain and anguish over the man's well-being.

'But surely he is only a servant. A courtier? Is his life really worth that much to one such as you?'

It was the only time Kellian ever remembered Ellua getting angry. 'His position is irrelevant! He is a man like you. A living person. Of course his life matters. All life is sacred - it's not to be decided on royal favour!'

Using their communicators, Ellua's entourage contacted a Federation support s.h.i.+p and so received help. They took away the wounded man, who was later reported to have made a full recovery. Kellian and Ellua, however, never strayed from one another. She told him of the many worlds in the heavens, of the evil and the good. Of the Federation and what it could do to help his planet.

She married him a year later - Torbis acting as regent although Hepesh refused to bless the couple; another less xenophobic priest married them.

Within six months Kellian had applied for Federation aid and members.h.i.+p.

A diplomatic team arrived to a.s.sess the planet and quickly departed, suggesting that Peladon was still needing to establish its own social structure before the Federation would interfere. They a.s.sured the king and queen that they would return in about twenty years to rea.s.sess. Ellua alone was made aware of one other thing about Peladon - the Federation were very interested in the natural trisilicate that lined its caverns. Peladon would have a great economic future if the Federation could one day mine that trisilicate. Only as the twenty-year deadline neared would Ellua tell her husband that. To announce that now would encourage him to risk Federation involvement too early. She knew that the Federation were right - Peladon needed further social development and, as queen, she could help foster that.

Another year later, a son was born. Kellian wanted to use a traditional royal name, pa.s.sed through the generations. It would be appropriate as he will be king when we join the Federation. The name Sherak has long been beloved of our people and a symbol of change for the better.'

Ellua disagreed. I think the best name would be the one that would announce him on other worlds with great flair and flourish. A memorable name. He should be Peladon of Peladon!' Over the next few years Kellian and his wife, aided by Torbis and, to a small extent, by Hepesh, educated the boy.

The old men would place Peladon on his father's knee and tell him of Aggedor. Of his planet's history. Of the Federation and of all the great things each could bring to the other.

One day Hepesh and Torbis quietly placed him upon the actual throne. He was twelve years old.

I cannot sit here, my friends. Rightfully, it can only be my father's place!'

Hepesh cleared his throat and with a brief glance of disdain at Ellua, stared straight at Peladon. 'Though the blood that flows in your veins is mingled with that of strangers, yet you shall be Peladon of Peladon. Greater than your father. Greater than any past or future king.'

Ellua knelt down beside him. 'My son, your father has been taken from us.