by Brian Hayles
"Doctor..." murmured Jo weakly, "what was it?
The Doctor's face was grim, as he replied, "That, Jo, was an Ice Warrior ... product of the planet Mars!"
"You've met them before?" asked Jo wonderingly.
"Yes. And they aren't very pleasant company," replied the Doctor, drawing back the tapestry that hid the concealed door. "This is no place for us. Back to the tunnel - come on!"
But the wall was closed. The Doctor was so intent upon finding the catch that would release the secret door and allow them to escape, that he barely noticed the sound of the approaching guards - until it was too late. He turned to find himself, like Jo, pinned against the wall by a ring of ornate but vicious pikes. This time, there was no escape. Jo caught the Doctor's look of resignation and agreed with him.
"Alright," she sighed. "Lets give ourselves up. At least this lot look human..."
In the throne room, the delegate Arcturus and Alpha Centauri had taken their place before Peladon, who with Hepesh and Grun flanking him, patiently awaited the last delegate to join the group: Izlyr the Martian, and his lieutenant Ssorg. When the Martians had taken their place, the guards closed the great doors behind them. Peladon observed Izlyr as he approached the throne and greeted the king. Where Ssorg was massive and brutal, Izlyr was sharply elegant. His helmet head revealed his rank; his speech and physical presence spoke without doubt of the martial tradition which had formed him. Although documented as officially representing the Galactic Federation as an agent for peace, every inch of him bore the hallmark of the warrior class. He spoke with icy precision.
"We are here at your request, King Peladon. Address us."
Peladon nodded graciously and, with a gesture, greeted the assembled delegates. He spoke without formality. He knew it was imperative that these aliens believe in his sincerity. If they did not, everything was lost.
"Thank you for your attendance," said the young king pleasantly. "By now, you know of the tragic incident involving my Chancellor, Torbis. Since his sad death, it is Hepesh, my High Priest, who acts as my administrator. The loss was a personal one. Torbis was more than my adviser; he was a trusted friend."
"But he was killed," stated Izlyr coldly. "Why?"
Before Peladon could answer, Hepesh stepped forward and spoke. As High Priest, Chancellor, and acting regent, he had this traditional right. But Peladon's eyes flashed in quiet anger as Hepesh boldly addressed the aliens.
"The death of Torbis was a supernatural warning!" he cried. Before he could continue, Peladon interrupted.
"Hepesh offers a personal opinion, not mine. He claims this tragedy is connected with one of our more ancient legends - "
With a faint whine of his traction unit, Arcturus skimmed forward slightly and gave voice. "Your priest speaks of a warning. Perhaps it is more than that."
"It is a superstition - nothing more!" exclaimed the young king, "It has no bearing on the purposes of your committee. You must understand that!"
"On the contrary," hissed Izlyr, "the incident could represent a meaningful threat - to us, and to the Federation."
"But it was Torbis who died," insisted Peladon earnestly: "This legend concerns my people only!"
Alpha Centauri was agitated but not yet hysterical: "Your ancient legend seems rather violent and unpleasant ... and rather too convenient."
"Its timing disturbs me," agreed Izlyr. "Explain this legend to us - now!"
Hepesh looked towards the young king with the merest hint of challenge in his eyes. The royal youth was powerless to refuse. He nodded grimly. With a bold gesture, the High Priest indicated the tapestry behind the throne and, on it, the representation of the Royal Beast, Aggedor.
"It concerns the Royal Beast of Peladon," he declaimed with quiet authority, "a creature now extinct, but once the fiercest of all wild beasts on this planet. Only young men of noble birth would hunt him to prove their courage. His fur was so rare that it was used to trim our royal cloak and the coronation crown. And it is his majestic head that is our royal symbol."
Alpha Centauri muttered an aside to Arcturus, making sure it did not reach the throne. "These are such barbaric practices ..." The hexapod sighed, its sensors trembling at the thought of such a violent creature.
"Mighty is Aggedor," continued Hepesh in the voice lie used in the main for religious celebrations and state ceremonies, "and it is written there will come a time when the spirit of Aggedor will rise to warn - and to defend - his royal master, Peladon. For, at that time strangers will appear upon the face of the land, bringing peril to the king, and dreadful tribulation to his kingdom."
The eyes fixed on the High Priest suddenly saw him falter. His eyes stared past the assembled group towards the doorway. For a moment, he showed an unease rarely seen upon his face. The others turned to see what had disturbed him so deeply. Standing there surrounded by armed guards, was the Doctor, with Jo at his side. Even by the humanoid standards of the Pels, Jo and the Doctor looked unusual - it was as though by speaking the legend aloud, Hepesh had brought part of it alive. Peladon stood, surprised and intrigued by the new visitors. His gaze fell most intently upon Jo who, in spite of her recent ordeals, managed to look elegant and beautiful. And it struck both Peladon and Hepesh that this Earth-alien had the face and form of Ellua, long dead.
In his turn, the Doctor stared intently at the strangely mixed gathering about the simple throne, and his eyes narrowed as he saw the commanding figure of the Martian warlord move towards him. The Ice Warrior they had seen earlier stood close by his shoulder. Jo tensed at the menacing approach of the grim pair, and the Doctor tried to reassure her.
"It'll be alright Jo..." he murmured as she glanced appealingly towards him. At his words, she tried to smile. The warlord came to a crisp halt directly before the Doctor. Then, with a swift, imperious gesture, he first struck his own left shoulder with his clenched fist and offered his open gauntleted hand in greeting to the Doctor.
"Chairman delegate from Earth - greetings!" said the warlord with chilly formality. "Delegate Izlyr, subdelegate Ssorg."
The Doctor managed to acknowledge the greeting with suitable dignity. The other aliens now approached. Jo edged closer to the Doctor, and tried not to shudder at the bizarre parade of alien forms before her: the massive and threatening Martians, then something that looked like an operatic octopus - she lost track counting the tentacles - and, finally, a travelling goldfish bowl with a nasty-looking creepy-crawly swimming about inside. It was all too much! Like the Doctor, however, she concentrated on being sociable; at least their arrival hadn't turned out to be too unwelcome. None of those in the throne room noticed the discreet withdrawal of Grun, the King's Champion, as he moved stealthily from behind the throne to the half-concealed doorway that gave access to the balcony over the door outside.
"Delegate Alpha Centauri," piped the gleaming hexapod, waving its tentacles excitedly, "the Galactic Committee is much in need of your experience and judgement."
"Delegate Arcturus," clipped out the mechanical voice of the floating neuroplasm. "You are late."
"My apologies to the Committee," the Doctor replied quickly. "My space shuttle... a forced landing, on the mountainside. I'd like something done about recovering the machine."
It was Hepesh who stood before the Doctor now. His face was haughty and his voice coldly suspicious. He made no gesture of greeting, and he seemed to be deliberately avoiding the presence of Jo.
"The recovery of your space vehicle will be arranged," he said. "I am Hepesh, High Priest of Peladon. Protocol demands that you formally present your credentials of office to King Peladon. Hand them to me."
Hepesh thrust out his hand. The Doctor could only gesture apologetically. "I'm sorry. That isn't possible," he said. "You see, we lost everything in the crash."
Hepesh didn't look as though he believed this impromptu explanation, but before he could question it, Peladon spoke out from the throne.
"We can deal with the protocol later, Hepesh. Present the delegate f
rom Earth, and his companion."
Hepesh was not to be denied all formality, however. He glanced at Jo's slightly rumpled hair, then questioned the Doctor sternly. "I assume this female is of royal blood?"
Jo couldn't help smiling at the thought, but as she made to deny the mistake, a small gesture from the Doctor kept her silent.
"My dear chap," the Doctor addressed Hepesh cheerfully, "what makes you ask that?" The High Priest's arrogant expression showed how much he despised the ignorance of this new alien.
"You are standing within the Citadel of Peladon," he explained. "This throne room is royal and most sacred. Each guard is of noble blood, and each seeks to uphold the honour of his king. Only such men of rank, and females of royal blood, may set foot here ... "He paused, meaningfully. "The penalty for trespass ... is death."
Jo was not to be kept silent any longer, but what she said next made the Doctor raise his eyebrows in surprise.
"Doctor- " she exclaimed regally, dismissing Hepesh with a sweeping wave of the hand, "I refuse to deal through intermediaries. Kindly present us to your royal host!"
For a moment, Hepesh was rendered speechless by Jo's words. The Doctor stepped in quickly.
"Yes, of course," he muttered hastily, then moved forward past Hepesh to the foot of the throne, Jo's hand resting on his with regal condescension. "King Peladon - as Earth delegate, I greet you. May I also present Her Royal Highness Josephine, Princess of ... "For a brief second he floundered, "Princess of Tardis!" Jo curtseyed deeply, while the Doctor bowed. Peladon indicated that they should rise. His words were addressed to them both, but his eyes were fixed on Jo. He could see now that she was not as he first thought, a living reincarnation of his mother, Ellua the Earth Princess. But he had seen how even Hepesh had been startled by the uncanny resemblance to portraits of his mother as a young woman. To those who believed in omens, this beautiful visitor must point to good fortune! "Greetings, Princess, said Peladon, smiling warmly. "I'm sorry that your long journey ended so uncomfortably."
Jo smiled at the young man who sat before her. He might be a king, but he certainly wasn't stuffy or snobbish, for all the splendid clothes he wore. He must be about my age, Jo decided. Handsome, too. And as he was being so friendly, she could afford to be one up on the Doctor for a change. After all, she was a Princess - he was a mere Doctor! "The whole business was quite deplorable, your majesty." She threw a half-glance at the Doctor, then, continued. "The pilot was unfortunately rather inefficient."
The Doctor looked at Jo indignantly, but could say nothing. In any event, he was still trying to work out just what he - as Chairman delegate from Earth - was doing on the planet Peladon in the company of these other aliens. Still, at least the king seemed friendly enough. Perhaps, the Doctor thought wryly as the king continued to address Jo, a little too friendly for the High Priest's peace of mind.
"I'm glad it was nothing more serious," said the king. "You bring a welcome beauty to a solemn occasion."
Jo was pleased with the compliment. "Thank you, your majesty. You're very kind." At the same time she was uneasily aware of Hepesh's cruel eyes, boring into the back of her head. She concentrated on Peladon.
"As you may know, my mother was an Earthwoman," continued the king.
The aliens, not understanding the significance of this apparently trivial conversation, fidgeted, restlessly. No one noticed that one person was missing - Grun.
The King's Champion had by now reached the top of the short stair that gave access to the balcony over the throne room doors. He paused, lithe-footed and silent as a cat, for all his burly strength. From behind him, the voice of the king mingled with those of the aliens. Soon they would come out into the corridor below. He must be ready for them. Underneath his ornate perch, two guards stood impassive and unhearing. They must know nothing of what he was about to do. The simple instruments that he would need lay waiting behind the great stone statue of the Royal Beast. Grun made the holy sign of obedience and set about his task. Even with the block of stone as fulcrum and the metal bar as a lever, it would not be easy. But Grun's mighty strength would do the rest, when the time came to act.
Jo had turned from the throne to face Izlyr.
"Princess, what is your power on the Committee of Assessment?" he asked.
The Doctor knew that Jo had even less idea of the purpose of the aliens Committee than he did. He answered for her quickly.
"The Princess is present," he said affably, "as a royal observer. We felt the situation called for it."
Izlyr understood and was satisfied." Ah, I see, he commented with a brief nod. "As on my planet, you still preserve the aristocratic process ... "
"Yes," observed the Doctor, "in a democratic sort of way." He returned Jo's little smile of gratitude.
Arcturus, however, was not particularly pleased.
"Chairman delegate," rapped out that metallic voice, "we are not here to indulge in social diplomacy!"
"Er - no ... of course not," mumbled the Doctor, still without knowing the purpose of the Committee. Fortunately, Arcturus provided the answer.
"Our purpose is to consider admitting this somewhat backward planet into the Galactic Federation."
"Thank you for reminding me," replied the Doctor, his mind on Izlyr. What was an Ice Warrior warlord doing on a Committee such as this? Alpha Centauri's fluting voice broke into his thoughts.
"Unfortunately, the success of our mission is threatened already - by violence!"
"That's hardly a promising start, is it?" replied the Doctor pleasantly. "What has happened, exactly?"
On the balcony, all was ready. Grun had inserted the metal bar beneath the base of the statue. His hands rested on it lightly, ready to lever it from its base. He listened intently to the distant sound of voices coming from the throne room. Soon the audience would be ended and the aliens would enter the trap.
"The King's Chancellor has been killed!" squeaked Alpha Centauri.
"Destroyed by a legend," observed Izlyr with chilly disbelief.
"It is a blatant attempt to intimidate the members of the Committee!" grated Arcturus.
The Doctor's voice cut across the babble of accusation like a schoolmaster correcting unruly infants.
"Gentlemen! We are members of a formal committee and not a gang of squabbling children!" The group fell silent. It was Izlyr who spoke next.
"Your reproof is deserved, Chairman delegate. This discussion should be continued elsewhere."
"Then let us proceed to the delegates conference room," rasped Arcturus.
"A splendid idea", said the Doctor, and at Peladon's nod of agreement bowed and led the other delegates towards the throne room doors and out.
Grun heard the sound of the great doors being opened by the guard below. He took firm hold of the lever and set his full weight to it. First, it must reach the point of balance. After that, it would fall easily. His eyes watched for the telltale gap at the base of the statue. The sound of the aliens" movements below urged him to even greater efforts, and he felt the movement begin. One last thrust - and Aggedor would have his revenge!
The Doctor Must Die
Outside the throne room, the Doctor paused and turned back to let Jo join him at the head of the group. He smiled politely at Izlyr who was standing close behind him, and started to speak - but the sentence never came. A fine drift of stone dust had fallen onto his cloak and, brushing it off, the Doctor looked upwards. Almost in the same movement, with a speed of reflex that would have done credit to a wild animal, he hurled himself at the group behind him, bringing them down all of a heap. They had not even reached the floor when the great stone image smashed into the ground beside them with a terrifying impact.
Peladon jumped to his feet and moved forward in alarm. Before he could reach the door, Hepesh had checked him, his face full of foreboding.
"No, majesty-there is danger! Wait!"
"But what has happened?" cried the young king, full of apprehension. "If any of the delegates have been
harmed ..." The rest of the sentence went unspoken, but the meaning was known to both the king and to Hepesh. The aliens had weapons not yet seen in action on Peladon. Their vengeance would surely be a terrible one.
"It is your majesty's safety that matters," said Hepesh. But his eyes were not on the king. He was deliberately screening the return of Grun. Like a shadow, the King's Champion glided to his royal masters side. The king looked back at him, unaware that he had ever been away. But, thought Hepesh grimly, how well had he succeeded?
The Doctor, helping Jo to her feet, turned to find Izlyr standing over him, hand extended.
"You saved our lives, Doctor." His harsh, hissing voice sounded genuinely grateful, but the Doctor could read nothing from his mask-like face.
"Sorry I didn't have time to explain," joked the Doctor, and moved across to the shattered statue, its terrifying face turned upwards to the smoky ceiling. The guards nearby made no move to help. They crouched, heads bowed, moaning with fear.
"This is outrageous," wailed Alpha Centauri, tentacles thrashing about wildly. "Terrible! We could have been killed." The hexapod's colour was palpitating green and blue.
Arcturus was, as expected, unemotional. He trundled close to the fallen statue.
"The gravitational forces involved were in excess of humanoid resistance," he computed flatly. "Serious damage would have resulted on impact."
"Your objective reaction is admirable," observed the Doctor drily, "but you might've been killed too, Arcturus."