The Rebel of Rhada by Robert Cham Gilman Page B

expected betrayal, but the form of it left him half maddened with rage.
    Landro said, “Put down your weapons. There is no need for you to die.”
    Kier did not trust himself to speak. Now he knew what he had thought he must know, but he had bought the knowledge at the price of a fine horse and his freedom. His, Cavour’s, and Gret’s. God help them then if the plan so carefully made with Nevus and Kalin failed to work.
    “You are under arrest for treason and conspiracy, Kier of Rhada,” Mariana called. “Don’t make us kill you where you stand.”
    Kier raised his sword and said bitterly, “I had this weapon from your husband’s father, Mariana. I promised never to raise it against the Empire.” He brought it down across his knee with all his strength and shattered the god-metal. Then he threw the two pieces from him, ringing on the stones. “But there are other swords, Queen!”
    Cavour, who was, as he had said, no swordsman, dropped his weapon readily enough and murmured to Kier, “But why don’t they kill us and have done with it?”
    “They will send you and me to the tower,” Gret murmured. “I cannot sense what they intend for Kier.”
    “Is that all you sense?” Kier spoke in a swift, low voice. “Quickly!”
    “Erit is near,” the Vulk said, “and still free.”
    Landro shouted a command, the Vegans closed in, crossbows ready. “The sorcerer and the Vulk-thing to the Empire Tower. Take The Rebel to the Empress’s apartment.”
    Kier looked up at Mariana. Empress? He had expected treachery and had provided for it. But he had not foreseen high treason and the downfall of a king. Even The Rebel’s imaginings had not gone so far as that.
    Was Torquas still alive, he wondered? Had Mariana dared to murder the living symbol of the Vykan Dynasty? And Ariane? What of her? Gret said Erit lived, and he himself thought he had seen Ariane at the tower window. But was it truly she, or did the daughter of the Magnifico he this minute in some unmarked grave on some forgotten planet half the galaxy away?
    “Cavour,” he said urgently in the Rhad tongue. “If I am not with you when Kalin’s time comes, you must not wait.” He silenced the warlock’s protest with a gesture. “You must reach Sarissa at all costs now. The star kings must know what has happened here. I command it.”
    There was no time for more. The Vegans separated them roughly. Cavour watched, with uncertain heart, as his young king was led off between ranks of armed warmen. The warlock’s courage faltered then, but only for a moment. If things had suddenly become much worse than he could have foreseen, then his responsibility to the Empire--and to his young master--was simply that much greater. “Events test the man,” old Aaron used to say.
    Cavour felt the mailed hands of the guards close on his arms. No one touched the Vulk. Instead, they prodded him ahead at the point of a sword. In the rain-misted distance, Cavour could see the gloomy megalith of the Empire Tower, a symbol of death--and hope.
     
     

6
     
    What must the King do now? Must he submit?
The King shall do it. Must he be deposed?
The King shall be contented. Must he lose
The name of king?
    Attributed to one William Shakespeare, a Tudor propagandist of the pre-Golden Age.
    Fragment found at Tel-Avon, Earth
     
    If a king be taken, let him die
If a king be murdered, let him lie
For power is in the edge of a sword
And a helpless king is no man’s lord.
    From the Book of Warls, Interregnal period
     
    Torquas stood at the rubbled parapet of the Empire Tower looking down at the vast panorama of Manhat spread out a kilometer below him. He stood heedless of the rain, his cold forgotten, half frightened by the sheerness of the drop before him and yet excited by the scene far below.
    Behind him stood Janver of Florida, the stone-faced giant who was the engineer of the tower. And at Janver’s side stood the captain of the Vegan detachment that had brought the Galacton to this