Science fiction -- Periodicals; Science fiction, American -- Periodicals
"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 passed, 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 worship more abject than the worship and fear of a primitive people
for its supernatural God. 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 nobles were rushing 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!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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