And where've you been?' growled Bernice. I could have used your help.'

Kort just indicated Keri with his head and whispered back, exploring possibilities.'

When Nic Reece stole in, he shot a guilty and apologetic look at Bernice.

She averted her eyes. He apparently took this as a rejection and stood nearer the king.

In reality, Bernice's mind was whirling. There was something very odd about Reece's behaviour - it was almost as if the scene in his room hadn't happened; as if he was guilty about something different. He stood awkwardly, wringing his hands behind his back. Briefly it crossed her mind that he might be genuinely worried about the Doctor, after all they were old friends. Then the Doctor's admission that he'd never met Reece before the feast reminded her that there was something odd about this man she liked on the surface. The discussion with Lianna - the kiss. Heartfelt, she had thought, and yet he'd flirted with her the following morning as if she were the first woman he'd noticed since his wife's death.

Her attention was suddenly distracted: Tarrol had begun a proclamation sentencing the Doctor to death for the murder of a royal personage of Peladon. Beside her, Bernice could sense the anger and resentment pouring out of Centauri. To her left were Keri and Kort. From them she sensed . . . antic.i.p.ation? 'You're actually enjoying this,' she hissed at Kort.

In reply he reached out and squeezed her hand. Angrily she yanked it away.

The only people missing were Geban, Atissa and, of course, Savaar.

One of them walked in at that moment. Geban shuffled over to Tarrol, who had interrupted his soliloquy to listen to his chancellor's whispered message.

'd.a.m.n,' was the only response Bernice could hear.

Tarrol tapped at the floor with an ornate staff he plucked out of a guard's hand. 'Let the sentence be carried out.'

Bernice wanted to pull forward but Kort grabbed her with surprising force and shook his head. She looked over and saw Sskeet beside Reece.

Slowly Sskeet's head turned and he seemed to be staring at her. Staring hard. She wanted to turn away but there was something in his almost totally unreadable face, hidden behind his face mask. Then she realized.

Something else was happening here. It wasn't just the Doctor's execution.

Sskeet, Kort, probably the Pakhar as well. They were all in this together.

The plot? The theft of the treasures? My G.o.d, they've planned this all along. The Doctor and I have been framed!

Sskeet turned away as Savaar strode into the chamber. He was no longer dressed in full military regalia. His cloak was gone and he was sheathed in a tight-fitting ebon suit. His dark green helmet had been removed and in its place was an identical black one, his eyes hidden behind golden squares of gla.s.s. Bernice recognized the ancient code of attire as that worn by High Martian warrior chieftains centuries before, during the Martians' most barbaric period. She also noted that his slim belt had been usurped by a concession to the Pel calls for justice: a thick leather affair, decorated with metal shapes. Dead centre on the belt, just below his waist, was yet another carved image of Aggedor. The light flickered off its metallic sheen, almost giving the impression that the beast's head was actually moving.

But it was what he carried that really caught Bernice's attention: the sacred sword of Tuburr. He was going to use the Martian equivalent of the Pel Lance of Aggedor to seek retribution. His twisted idea of Martian justice.

The Doctor had been right to distrust the Martians all along.

The Doctor fell to his knees and bowed his head and Bernice held her breath. Dimly, from the corner of her eye, she was aware that the Pakhar was twitching her hand. As if it had gone to sleep. Then she realized she had her data-pad.

The b.i.t.c.h was actually recording the whole thing! Savaar raised the sacred sword of Tuburr above his head.

Tarrol spoke: 'Doctor. For crimes against everything held dear on Peladon, I now p.r.o.nounce you executed.'

Centauri went white.

Reece stared, his eyes suddenly eager? Geban turned away.

Sskeet was observing everyone.

Kort gripped Bernice's arm tighter.

Keri was still twitching her data-pad.

Tarrol nodded.

Savaar brought the sacred sword of Tuburr down.

On to the Doctor's neck.

Centauri squealed.

Kort gasped.

Geban shuddered.

Bernice screamed: 'No!' And the sacred sword sliced straight through the Doctor's neck and then hit the stone floor with a crash that sent sparks flying.

7: Soul Protection

Darkness. A bright, stabbing light. Cold. Solid. Nausea. Reaching out.

Solid. Push.

Atissa heaved herself up, groaning quietly. The cold floor of the relic room made her body shudder involuntarily and she managed to sit back as the wave of dizziness pa.s.sed. Her head hurt. She reached back and felt a large lump on the back of her skull, near the top of her spine. A few inches lower and her neck would have been broken. Either Savaar had meant to leave her alive or he had just been clumsy. The lump was sore but not angry - she'd been unconscious for a while.

The execution. She must have missed it.

Savaar was a fool. He should have killed her when he had the chance.

Now she could tell the king, Geban and everyone just how duplicitous the Federation really were.

Casually she noted that not only had the Lance of Aggedor gone but the Sword of Truth was also missing. She felt strangely calm about this. Along with the Crown of Sherak, all three items of the Pel crown jewels were now gone. Her case against Nic Reece and his Federation ideals was complete.

By the time she had finished, Peladon would be free. The king's easy compliance over the Doctor's execution was just the beginning. She had him eating out of her hand. Now it was time for the final blow.

Peladon was hers.

The old ways would once again be the new ways. For the good of her civilization, Atissa had to act quickly.

The throne room on Peladon was dark and underlit. King Tarrol sat hunched on his throne, Geban's abandoned robe beside him. A solitary guard stood by the door, staring ahead, not looking at his king.

'Find out where she is. She demanded an audience, she is keeping me waiting,' murmured the king.

The guard stood to attention and turned to leave when there was a knock on the doors. Slowly he opened it and saw Atissa standing outside.

'His Majesty has been waiting for you,' was his only comment as he pulled the door wide enough for the high priestess to enter.

Atissa strode in purposefully, the guard's words being of total insignificance to her.

'May I have permission to address the king?' she quoted.

Tarrol nodded and Atissa walked over, glancing down at Geban's cloak.

'Another traitor dealt with?' she asked.

Tarrol ignored the question. 'What do you require, High Priestess?'

Atissa shrugged. 'Your Majesty, tomorrow morning is the biennial restatement vows day. Before such a momentous occasion can be held, I demand that all offworlders - including that ridiculous Alpha Centauri - are escorted away from Peladon, never to return.'

'An interesting set of demands to make of one's monarch, High Priestess.'

'You have no choice, Tarrol. Your power is weak and purely academic. The true power on Peladon is the sacred spirit of Aggedor. He has consistently proved that the Federation presence is not one that he desires. I, as his vehicle, can only convey his thoughts.'

'Or your interpretation of his thoughts.'

Atissa stared at the king. And smiled. She turned to the guard by the door.

'You may a.s.sume duties elsewhere.'

The guard looked fl.u.s.tered but a sharp 'Get out' again from Atissa sent him scurrying.

'You see, even your personal guard is loyal to Aggedor rather than their insipid king, Tarrol.'

Tarrol didn't flinch. 'All my life, Atissa, I have attempted to reconcile my love of Aggedor with my belief that this planet must go forward. Recent events have, I know, placed a great deal of strain on you and for that reason I am allowing your manners to be somewhat less than primitive at the moment.

However, I am still king and....'

Atissa reached out and grabbed Tarrol by the collar, yanking him out of his throne. 'You? King? Don't flatter yourself, Tarrol. You are nothing. Aggedor has decreed that he shall return to take power. Through me. You shall remain a figurehead for the people but you and your forefathers relinquished the honour of ruling when the first non-Pel foot was set on this planet. When your great-grandmother crashed here, it was the beginning of the darkest chapter in our history. But from tomorrow, that will change. A new dawn will break over Peladon and we shall once again be free of the yoke of Federation technology, deceit and interference.'

'For what, Atissa? The yoke of superst.i.tion? The yoke of slavery to a religion that has no real meaning to the people today? Will Aggedor feed them? Will Aggedor provide jobs, security and a future?'

Atissa flung him back into his throne. 'You . . . you animal!' she spat.

'Before the Federation, Aggedor supplied it all. The Federation gutted us, left us filleted and empty. Now he will regain our love and belief. If you cannot go forward with Aggedor, rest a.s.sured he will take no hesitation in destroying you and ending the royal line immediately.'

Tarrol looked up, his face ashen. 'You would really go that far?'

'If I had to, Tarrol. Aggedor will sweep you aside like a blugrat. And I, as his servant, would aid him in every way. My loyalty to him is absolute.'

' "I", "Aggedor"? You can't tell the difference any more, Atissa. You are totally insane.'

'No, Tarrol. I am not insane. Accusations such as that are the last refuge of desperate losers. I am not mad - I am right!'

Tarrol suddenly realized that he had gone too far. 'Atissa, listen to me. We have executed the Doctor. The Federation will soon depart. There is no need for this . . . this power struggle.'

Atissa laughed. 'Savaar actually did it? After attacking me and stealing the relics he went ahead and removed the Doctor. Oh, joy!'

'Savaar attacked you?'

'Yes. In the relic room. He stole the Lance of Aggedor and the Sword of Truth to go on his trophy wall along with the Crown of Sherak. Now I will deal with him. He has a.s.saulted Aggedor's servant. Aggedor wants revenge.'

Tarrol pushed past her and scooped up a large jewel-encrusted box. He yanked open the lid and pushed it towards her.

In it lay the severed head of the Doctor.

Atissa reached out, her eyes glinting in pleasure and something Tarrol could only think of as pure l.u.s.t. l.u.s.t for death and destruction. He s.n.a.t.c.hed the box away and slammed the lid down.

'Do you want this for your trophy wall? Do you want Savaar's head as well?'

Atissa was quaking, exultation screaming through her body, her hands trembling as she gripped the side of Tarrol's throne and dropped into it.

She lay her head back, staring at the ceiling where a ma.s.sive image of Aggedor's face was carved into the stone.

'Yes,' she breathed. 'Yes, I want them all.'

Tarrol turned away from her and walked into the curtained pa.s.sage to his quarters, leaving on his throne a woman he once liked and admired but could now only think of as totally and utterly demented.

Behind him Atissa's shadow was quaking in time with its owner's quiet laughter.

'Well?'

'She's totally mad. I can't stop her, Doctor. She is, however, satisfied that you are dead.'

The Doctor reached out and held Tarrol's shaking arm. I'm so sorry, Your Majesty. I know how much you want to help her, but I feel it has gone too far.'

Savaar walked out of the shadows. I however must thank you for your help in our deception. It was brave of you. I understand that the cost of apparently betraying your a.s.sociates is high.'

'Friends, High Lord. Geban, Centauri, Reece. They are my friends.'

Indeed, Your Majesty.'

The Doctor looked over at Savaar. 'Who else was in on it?' Savaar considered. 'The Pakhar journalist. It was her holographic equipment that we utilized. The Cantryan boy. Sskeet. No one else.'

'You didn't tell Benny?'

'No. Shsurr Summerfield's reaction had to be realistic.'

'She won't thank you for that.'

'She dislikes me, I accept. I am sure when this ruse is exposed, she will understand.'

The Doctor beamed. Oh, she'll understand, High Lord. But she still won't like it.'