The planet of peril
snarl like that of a cornered hahoe, then twitched convulsively.
A ringing cheer broke from the throats of the vast multitude:
"Long life to Grandon of Terra, Emperor of Reabon!"
Not knowing what was expected of him, Grandon stood still until a young
prince plucked at his elbow and whispered:
"Step before the throne."
He followed this sound advice and waited, stiffly erect, while Vernia
descended and gave the imperial scarbo into his keeping.
"Mount to the throne," she bade him in a whisper, "and place the scarbo
across the arms as you saw me--" Suddenly she paused with a scream of
terror. "Look behind you--quickly!"
* * * * *
He whirled in time to see Destho, his face contorted with rage and his
scarbo descending in a shimmering arc. There was no time to parry the
blow, but Grandon leaped aside with catlike quickness, then caught
the blade with the imperial scarbo, twirled it with a rapidity that
the eyes of the astonished witnesses could not follow, and sent it
clattering to the floor.
His weapon gone, the wily Destho turned and sprinted desperately for a
side door. Soldiers ran to intercept him, but before he reached them a
man attired in a bloody, tattered uniform leaped out from the ranks of
the commoners and caught him by the beard.
"Thus should all traitors die!"
As the words rang clear above the tumult, a knife flashed aloft for
a moment in the hand of the soldier, then plunged into the breast of
Destho.
Grandon arrived on the scene in time to see the plotter lying on the
floor with bloody froth issuing from his mouth and trickling down on
his wiry beard. His assailant had fallen across his prostrate body, and
Grandon, in surprise, recognized Zueppa. The wound inflicted on Zueppa
by the man he had just slain had been reopened by his exertion. In a
moment both were dead.
Four soldiers removed the bodies and order was restored with surprising
celerity. Again Grandon moved to the foot of the throne where Vernia
awaited him, wide-eyed and trembling. He took her hands in his for a
moment, then she resolutely bade him proceed.
Upon his return the four kings had prostrated themselves on the
steps leading to the throne in accordance with the customs of their
ancestors. Grandon hesitated to mount those four human steps. He turned
to Vernia.
"I am emperor now, am I not?"
"Assuredly, my lord."
"And my word is law?"
"So long as it does not conflict with the written constitution of
Reabon."
"Is this matter of mounting to the throne on the backs of one's vassal
kings written into the constitution?"
"No. It is traditional custom that has been observed for generations
and signifies the complete submission of the heads of the various
kingdoms."
"Then it shall be abolished. I expect loyalty from my subjects, but not
abject servility."
Then, to the surprise of the four kings, he bade them rise and stand,
each man on the step he occupied, two to the right and two to the left.
Thus attended, Grandon mounted to the throne while the spectators
looked on in amazement.
* * * * *
When he had taken his seat with quiet dignity and rested the scarbo
across the arms of the throne, Vernia mounted and bowed before him with
right hand extended palm downward--an example which was followed by the
entire assemblage. It was indeed a day of surprise for the good people
of Reabon, for no sooner had she knelt before him than he, in violation
of an age-old custom which decreed that the empress should sit at the
feet of her lord, swung the scarbo to one side and lifted her up beside
him on the throne.
"You shouldn't have done this," she gasped. "It is not the custom. My
place is--"
"Custom be hanged!" he responded, and there, in full view of that vast
multitude, he kissed his bride full upon the lips.
The crowd responded with a resounding cheer.
"A long and happy reign to our brave emperor and his beautiful empress!"
Then the shimmering scarlet curtains crept around the throne, and
Grandon forgot all else when two soft arms stole around his neck and
the fluffy head of the most glorious woman of two planets nestled on
his shoulder.
"I don't understand about the proclamation yet," he said, at length.
"How and when did you manage to change it?"
"It was changed before I affixed my signature," she said, "else I
should sooner have died than sign it. While Destho's attention was
momentarily drawn to you I crossed out his name and substituted yours.
I then allowed the scroll to roll half downward, as if by accident, and
when he turned he saw that I was signing and, happily, never bothered
to unroll it again!"
At a loss for suitable words to express his admiration and adoration,
Grandon sought refuge in banality.
"You wonderful little woman," he said.
And the "wonderful little woman," being, after all, more of a woman
than a princess--which was as it should be--flushed happily at his
words of praise, and with eyes half veiled as though to hide the
wondrous promise they revealed, tremulously surrendered her lips to
her chosen lord.
* * * * *
At midnight, two weeks later, Grandon and Vernia stood on the roof of
their palace watching the movement of a metal cylinder that was slowly
screwing itself into place in a huge sphere of asbestos and steel.
Bordeen had left that day for Uxpo with the Fighting Traveks. Oro,
Rotha, and Tholto had accompanied Joto and his Granterrites back to
their people in the Valley of the Sabits, and Harry Thorne and Vorn
Vangal had flown for Olba, as the former Martian was anxious to be with
a certain beautiful princess who awaited him.
They had bidden Dr. Morgan good-by after helping him into his ponderous
diving suit, had watched him clamber aboard, draw up the ladder and
close the cylindrical door, and now waited to see his remarkable
interplanetary vehicle begin its long journey back to Earth.
At length the cylinder clicked into place, and Grandon signaled two
attendants, who flashed a powerful searchlight on the sphere.
Slowly it rose, rocking gently at first like a toy balloon on a
flexible wand. Then, with a suddenness that was appalling, it shot
swiftly skyward. The searchlight swung upward, groped about for a
moment, making a flashing spot of light on the fleecy clouds, and then
found its objective. In that incredibly short time the sphere had
traveled so far as to have the diminutive appearance of an orange. A
moment later it was but a tiny pin-point of white. Then it disappeared.
Grandon ordered the light shut off and turned to go, when Vernia laid
her hand on his arm.
"Look," she said. "Your world and your moon."
He looked, and for a brief moment was vouchsafed the glorious
spectacle of the Earth and her satellite, through a break in the
clouds--the most brilliant and beautiful sight in the night-time
heavens of Zarovia.
Then he turned to the infinitely more lovely vision beside him, and
together they descended the stairs.
THE END.