Deathstalker 06 - Deathstalker Legacy Read Free Page A

all the good he'd done, the lives he'd saved and the things he'd accomplished, no one would ever set his image in stained glass after he was gone or set aside a Throne for his return. He was a Paragon, and he'd done his job. That should be enough.
    To be King was actually a step down, as far as he was concerned. This vast and glorious Court was only there for show, for Ceremonial matters, and the kind of empty pageantry the people still loved.
    Power lay with Parliament, as of course it should. The King had a place there, but only as Speaker, to preside over debates and provide an impartial voice, to help Parliament reach its decisions. As it should be, of course. The Members of Parliament represented the worlds of Empire, one Seat to a planet; they were the Voice of Humanity, and expressed its will. Mostly. But never again would any one man or woman be allowed dominion over Humanity. Not after Lionstone.
    Douglas approved. He really did. It was just that ... if he had to be King, he wanted it to mean something.
    Desperate for distraction, Douglas's gaze wandered over the hundreds of people scurrying back and forth in the Court, until his eyes stumbled over a short, stocky man in a shimmering white gown and tall jewel-encrusted mitre, and then he had to smile. It was good to know there was someone in the Court who wanted to be there even less than he did. As tradition demanded (and there's nothing more intractable than a fairly newly minted tradition), the new King would be crowned by the Patriarch of the Empire's official religion; the Church of Christ Transcendent. However, the current Patriarch had been in his job for only about five minutes, following the sudden and very unexpected death of the previous Matriarch in an accident apparently so embarrassing that the Church still wasn't willing to release any details on the subject. So the new Patriarch, chosen by blind lottery from among the hundred and twenty-two Cardinals, had turned out to be an extremely inexperienced twenty-seven-year-old man from a backwater planet who'd only been made Cardinal because no one else on that world wanted the position. No one doubted his sincerity or his good intentions, but it was clear to Douglas that the new Patriarch couldn't have been any more nervous if someone put a gun to his mitred head. Pretty much the whole Empire would be tuning in to watch him crown the new King, and the opportunities for screwups, fiascos, and making a complete bloody pratt of himself were almost limitless. The current Patriarch was currently walking up and down, endlessly shuffling and rechecking his notes, while mumbling his lines and accompanying himself with emphatic gestures. The servants were watching him out of the corner of their eyes and giving him plenty of room.
    Douglas's smile widened into a grin as he considered the happy possibilities in sneaking up behind the Patriarch and saying Boo! very loudly.
    And then he jumped and yelled himself as a firm hand took hold of his right ear and twisted it sharply.
    Douglas swore loudly, as much in shock as in pain, and then froze as everyone in the Court stopped what
    they were doing to turn and look at him. King William had released his ear by now, but Douglas could feel the fierce blush reddening his cheeks. He gestured curtly for the servants to continue in their tasks, and they did so. But he just knew what they were thinking. Douglas turned and glared at his father, who grinned nastily back at him.
    "Teach you to pay attention when I'm talking to you, boy. I may be old, decrepit, and far from my prime, but I am still your father and your King, and while I am speaking I will have your full attention and respect. Is that clear, Douglas?"
    "Yes, dammit! Jesus, I bet the other Paragons don't have to put up with this."
    "Now then, where was I? I hate it when I can't remember things . . . Ah yes. Would it surprise you to learn that I never wanted to be King either? My father just took it for granted that I