"O. K.!" he called. "The man at Crannar Jurth's called in. Crannar
Jurth contacted him with a midget radio he has up his sleeve; he's in
the palace courtyard now. They haven't brought out the victims, yet,
but Kurchuk has just been carried out on his throne to that platform
in front of the citadel. Big crowd gathering in the inner courtyard;
more in the streets outside. Palace gates are wide open."
"That's it!" Verkan Vall cried. "Form up; the parade's starting.
Brannad, you and Tammand and Stranor and I in front; about ten men
with paralyzers a little behind us. Then Yat-Zar, about ten feet off
the ground, and then the others. Forward--_ho-o!_"
* * * * *
They emerged from the temple and started down the broad roadway toward
the palace. There was not much of a crowd, at first. Most of Zurb had
flocked to the palace earlier; the lucky ones in the courtyard and the
late comers outside. Those whom they did meet stared at them in
open-mouthed amazement, and then some, remembering their doubts and
blasphemies, began howling for forgiveness. Others--a substantial
majority--realizing that it would be upon King Kurchuk that the real
weight of Yat-Zar's six hands would fall, took to their heels, trying
to put as much distance as possible between them and the palace before
the blow fell.
As the procession approached the palace gates, the crowds were
thicker, made up of those who had been unable to squeeze themselves
inside.
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