The Trigan Empire

Later that afternoon, refreshed by his nap, Krusi went to find his new friend. He discovered Simbal floating in the pool—face downwards!

Simbal, are you all right? Simbal—speak to me!

But Simbal had finished for ever with speech!

He’s . . . He’s . . .

It was then that temptation entered the life of the formerly honest street sweeper . . .

Why not? . . Why not, indeed?

And so . . .

After all, he can’t spend his money now!

The late millionaire was laid to rest in the lovely garden of the villa.

Put it this way, Simbal—you told me you had no friends or relations. So there’s no harm done to anyone. The money will simply go to waste otherwise . . .

Why shouldn’t I—Krusi the poor street sweeper—take over the identity of Simbal the millionaire?























Investigating Simbal’s room, Krusi suffered something of a shock . . . 

Who would have thought that anyone—even a millionaire—could be so untidy?

Dressing himself in fine clothes, he went out to the garage.

What an automobile! And mine, all mine!

At about that time, on a hillcrest in far-off Cato, a heli-jet was descending upon a hidden encampment.

Out stepped the three thugs who had called upon the millionaire Simbal—with such dire results to his well-being.

Well—was your mission successful? Did you eliminate that treacherous animal and discover the whereabouts of the loot he stole from us?

Simbal we discreetly disposed of. But, though we searched his quarters, we were able to find no clue as to where he hid the loot!

You eliminated him without getting the information? Fools! Dolts!—You should have brought him back here! Chango would have made him talk!

The leader of the bandit-tribe turned to address a fearsome figure.

Chango! The proceeds of ten lunar years of successful crime is somewhere in or around Trigan City! You will find it—if you have to take the city apart, stone by stone!

Trust me!

This instalment was originally published in Look and Learn issue no. 770 on 16 October 1976.

With rousing pageantry, the Emperor of the Trigans led the parade of his armed forces through the streets of the capital on the anniversary of the founding of the empire.

Long live the Emperor!

Thank you, my people.

No one in that vast multitude was more loyal than the slight figure in a green uniform.

This was Krusi. No soldier, he, but merely a street sweeper, for the Trigan City Council. The procession past, Krusi went back to work.

Not discontented with his humble lot, but sometimes rather wistful—that was Krusi.

If only I could have been somebody instead of a nobody!

And then . . .

A wallet—and well-filled, by the look of it.























More money than I’ve ever seen in one wad before.

And there’s a name and address on this card . . . ‘Simbal—Villa Lorca, Zora Heights, near Trigan City’.

Zora Heights was a district where the very richest Trigans lived. Without a moment’s hesitation, the young street sweeper walked to the Villa Lorca and knocked on the door.

Tell your master, Simbal, that I have his wallet. He must have dropped it during the Empire Day procession.

I am Simbal.

But it’s all here! What an honest young fellow you are!

Of course, sir. I work for the Trigan City Council. They don’t employ dishonest folk.

Simbal invited Krusi in for a rich meal.

I am not a Trigan, but a citizen of Cato. It was in Cato that I made my fortune. And now, having no family, I have decided to settle down and end my days somewhere in the beautiful Trigan countryside.

After the meal . . .

I like you, Krusi. You must stay with me for a few days. Why don’t you have a nap till supper time? Unless, like me you prefer a dip in the swimming pool.

I think I’d prefer a little nap.

Simbal plunged into the luxury pool.

That young fellow is so transparently honest that I can’t afford to let him go. He will be of tremendous help to me. I will employ him as my confidential secretary.

Some time later—uninvited visitors.

How did you ..?

How did we trace you here? You really didn’t think you were going to get away with it, did you?

We don’t want to hurt you, Simbal. Tell you what, just duck your head under water and keep it there while I count up to a thousand, real slow . . .

This instalment was originally published in Look and Learn issue no. 769 on 9 October 1976.

Gazing savagely about the plain, the great black war-kreed saw . . . an intruder!

Ho, there!

Responding angrily, the kreed leapt forward.

Unless he overtakes me and runs me down, the first part of my ruse has worked.

Janno leapt . . .

If I miss my handhold, I’m done for!

Some distance away, a hidden marksman saw that Janno had reached safety.

Perish, Trigan.

But . . .

No. Don’t shoot!

Why? I had orders from the Elders.

If Janno dies, the accursed Trigan Emperor is going to execute the elders!

At that moment, Janno leapt.

And now—the second part of my ruse!























He landed in the fiery beast’s saddle.

Then followed a struggle for supremacy.

Ho-hah!

It culminated in a breakneck gallop over the plains.

It was evening. The Zallu guards on the gates of the city stared in awe . . .

Look!

It can’t be!

In through the gates rode Janno, the master of his mount.

Everyone said that no one would ever mount Zorpho’s kreed again.

They were wrong!

Through the streets rode Janno, with the stubborn Zallus marvelling.

We acknowledge Janno as Overlord!

We will no longer obey the Elders!

By conquering the wild kreed, Janno had subdued the warlike Zallus, and he received the personal thanks of his uncle, the Emperor.

Lad, you have done well. After what you have done, the Zallus will follow you, and the Trigan Empire, anywhere!

This instalment was originally published in Look and Learn issue no. 768 on 2 October 1976.