At midday, Imperial Guards roughly drove people from their houses and into the Great Square of the city. Hey! What’s going on? Why are we being treated like animals? By order of the Imperial Council, all citizens are to assemble to hear an important proclamation. Later, one of the conspirators, Zacho, spoke to the people. It is the will of the Imperial Council that, as Trigo has declared that he would relinquish his Imperial Crown to he who smashed the Stone of Vorg, the stranger called Z be crowned Emperor. Janno’s voice rose in angry protest! That’s not true! My uncle did not say he would give away his crown unconditionally. We must await his return from the wilderness! Zacho hissed to the guards’ commander . . . Have him struck down . . . and earn yourself promotion. Instantly, my lord! Janno was silenced . . . and his father with him! By all the stars! Not so fast, Lord Brag! Uuuugh! There was no further protest. Before the eyes of the assembled multitude, the stranger who had come out of the wilderness was crowned with the Imperial diadem of the Trigan Empire. By virtue of the authority of the Imperial Council, I proclaim you Lord of life and death over the peoples of the Empire! Immediately after the ceremony, Zacho and Serro brought their “puppet Emperor” to his study. We expect no trouble from the rest of the council, but the former Imperial Family must be put under restraint. Here is an order to that effect. If your Majesty will please sign . . .Z signed with a cross, a fact that did not escape the two sneering conspirators. As a result of the Imperial order, Janno and Brag were taken to the dank vaults beneath the palace . . . You can’t do this to us! Throw them in here. Father and son were hurled into a dark cell, there to brood over the fate of the empire. What will happen to Uncle Trigo when he returns? If he returns. I’ve a feeling that they’ve done for him already! Far out across the barren wilderness of Vorg, a band of savage warriors were journeying to their desert city. They espied a still form in the distance. See! It was the deposed Emperor of the Trigans, left for dead by the ruffians who had ambushed him. He is a Trigan, I can tell by his raiment. What is your name, Trigan animal? Speak! I . . . I . . . What hope remained for the Trigan Empire? Its founder and true leader had lost all memory of his identity! I don’t know my name, or who I am!
This instalment was originally published in Look and Learn issue no. 671 on 23 November 1974.
