All that day and the following night, Z led his warriors at breakneck pace through the wilderness.

You must slow the pace! Our warriors are falling out. Half the force is gone!

The best will keep up my pace! They are the ones I want to fight alongside me in the coming battle!

At dawn on the next day, Z halted on a hillcrest and looked down at the horde encamped in a valley below.

We have overtaken them!

And now we will destroy them!

The desert warriors, convinced that they were safe from pursuit, were feasting upon the rich food and drink that they had looted.

It was Trigo—the slave-Emperor with the lost memory—who raised the alarm!

We are being attacked!

The Trigans rode through the encampment with fire and sword.























Trigo’s master tossed him a weapon.

Fight for your life, slave! The accursed Trigans will not be giving any quarter this day!

Brag spurred forward as he saw a tall figure swinging a long blade. The figure turned to face him . . . and he was looking into the countenance of his own brother!

By all the stars!  . . . Trigo!

There was no answering cry of recognition. Instead Brag’s world dissolved in a sea of pain, as his sword arm was beaten down and he fell from his careering Kreed with stunning force.

Aaaaaagh!

Trigo vaulted astride the riderless mount . . . 

I’ve no part of this quarrel!—I’m getting out of here!

He was nearly clear of the scene of battle, when a Trigan guardsman took aim and fired at the figure on the galloping Kreed.

Soon after, the last of the desert horde were overpowered, and the fighting ceased. Z looked about him.

What of the prisoners, Imperial Majesty?

They are to be spared. Send them back home on foot, without their Kreeds. They will never raid Trigan territory again!

Meanwhile, Janno was tending his father. Brag tried to rise, and he called out frantically.

Trigo! Trigo was here! What happened to him?

Calm yourself, Father . . . 

He’s wandering in his mind!

This instalment was originally published in Look and Learn issue no. 676 on 28 December 1974.

At dawn, the sleepy quiet of the Trigan seaport town of Rilli was split by the war-shrieks of the desert marauders.

Ayeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeh! Hi! Hi! Hi!

The small garrison gallantly turned out—but was immediately overrun and cut down. ;

By noon, Rill was a blazing mass, and the war-horde was on its way back to the desert, loaded down with loot.

The armourer and his slave—who was none other than the Emperor Trigo, who had  lost his memory—were carrying loot in plenty.

Did you see the way our warriors sliced through your Trigan guards, eh?

They are not my Trigan guards, master. My former life is meaningless to me!

Meanwhile, back in Trigan City, Brag and Janno were listening to the amazing new Emperor addressing the council.

I have found much that is wrong with the Trigan Empire. Firstly, I have found great inequality between the very rich and the very poor which was why I permitted Zacho and Serro to impose the one-third tax on all citizens . . . 

The council listened with respect and awe to the stranger who had ridden in from the wilderness and taken the Imperial Crown for himself.

Those scoundrels planned to put the m money to their own use. I shall see that it is employed to feed and house the poor people of our Empire. Trigans must learn to stand together and help each other.























At that moment, there came an interruption . . . 

What is it, messenger?

Sire! I have just ridden from Rilli. A horde of desert warriors attacked at dawn. The city is in flames and the demons are departing back into the wilderness with their loot.

There was an immediate uproar in the council chamber.

Let us send the Air Fleet to blast them.

Those barbarians must be taught a sharp lesson.

A squadron of armoured fighting-vehicles will do the trick.

No!

You will never catch the desert horde that way. They mock your fighting machines. Only the old methods will serve. We must ride and seek them out. We must fight them, blade to blade and sinew to sinew.

Will you ride at my side, Brag? And you, Janno?

I will!

And I!

I knew I could rely on you!

Catch, Brag.

Within a short space of time, every able-bodied warrior in the city was mounted and ready. They thundered out of the gates with the amazing Emperor at their head.

Death to the invaders!

Father. This is just like old times.

Like riding to battle behind Trigo! Yes. The same thought had just occurred to me.

This instalment was originally published in Look and Learn issue no. 675 on 21 December 1974.

The door of the dank cell creaked open, and a harsh voice summoned two wretched prisoners.

On your feet, Lord Brag and Lord Janno. Your time has come!

Father and son clasped hands.

We are being led out to execution! Farewell, Janno.

Farewell, Father.

Instead of being led to the execution block, they were taken to where the strange usurper sat alone.

Good day to you, my lords. I see you are alive and well, if a trifle grubby. You should have provided washing facilities when you had the cells constructed.

Brag found his voice.

I take it that we are to be executed?

It was to save your lives that I let Zacho and Serro lock you up. Otherwise they would have destroyed you, as I fear, they have already destroyed Trigo.

Speaking of Zacho and Serro—those two miscreants have already begun to suffer for their crimes. Come and see.

The two rascally ex-councillors were chained to a water-wheel that irrigated the Palace gardens.

Where did we go wrong about Z? Where?

It’s all your fault. You said he couldn’t read or write.

Who are you and what are you trying to do?

I am Z . . . 

And I am going to save the Trigan Empire!























Meanwhile, far across the barren wilderness, in the desert city of the warrior-people.

With tomorrow’s dawn, we march against the provinces of the Trigan Empire.

Ayeeeeeeee! Let the Trigans beware!

The armourer and his slave loaded their cart. They, too, were setting out with the war-hordes on the morrow.

There’ll be plenty of work for us during the campaign, and the prospect of loot. How do you feel about marching against your own people?

I can remember nothing about my former life, master. It means nothing to me.

Thus spoke the rightful Emperor of the Trigans.

At dawn, the long column crossed the barren Plain of Vorg. Suddenly . . . 

I hear patRolling air craft! Take cover!

Blow the alarm!

At the sound of the trumpet, every warrior dismounted and covered himself and his Kreed with his sand-coloured cloak. The wheeled transport did likewise.

It’s a Trigan patrol craft. He’ll never see us. For all their technology, we shall prove to them that the old ways are the best.

When night began to fall, the invaders came to the shores of the great ocean. Below, the lights of a prosperous seaport burned brightly.

Our first objective!

With the dawn’s light, we will descend upon that town with fire and sword! When the suns are in the Zenith, it will be ours!

This instalment was originally published in Look and Learn issue no. 674 on 14 December 1974.