Deathstalker 06 - Deathstalker Legacy

Throne, King Douglas cried out in shock and horror as he saw
    Lewis fall to the unexpected disrupter shot. A single media camera had followed Lewis, its operator curious as to why the Deathstalker had chosen to leave the fray, and when the Deathstalker went head to head with the Wild Rose, the camera operator realized he'd stumbled onto one hell of an exclusive. The whole Empire watched the duel, live; and saw Lewis struck down by treachery.
    The King was on his feet in a moment, Jesamine weeping and clinging to his arm. The House was silent, watching the King uncertainly. Anne was yelling in his ear, but he wasn't listening. Douglas stepped down from the raised dais, and onto the floor of the House, almost dragging Jesamine along with him. He looked at the exit, and the House was very still as everyone waited to see what he would do.
    "You can't go!" said Anne, so loudly she hurt her throat. "Douglas, listen to me! You're the King. Your place is here."
    "He's my friend," Douglas said, not bothering to subvocalize. "They've killed my friend. I have to go to him."
    "You have to stay here and keep this place from falling apart! You don't know he's dead!" Anne made an effort to lower her voice, knowing only reason could reach Douglas now. "You have a duty not to put yourself into danger. Who's to say Lewis wasn't shot deliberately, to try and tempt you into leaving the safety of the House? Lewis wouldn't want to be responsible for your death. Don't play into their hands, Douglas. There'll be time for vengeance later. You have to stay here. Keep the MPs from panicking, and agreeing to something stupid. You have to put your feelings aside, for now. You have to set an example, for the House. You're the King."
    "What kind of King abandons his friend? His . . . dying friend?"
    "One who knows his duty. Please, Douglas. You can't go out there. It's what they want, and you know it. If they kill you, they win. And Lewis ... will have died for nothing."
    Douglas turned slowly, and looked back at his golden Throne. And in that moment, it seemed more like a trap than anything else. But because he was the King, and a Campbell, and a man who had always known his duty, King Douglas walked slowly back across the floor of the House, stepped back up onto the dais, and sat down upon his Throne again. He looked out over the silent House with cold, unforgiving eyes, and didn't even notice Jesamine was gone. He looked at the MPs, and they looked back, waiting to see what he would do. Douglas turned away from them, and looked at the esper representative. The young man who spoke for the oversoul stood up to meet his King's gaze.
    "When I speak," Douglas said slowly. "The oversoul hears. All of you. Yes?"
    "We all hear you," said the young man. He didn't look anything special. "What do you wish of the esper gestalt, your majesty?"
    "Stop the riot," Douglas said flatly. "Do whatever you have to. Whatever it takes. But stop the killing."
    "No!" said Meerah Puri, quickly on her feet. Other MPs rose to join her. "Your majesty, I protest! We can't use espers against humans!"
    "Shut up," said Douglas. "You had your chance, and you did nothing. Nothing but squabble and bicker, while good men and women died. I have done what was necessary, made a decision where you couldn't.
    That is what a Speaker and a King is for, isn't it?"
    "You had no right to commit us to this!" said Michel du Bois, and other angry voices joined his. Douglas laughed in their faces. And then the esper representative spoke, his young voice somehow cutting effortlessly across the uproar.
    "It's done," he said calmly. "The oversoul has teleported troops and gravity barges directly into position outside the House. Telepaths are quieting and controlling the minds of those who still feel like fighting. It's all over now, your majesty."
    "Damn you, Douglas," Anne said quietly. "What have you done?"
    When Emma Steel became separated from Lewis Deathstalker by the mob, she was briefly lost, but she quickly spotted another familiar face in Paragon armor and purple cloak. She fought her way through the packed crowd, cutting down men and women with crazed faces and mostly improvised weapons, trying not to let the madness of the mob infect her. It would be only too easy to give in to anger, to kill for revenge instead of justice; but Emma Steel was a Paragon, and Paragons didn't do that. She was outnumbered, betrayed, surrounded by maddened rioters who would have torn her to pieces with their