Death of a King Read online

  “Truly,” he said with obvious elation, “When did you arrive?”

  She worried losing Wil, “This is my first day…, in fact, I just arrived.”

  “Well, that is wonder…”

  Seeker interrupted, “Forgive me… oh, this is…” thinking of the words. “…embarrassing, but I need to go, and get some… how do you say… umm, things a woman uses on her time…” she widened her eyes emphasizing her point.

  Shock filled his face, “Oh dear heavens… I, uh, um please,” he blushed.

  She shrugged her shoulders and gave him a broken smile, “My gratitude,” he stepped aside. Seeker hastened down the corridor and found a door. It opened to a lower level then closed it behind her. The Drouwen assassin peered into the darkness and pulled her hood back. The wooden stairs didn’t creak under her light footsteps as she descended. Upon touching solid stone she listened for anything that may clue her in his direction. Nothing, then cautiously continued and spotted a weak glow in the darkness.

  In the distance, she noted a faint flicker against the ambient light beyond the narrow corridor at a corner. She gingerly made her way while securing her dagger. A candle laid on the floor on the corner to her right. It shed enough light to distort her vision. It took a moment to adjust, then scanned for any signs. Nothing other than a heap of clothes on the stone floor opposite the candle.

  The wooden ceiling creaked overhead as someone walked past. She examined the bundle and realized it was Wil, “Oh hell,” she whispered, then licked her fingertips and checked his nose and mouth for breathing, nothing. From what she could see, there was no wound or sign of foul play.

  Seeker returned above and to her surprise, the man that startled her was exchanging robes, “Gods be…, a raven dropped his feather…,” she played her part.

  He glanced over his shoulder, alarmed, “Sister, what is the matter?”

  “There is a dead man below…,” she said, somewhat surprised.

  “Heavens no,” he breathed as he guided Seeker to a bench and drew attention to others.

  Another acolyte joined them, “Is she well?”

  “Are you ill child?” asked another.

  “What is your name?” a priest joined them.

  The first acolyte secured his robe as he addressed the priest, “The young lady says there is a body below.”

  Seeker appeared genuinely stunned, “Angelique,” she answered truthfully.

  The priest addressed an acolyte, “Go and see what is below.” He nodded and proceeded.

  Seeker pondered her escape as the others hustled about. It wouldn’t be long before things would get chaotic. Within the growing chaos I’ll flee, she thought.

  Moments later the acolyte returned with a blank stare, “A dark cloud has fallen upon our temple,” they gasped.

  The priest’s heart sank, “Fetch the constable,” he ordered. “You,” he pointed at the other, “Inform the council,” he addressed the first acolyte, “Show me,” and waved others to follow.

  Seeker waited as the commotion build and added a few comments on what she saw and embellished her experience. Some gasped, others murmured as she spoke. Other temple members got wind of the murder. When the main floor grew crowded, she slipped away undetected.

  ***

  “Good morning magistrate,” greeted Cherie, his personal house servant. She pulled back the drapes to allow the morning light in. “Come my lord. We must ready you.” The portly magistrate laid still in the middle of his bed. The large bed dwarfed Ceron’s heavy stature. His plump midsection looked like a lonely hill on a flat plain. She suppressed a chuckle.

  Ceron displayed little grace in pretended sleep as he wiggled for comfort. The spirited servant always greeted him with a smile. He took a strong liking to her. With Cherie, he didn’t have to put on a facade. A few moments with her, he could for a short time forget the day to day mundane.

  She rested her tiny fists on her full hips, “It is every morning with you my lord?” she paused, nothing, then moved to the bed and pulled the bedsheets back. “Very well my lord, you win…” she started when she heard a curious rumbling followed by a fleshly rattle. She realized what happened and gasped, dropping the covers, “Good heavens my lord!”

  Ceron grabbed her, “Good morning dear,” he said cheerfully.

  She playfully pulled from him, “Oh gross my lord.”

  “Oh my dear, it is a natural expulsion.”

  The smell hit her, “Gods my lord, civilized people do not…” she struggled. “Oh, dear gods! Release me…, …air… I must breathe!” she panted.

  Ceron giggled as she wrestled. He knew she would grow faint if she continued restricting her breath, then released her. She teetered away from dizziness, “Forgive me Cherie,” he snickered.

  She fanned herself trying to catch her breath. Her cute little face flushed from the lack of air. His personal maid enjoyed their playful sessions, minus his smelly pranks. She relished her intimate moments with him, “I feel faint.”

  “Here, sit,” he scooted over. She stepped toward his bed when a rap on the door drew their attention as she sat, “Enter,” Ceron said.

  Another servant peeked, “Forgive me my lord…” she paused when she saw Cherie looking ill.

  “What do you require?”

  “A clergy brings dark news my lord.”

  He sighed while kicking the bedding from his feet, “Very well, I shall be down shortly…” then hasten his actions when he realized her choice of words, Dark news. His stomach turned at the thought.

  “Forgive me my lord, it regards a death.”

  His heart pinged with fear. He didn’t want to ask, for fear of the answer, “Who?” Ceron expected to hear the prince.

  “It is the acolyte Wil my lord.”

  He masked his expression at the name. A curious look came over his face. “The prince’s attendant?”

  She lowered her gaze, “Aye my lord.”

  Ceron scrambled out of his bed, “Good heavens!” he declared. His soft robe barely covered his frame. The servant blushed when she noticed the magistrates privates. She couldn’t imagine anyone male possessing such enormity and discretely exited the room. Cherie hastened to gather his clothes and dress him.

  She straightened and pressed his coat then brushed away some stubborn lint from the shoulders. Ceron studied himself in the mirror ensuring he was presentable. “How do I look?”

  She smiled childishly, “Handsome as always my lord,” then picked away at another stubborn lint and padded his shoulders.

  He tugged the ruffles in his sleeves, “Thank you my dear,” Ceron said elegantly while glancing at Cherie as he rushed out the door then downstairs where a cleric and knight awaited him. They informed the magistrate a new acolyte arrival named Angelique, discovered the body. In the back of his mind, he greatly feared the Ayrian Princess would depart and never return. He would do anything to make things right to ensure her stay. The name tugged a memory, “Angelique…” Ceron wondered if she was the same Angelique that traveled with the Ayrian princess.

  The acolyte nodded, “Aye… ill tidings befall us….” he studied Ceron, “An emergency session was called. Lord Gunthar is being summoned for the proceedings.”

  Ceron nodded knowingly, “I too have grave news my lord,” added the knight.

  “Oh dear heavens, not you too…” the situation has become much dire. Wil’s death meant Dregous may have fallen. “And the prince…?”

  “He lives….”

  Ceron felt a great weight off his shoulders and sighed deeply, then regained his composure, “What in the nine hells happened? We have cautioned his safety and now you tell me he was in danger this whole time!”

  The acolyte lowered his gaze, “We are uncertain…” he started.

  “Undammed certain!” Ceron shouted. Since his youth as a cutthroat, he didn’t take unnecessary risks or made any assumptions. He always went on facts.

  “We now believe he was in danger since the beginning,” answered t
he acolyte.

  Ceron studied him while a nervous flutter danced in his belly, “Where is he, who is with him and how was this discovered?”

  The knight explained what he learned from Lord Gunthar. Dregous is currently under the princess and her friend’s care. The magistrate listened while pacing, a habit he never could let go.

  “Gods damned it all, now I am informed!” Ceron’s face flushed with impudent rage. It was the first time anyone has seen the magistrate lose his temper. Unsure what to do or say, they remained silent. “Well, will someone do me the gods damn courtesy and explain?” his face reddened.

  “I have no answer my lord,” the acolyte stated as he bowed, “the council may.”

  Ceron struggled to regain his composure, “Of course,” and looked between them, “His condition?”

  “Weak at best my lord,” answered the knight.

  “Did you see him?” Ceron continued pacing, trying to decipher who is the orchestrator.

  “Aye, he has the look of death on his face…,” the knight added.

  ***

  For two days the Dark Elf mage slept under the princess’s watchful eyes. Someone tried to steal him away while under the care of humans. She wasn’t going to allow it.

  The Drouwen prince’s inky black complexion stood a sharp contrast against the white linen he slept upon. It was a strange and striking venue, but to the Ayrian princess, he looked beautiful. The rogue mage held a childlike innocence in his sleep. He took her breath away, followed with a sigh every time she gazed at him.

  He rolled and stretched slightly before waking to her brilliant smile, “Good morning lord hardhead,” she whispered, then stroked stray locks behind his pointed ear.

  He was getting used to the surface’s customary new day greeting, “Greetings Angel….” He stretched again while scanning the room. Fine and delicate decorations indicated he wasn’t in the academy, “Where am I?”

  She sat beside him, “Well to start, you are here with me…”

  “I see that.”

  “You did not heed me,” Tatiana couldn’t mask her sorrow, her near-white eyes tinged red as though she was about to cry.

  “Explain,” he tried to sound neutral, though he wasn’t sure he was successful.

  She held her emotions in check, “You should have done as I said, but no… you had to remain…, lord hardhead. You were imprisoned…” her voice echoed sadness.

  Dregous interrupted, “Dormed.”

  Tatiana’s sorrow was replaced with a bland look studying him, “Imprisoned.”

  He shied away, “What should I have done?”

  “During the proceedings, I told… no, I begged you to leave me,” she reminded. The memory of that horrible day rushed into her heart and barely suppressed a shudder.

  Dregous propped on his elbows, “I told you…”

  She stepped to the window, he followed, “You should have left my dear Dregous. You have spun the wheel, and in its motion, I will die upon the first cycle.”

  His heart skipped with fear, “What do you mean…, you will die…? Why are you talking such?” She addressed him as a faceless Dark Elf appeared from behind her, “Angel!” he warned. He tried casting, but his arms felt heavy. The mysterious assassin slit her throat. “NO!” he screamed.

  She stumbled and grasped Dregous’s shoulders. Tatiana spoke as blood gurgled and spat out from her mouth, “Dregous… …why did… you… kill me?” he gently laid her down.

  Tatiana shook him softly, “Dregous, wake,” she lightly lamented. Dregous woke with a start, then shouted when he saw the princess. He thought she was a ghost as he quickly scurried back bumping his head against the headboard, rattling his brain.

  Tuke and Rem heard a scream, “Not again,” the Half-Elf whispered, then rushed towards the commotion.

  When they charged into her bedchamber, Tatiana signaled them to stop, “You are here with me…,” she said. “All is well,” and addressed the others, “It was a dream.”

  “Well, he is looking better,” Tuke approached, looking tired. The group barely slept from their friends' nightmares. Those dreadful night visions that shake the soul of the hardiest of men.

  Panting, Dregous studied his surroundings, then sighed deeply, “I am well,” then wiped his face.

  “Another one?” Rem approached.

  Dregous nodded, “They seem to have no end.”

  “You must give it time,” Tatiana slid closer. “Aside from the dreams, are you feeling well… truly?” she stroked the hair from his face.

  Her soothing touch and bright smile calmed his spirit, but her demise echoed in the back of his mind. With a gentle smile, he ceased her hand, “I am well princess,” and kissed it.

  She beamed in return, “While you slept, the council agreed you will be under my care.”

  Dregous considered her words as he studied the princess curiously. “What changed their minds?” he asked.

  “You did,” Tatiana said.

  Rem cleared his throat, “She did,” and thumbed her direction.

  “How?”

  Tuke gained their attention by clearing his throat, “Perhaps we should leave him to rest…”

  “Oh, you know, the usual, I will bash their heads in, if anyone gets in my way,” he waved a hand, as if trying to recall her exact words, “…or gut them…, something along those lines…, am I wrong?” he glanced at the princess. “You know… being her usual self…,” Rem said. Dregous raised a high single brow with a knowing expression. He knew the princess, that was something she would definitely do.

  Tuke lost his speech, then managed, “Rem!” he hissed. Tatiana’s pale cheeks reddened and shily stole a glimpse at the prince, their eyes met. She turned away unable to look into his penetrating white eyes with blackened pupils. Eerie but beautiful to her.

  “What?” he pretended ignorance.

  “So, what did you do behind closed doors?” Rem changed the subject. The princess was grateful he did. She didn’t want to stain the floor or bed sheets with Rem's bloody nose.

  “Another time,” Tatiana said firmly.

  “As the princess said, another time,” Tuke added.

  Dregous looked at her, “All is well Angel,” he addressed Rem, “I did little; reading was my solace.”

  “Truly?” Rem wasn’t surprised though felt the need to ask.

  Dregous shared what he learned of the town's history. Three years ago, a powerful lord knight paladin was the first of the order that was expelled. He was brutal and merciless, unlike his order. He believed the order was soft, allowing weak sentiments to cloud their judgment. The coarse knight was excommunicated.

  He denied their excommunication, instead, he excommunicated them, then removed himself. The lost knight abandoned his great lands and keep. No one’s heard from him since.

  “Woo, I wonder if he is the one from the mountain?” Rem wondered aloud.

  “Curious you say such. The description is similar.”

  “Are you certain?” Tatiana asked.

  “What was his name?” Tuke question.

  Dregous released a sigh of disappointment, “That, was not recorded, unfortunately; or, if it was, it was removed.”

  “Most curious,” Tatiana chimed, Tuke pondered the information.

  “There is more,” Dregous announced, “The land granted him is recorded, however, the deed was not.”

  “That makes no sense,” Rem said.

  “Agreed,” Dregous replied, “Allow me to finish,” Rem mouthed an oopsie, then sat at the foot of the bed. “I discovered some discrepancies in the account but no sure way of finding answers,” Dregous raised a finger at Rem, holding him silent. “However, I did find the general direction of his former keep. Perhaps we may find answers there once we collect what is left at the outpost?”

  “I doubt it will be there,” Tatiana straightened as her hand rested on Dregous’s.

  Rem pursed his lips at the thought, “As much as it displeases me, she is correct,” he chinned
the princess.

  Dregous sighed, “Perhaps, but it still will not hurt to confirm,” he straightened without removing his hand from hers.

  “I guess,” Tatiana unknowingly caressed his fingers.

  ***

  A flash beyond the throne room broke through the door seams, drawing Chadzi and Urilah’s attention. Moments later in came Saug-fah, with her personal guards in tow. “Great lady I have news of D…”

  Urilah interrupted, “Does it have anything to do with the missing units?”

  “No great lady.”

  “Find them,” she commanded.

  “As you say, great lady. May I inform you of the news at hand… it is of great import.”

  Urilah was in a sour mood, but Chadzi wanted to hear, “Proceed.”

  A wistful look graced her fair features. “I have news from my surface contact…” she started.

  “On with it,” she snapped.

  She regained her composure, “By your will great lady. I know where prince Dregous hides.”

  Stunned by the news, Urilah didn’t notice Saug-fah address him as a prince, “What?” she breathed.

  Saug-fah continued, “My contact in the assassin’s guild tells me the prince helped the humans at Riverdale. He displayed grand heroics and grander powers for his grade. I am told he avoids oblivion on multiple counts.”

  She stepped centimeters from Saug’fah’s face, “How reliable?” she hissed gently.

  Saug’fah’s smirked, “Quite, great lady.”

  Urilah smiled, kissed her nose gently, “Waist no time to bring him home so we may publicly execute him.”

  She stepped back, bowed, “By your leave great lady,” then marched out.

  ***

  “Any news my lord?” Amethysia entered the dimly lit library. The candle’s spider silk strands encased by the hard wax base material from various insect husks made the flame burn red. She leaned against the opening, studying her husband, the Duke.

  Duke Dorian Von’Negrous raised two fingers as he finished writing his latest vision, “A moment my angelia,” He glanced at his wife when he finished writing.

  “A messenger arrived.”

  Dorian already knew the content of the message, and waited to hear her, “And?” he also waited for the anxious soldier to enter and inform him of the assault against the imperial palace.