LEGEND OF DEATH'S ASSASSINS

CHAPTER 16

His lips parted with a smile that certainly did not reach his eyes as he stroked the edges of the portrait hung on the wall. It was a delicate piece of artwork, designed by the best artist in Moseroth. It was painted in gold, and the frame were made of silver metals. Sixteen years have passed since the portrait was painted, but the stroke of the artistic brush, were always anew to him, especially in mornings like this. He was not brooding over the events of the past just that, something about the portrait was hard to get used to.

“How I miss you my dear,” The king heaved. The words had formed even before he could think of them.

It was hard to get used to. Sixteen years, yet everything was so fresh in his memory. They were like the nectar of a flower, good today and gone tomorrow. If he had known he would have given the witch what she had asked, he would have given the Ashkelon half of his throne and Kingdom. None of this would have happened. His wife would not have been a memory and his daughter would have been by his side, ruling the Kingdom alongside him. But now, all was lost. He had dined with the devil himself. He had made a dangerous deal with demons. All because of his ego, pride and quest for power and wealth. Looking at his wealth, he sometimes wished he could say the prestige gave him solace. He wished he could testify the happiness that came with the accolades and the plaques on the wall.

King Negev wiped his eyes. The wound should have healed by now. Letting go was hard, and thinking about them was much harder. Sixteen years. His beautiful daughter had been asleep for sixteen solid years. Time flies, of course, but what the King could not fathom was the hole in his heart. He had thought he would heal with time. But every morning, it seems as if the pains were being ripped open. His conscience were his constant reminder and the guilt were the torment he feared the most. If only he had listened to the witch and had done as she had asked.

The king stepped away and rubbed the bridge of his nose. His father had warned him countless times, how pointless thinking about the past was, but he wouldn’t stop. Not now, not when his Kingdom was hanging on a string and waiting to be plucked by the enemy.

He picks his crown from his bed. Glancing one more time at the portrait, he walked out of the room, hoping to face the day’s work without the hazy thoughts of his family.

The hallway was empty as usual, or so he thought, for he didn’t give any mind to the guards, the palace maids and the servants that greeted him. His appetite for pleasantries had waxed to nothing. If he had his way, he would find a cool village by the side a lake and spend the rest of his wretched life there. He would have abdicated the throne to someone with a sounder wit. Someone like Ferdinand would do.

“Your majesty, a very good morning to you, sire.”

“Lucas.” King Negev nodded to the man that had fall in step with him.

“I bear good news” Ferdinand smiled and stroked his well-shaved mustache with the edge of the scroll. His hazel bright eyes were in no contrast with the shade of brown by the side of his dark hair. Even though he looked younger than the King, his deep voice gave him a manly old look.

“Okay,” the King nodded to the man to continue.

They were just rounding the vestibule—leading away from the King’s garden—when Lucas began to speak. His words resonated in the King’s ears but they remained adamant to Negev’s tympani. The name, Ferdinand sounded sour in the King’s ears. Even though Ferdinand was his brother and would love to take the state under King Negev’s absence, Negev didn’t like him much. Ferdinand was loved by the people, and his good looks bought him passageway into important places. It was jealousy at least, but Negev does not care. He would rule his Kingdom alone. Everywhere, from Moseroth to the outskirt of Migdrol was his own and possession. He would rule the land with his might and the strength of his majesty. Assigning his elder brother to rule the latter part of the Kingdom, had brought peace, at least. Negev would not steer up another conspiracy, not while Ferdinand still eyes the through with hunger.

“…and will bring good things on the fifth day of the next month,” Lucas finished.

“Okay,” Negev mumbled and forced a smiled towards the messanger’s direction.

“You didn’t hear any words I say, did you?”

The King sighed and stopped in his wake. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath as the fragrance from the flowers in the King’s garden swerved into the hallway. This was the reason why the King loved this place. The memories, it held so many memories. When his wife was still alive, they would come here and spend their evenings in the arms of each other. They would discuss about the weather and make crazy plans, just for the fun of it. But that was a long time ago, sixteen years.

“Ah, I see,” Lucas nodded, “You’ve not gotten used to this, have you?”

“Tell me, Lucas,” The king turned towards the messenger’s direction. He caught the smile on the hazel eyes. They were beautiful and almost look like one of those smiles from the people of Alenthi. His wife was Alenthi. She was the most stunning creature he would ever meet.

“Do you think I am proud?”

“Of course not, your majesty.” The messenger said, but the smile in his eyes had dropped and the struggle of his shoulders as he shifted his weight to the other footings, was the evidence the King was looking for.

“I thought you would be honest,” The King said and continued down the hallway.

“By the heavens,” Lucas heaved and ran after the King, “What’s wrong, you majesty. It seems you woke up at the wrong side,”

“You have no idea.” Negev said and continued as the man fell in step with him. “Seems the birds and the fragrance from the garden are the only honest creatures in my court.”

“But…you highness,” Lucas’s voice crackled.

“The truth, Lucas.” King Negev stopped again and turned sharply to the messenger. Confusion was written in the man’s eyes, but there was something else. Honesty? Yes. The man had been honest all the days when the King was still just a normal prince. But his attitude had changed as soon as Negev had ascended the throne. He had joined the party of sycophants who would stop at nothing but to bow the trumpet of praise until one falls into a ditch. That have been their attitude. Every man in the court was nothing but a wolf in sheep clothing. They have sent his father to an early grave, and if he was not careful, he might meet the same fate.

“Our youthful days are over,” Lucas sniffed and rubbed his nose as if the words he had uttered were itching him. “You are a King now. The King of Moseroth”

“So I should die with the title, while the people I choose in my court are nothing but hypocrites?”

“You want the truth, dear King.” Lucas looked away.

Negev could not understand how hard it was. The sadness or confusion, it was as if Lucas was distant from him. His character had changed since the last twenty-six years he ascended the throne. It had not been obvious, or maybe the happiness of having a lovely family had prevented Negev from seeing the handwritten on the wall. But now, everything was crystal.

“Yes, Lucas. If anyone should tell me the truth, that should be you. It has always been you, until I ascended the throne of Moseroth.”

“But what do you want me to say!” Lucas shouted.

Some of the servants in the garden and those sweeping the vestibule, lifted their heads from their work towards their direction. The surprise that suddenly held them was evidence of the king’s ego and charisma. Nobody lifts their voice on the King of Moseroth, not even a lowlife messenger.

The King only walked some distance before turning back to the hazel eyes of Lucas. The fire in them were beginning to burn and at the edge, the King could see a tincture of darkness, hovering and waiting for the right time to strike.

“I thought you were my friend,”

“We are more than friends, Negev.” Lucas’s deep voice resounded, “We are brothers. At least, before you became so great in your wealth and ego.”

“So I am a proud king?” Negev nodded, not surprised at all. Plus, Lucas had dropped the title. He had addressed him as, Negev, for the first time since he ascended the throne.

“Pride is the glory of a King. So yes, you are not just proud but arrogant and selfish. You only think of yourself and not others.”