"You've been had," Truls said, moving towards the pair. "I know the dirty little secret you and my wife have together," he said with his voice low. "My lord," Bashaa began. "Don't you dare call me lord, you oozing prick sore," Truls yelled in the young man's face.
"This is a conversation where, apparently, status does not matter. You come in here, drink my wine, gorge yourself on my food, and have the nerve to plough my wife? You are not a prince. You are not a man. You are nothing but a worthless cur, and I would not be surprised if you had a shriveled worm for a prick. You have defiled my wife, shamed my kingdom, and both of these under my very nose. I would have you dragged through the streets by your balls for all that you've done, and I will ensure that you make it to the Underworld myself," he bawled in rage.
Truls reached back under his tunic to draw a large dagger, and thrust it at lightning speed into Bashaa's neck, spewing blood onto his wrist and forearm. Bashir screamed in terror as his bleeding son fell to the ground. Truls began to step over his writhing legs, and kneeled down on top of his chest. His eyes glared with hatred, and his knuckles were white due to his grip on the dagger. He began to sever the dying man's head off, while Bashir turned and ran out of the door as quickly as he could, calling his men out to flee the castle. Truls separated head from body, and danced in the man's blood for a short while, holding the head by the hair.
Fulco re-entered the hall after hearing the scream, and fainted at the sight of Truls dancing in blood, holding the head in one hand, with the dagger in the other. Truls looked about him and noticed his servant on the ground. He cared nothing for him since he had just slain his newest enemy. His guards hadn't moved an inch, after all, there was nothing they could have done to stop it from happening. He chuckled to himself, and it increased to a fit of maniacal laughter.
Leona rushed down the stairs to see what the scream was about, and found her husband in the pool of blood, and screamed. Truls turned to look at her, his face was spattered with blood, and the rest of him was now covered in it. She held back bile as best as she could, and bolted back up the flight of stairs she had just come down. She ran through the hallways and finally found what she thought to be a sanctuary in the confines of her room. She entered it, and slammed the door behind her, bolting it in fear of her husband.
By the graces, that was Bashaa's head in his hand, she thought, nearly vomiting once more. Shit, that means he knows about what happened, and I'll probably be next by the looks of things.
Bile had returned to greet her mouth once more. The fear of her husband coming to kill her had almost overwhelmed her, so she went to the corner of her room, and burst into tears.
Meanwhile, the king was dismembering the man he had just killed in the main hall. Thorsen and Gorm - the captain of the guard who dressed similarly to Thorsen - walked in, shocked at the scene. "Your majesty," Gorm began in a low voice. "Shut up and listen to me, Gorm," Truls growled. "Gather the men, and chase down Bashaa and his party if they follow him. Otherwise, kill them here," he said.
Thorsen and Gorm looked down upon the parts of the man, and decided it would be best not to question the king's decision. "It will be done, your majesty," Gorm said, disgust clearly showing on his face. The guardsmen left, and Truls grinned as he severed the second leg from the torso, placing it into the pile of body parts he had now created.
He bundled up the pieces into the dead man's robe, and dragged the chunks outside. He ordered the guards to give him their spears and they did so without question, save for the ones about what was left of the Harutian prince. When he arrived at the front gate of the main palace, he unraveled the pieces, planted the spears in the ground, and skewered the body parts. The head faced outward with its lifeless, gaping expression portraying a silent scream. A few of the guards who had been posted just outside that gate had their breakfast coming out of the wrong hole in a flash.
Truls finished what he believed to be his masterpiece, and spat on the lifeless head. He began to make his way back towards the main palace, where he found Gorm riding out with his war party to hunt down Bashaa and, possibly, his men. He grinned, and continued on his way towards Leona's quarters. He made his way up the stairs with a spattering sound due to the blood-soaked shoes he was still wearing, and began calling out his wife's name like one would if they were calling their pet.
"Leona! I know you're in there, Leona. Don't hide from me, my sweet. I'm not going to hurt you, I simply want to speak to you," his massive voice called out in an eerie tone - the likes he had never emitted before.
She was still in the corner of her room, her eyes swollen from weeping when she heard her name being called. A chill went down her spine, and she stood up. The sound of her husband calling her drew closer to her door, and she began to desperately look for something to defend herself with. There was nothing she could see that she would reach before he came in. She heard the click-flack of the bolt being undone by the key he possessed, and her stomach felt like it was turning inside out.
"Ah, there you are, my dove," he said in a disturbing tone. She could barely breathe at the sight of him. "You murdered him!" she exclaimed. "Yes, I did. Ridding the world of yet another vermin," he replied. "How could you do this after saying what you said at the feast?" she asked.
He paused for a moment, appearing to be deep in thought. "Because I wanted to," he replied. "You see, my dove, a man does not defile another man's wife without paying for it one day or another," he began. "He defiled you, the rumor spread like wildfire, and now the whole kingdom thinks that I'm a fool, and that you are a worthless whore!" he shouted the last five words. Leona was shocked, and her eyes watered as her disgust for the man she had once married grew exponentially. "Prove me wrong," he said, noticing her countenance. "Tell me that you didn't let him have his way with you, and that I made one of the largest mistakes of my life," he said.
Leona paused. She knew that he might kill her if she told him the truth, but she stood her ground. "I won't prove you wrong," she said. "What?" he asked, darkening his tone. "I won't prove you wrong, because it wasn't he who had his way with me. In fact, it was the other way around," she said. "He tried to charm me with his worthless wit, but deep down all I wanted was a good fuck because you can't even keep it up. Not even when you force yourself on me as you have so many times in the past, you prickless pig," she said.
"You bitch!" he said, smacking her to the ground with a back-hand strike across her face. "I have given you everything in my kingdom, everything you have ever wanted, and this is how you repay me? By shoving some wart-laden prick up your snatch? I will see you pay for what you've done as well," he said with fiery eyes, walking towards her. She was quickly on her feet, and attempted to circle around him without paying too much attention to her surroundings.
She rammed into her easel, and had to lean on it for a brief moment to regain her balance. He smacked her across the face once more. The blow forced her to turn around, and he began to lift up her dress. Tears ran down her cheeks.
"Help!" she cried out in despair. Truls covered her mouth, muffling her voice. "No one is going to save you now. Not Bashaa, nor anyone else in this fucking place. You're in my kingdom. My rules are the only thing that apply here, and currently, my only rule is that I don't have any rules. I don't have to be careful of what I do to you" he said in her ear through bared teeth.
She glanced down, and through her tears saw a thick paintbrush lying on the easel before her. She bit into Truls' finger, and he reeled with the pain. She had drawn blood. "You fucking whore!" he yelled. He stepped towards her, and she rammed a paintbrush upwardly under his jaw, piercing his brain. Blood ran down her hand and wrist as his eyes rolled into his head. Leona pulled her impromptu weapon out of his jaw, and watched his body fall to the ground, where it wriggled and writhed like a beheaded serpent.
The king was dead, and she breathed heavily.
Her body felt as though it had been lit aflame from the adrenaline flowing through it. She still held her weapon in her hand. It was covered in blood and other tissue. She could hear the bubbling sounds of her attacker's blood leaving its body and leaking out onto the floor. She wiped her forehead clean of the sweat, and cleared her eyes of the tears that still welled up in her eyes. She shook her head, and dropped the weapon. She walked over to the fresh body, and looked it over for a few moments.
I feel calmer than I ever have in my entire life, she thought as she wiped the remaining tears from her cheeks.
She had to figure out what she was supposed to do with the body. She sat on the side of her bed, staring at it for a few moments, recovering from it all.
I killed the king. He probably would have killed me, and I know people will believe me if I say he would have, she thought.
She stood up from her bedside, and grabbed hold of his beard. She tugged so hard his head almost came off, skin tearing at the base of the neck. She continued until the body began to move in the same direction she was. She dragged him down the stairs, hearing the blood smear across the steps, while his hands and feet flopped about like boned fish. She could hear a commotion of people and servants gathered in the main hall.
They must have heard about Bashir, she thought.
She continued to drag the king's body down the stairs, only to find that Bashir's body was no longer present, and that only a puddle of dried blood remained.
Everyone in the hall looked at her. She was covered in blood, dragging the king's body by the beard. She looked at the servants who had gathered around. Nobody said a word. She continued to drag the body across the floor over to the throne's steps, where she paused for a moment.
She was panting heavily, and decided she needed to sit down. She looked up at the thrones, both hers and her now deceased husband's. She walked up the steps, dragging the body behind her, laying it on top of the carpet between the thrones, and seated herself on the larger of the two. The others in the room simply stood still and watched. She placed her arms on the armrests provided by the throne itself, and looked out over the people. A few of the servants tended to Fulco, who had hit his head fairly hard when he fainted.
"The king is dead. He killed Prince Bashaa of Harut, tried to rape and kill me. He failed the latter, and now I am your ruler. If anyone objects to this, speak up now," she said. Everyone stood quietly, glancing back and forth at each other to see if any one of them would say something. "No objections? Good," she said. "Let this be a new beginning. A new age for Coltend. A new age, for the people," she called out. The people, who were still processing the information, clapped slowly at first, but picked up speed after a little while.
Cheers began to be called out, and Fulco - now awake - smiled at her from a distance.
This will be a new beginning indeed, he thought and proceeded to make his way next to the queen.
He reached the steps, and was careful not to look at the body that lay at his queen's feet. He swallowed his breakfast. "I was the king's advisor, and now I will serve you just as I have served him, my queen," he said. "I know you told him, Fulco, but I thank you for giving me a final reason to kill him," she replied. "Think nothing of it, your majesty," he said, smiling nervously.
The people continued to cheer as more came in to discover what all the commotion was about, and those who did, joined in with the crowd. Leona looked out over the amassing servants and smiled.
My turn, she thought.