The shaking and muscle spasms ceased as Sarfuline's body calmed, the exception being the hand that Grethron held, this clamped down hard, crushing the old man's fingers painfully.
Grethron shouted in pain as Saruline sat abruptly upright, pulling the old man towards him. Dumar leaped forward, wrapping his strong hands around the prince's wrist and digging the tips into the carpal bones in an attempt to get him to let go.
Grethron fell backwards as the cylinder-controlled Saruline loosed his grip and sprang lithely to his feet, turning on Dumar before realising the queen stood just behind him.
Drawing a sword strapped to his side, Saruline threw himself forward in a desperate attempt to kill the queen. The tube that controlled the prince's body, however, had underestimated Dumar's strength and speed.
The big man shoved against Sarfuline's body as hard as he could, flinging him away from the queen towards another, younger woman who had accompanied her.
The similarities between the younger woman and the queen told Dumar she had to be her daughter, although her manner of dress indicated more of a personal bodyguard than a princess.
She sported an outfit of leather trousers and waistcoat with a simple, white blouse beneath. Her hair, the exact shade of her mother's, had been cropped almost boyishly short to hang just below her ears.
Although this younger version of the queen had similar features, the blankness of her expression did not seem to be maintained by sheer will. Rather, her face seemed unaffected by her emotional state.
This was borne out a second later as the body of her brother attacked her. The princess had apparently seen what was about to happen and drawn twin short swords of her own, defending herself and her mother.
"Simply die!" Saruline snarled at his sister.
She made no reply, continuing to defend against the blisteringly fast attacks with no chance of countering. Dumar knew she needed help but could not do anything with the pistol for fear of hitting her or the queen.
The big man approached the prince from behind in an attempt to shove him away again or restrain him in some way.
Dumar curled his fingers and swung with as much power as he could muster, slamming the blade of his hand into the side of Saruline's neck.
Although the cylindrical creature that had taken control of the prince brought extremes of strength, speed and stamina, it could do nothing against a concentrated blow from Dumar's powerful body and the prince was thrown sideways, turning after he managed to regain his footing.
A spike of shock hammered through Dumar as he realised his blow had done something to the prince.
Saruline had regained consciousness without having control over the actions of his own body and the prince screamed in fright, pain and rage as he realised what had happened.
His body turned once again to attack his sister who stood in front of his mother. Commander Fultard raced to put himself between the queen and prince while a group of Royal Guards tried to surround the screaming prince Saruline.
"Mother!" The prince yelled in a high pitched voice. "Order them to kill me!" Saruline's body made a thrusting move towards his sister's throat and time finally slowed a little for Dumar.
Still unwilling and unable to use his pistol, he attempted to grab Sarfuline's sword arm as he screamed.
"Mother...Please...I cannot control it!"
He managed to grab the prince's arm, fouling the attack upon his sister.
Sarfuline's body span in an attempt to free its sword and due to his angle of attack, Dumar lost his hold.
An unwelcome memory ripped into Dumar's mind as the prince screamed his pleas to be killed.
Transported back to the death of his friend, Smitty, indecision made Dumar pause, his vow to himself that he would not kill tugged against his mind at the same time as the despairing cries of the prince almost caused him to draw the pistol holstered at his side and end the man's pain.
His indecision lasted only a fraction of a second before the situation was taken from his hands.
The princess and Commander Fultard seemed to see the same opening.
Dumar had caused Saruline to spin in order to break the big man's hold and this provided an opportunity to attack the prince.
Fultard landed his blow first, slamming his sword into the prince's back with such force the blade burst from his chest.
The younger version of the queen aimed her own, right hand blade at the same spot yet from the front.
Her thrust took Saruline just a few inches below and to the right of Fultard's own.
Prince Saruline's body halted, his sword slipped from his fingers and he fell to his knees with both blades still impaling him.
Fultard followed the prince down, releasing the hilt of his sword and supporting him with an arm wrapped around his shoulders.
"Forgive me, my prince," Fultard pleaded with tears standing in his eyes.
Saruline tried to raise his hand to the older man's face but was stopped by the blades that still perforated his flesh.
In an almost inaudible whisper the prince spoke.
"It is I who need to beg your forgiveness, sir. You have performed your duties with the same honour and virtue you always have," Saruline drew in a painful, shallow breath before asking. "Where is mother?" All eyes turned to the queen.
Dumar watched the pale faced queen step demurely towards her dying son with her head held high.
"I am here," she stated in an almost peaceful voice.
Saruline's eyes moved to find her face.
"I suppose an apology would not be welcome, mother?"
The queen allowed her eyes to connect with her son. Both he and Dumar could plainly see the pain and sorrow in her eyes as she spoke,
"You have made some poor choices, my son," she said in a controlled voice. "Yet you have been misled and badly used also.
"This said, I cannot pretend every action you have performed can be forgiven. You have committed treason and for that I am not able to forgive you," her voice softened and tears moistened her eyes.
"However, you are still my son and I grieve for the past we have lost and the future we will never have," she knelt beside Fultard who turned away in a vain attempt to give them some privacy. In a hoarse whisper the queen added, "I have always loved you, Sar. My little boy!"
Dumar quietly withdrew towards Grethron who sat cradling his injured hand with an expression of direst despair across his face. Oblivious to Dumar's presence the old man had his gaze fixed upon the queen and her dying son and was whispering something repeatedly to himself.
"I will kill him for this. I will kill him for this. I will kill…"
The big man shook him hard.
"Greth!" Dumar whispered sharply to the old man.
Grethron turned stiffly towards Dumar and his blank eyes became focussed once more.
"Dumar?" He said in a distressed voice, "Help me to my feet."
Dumar complied and gently hauled the old man up. The necromancer made his way over to where the queen, Saruline and Fultard were, trailing the staff he carried along the floor.
"Does it hurt, son?" The queen was asking as he approached.
"I feel nothing, mother. It is quite dark in here, I cannot see your face."
Fresh tears damped the queen's cheeks.
"Mother, I am so..." Sarfuline's final words trailed off as his last breath left his body.
Fultard laid the prince gently down after a few seconds but the body stayed at a strange angle due to the weapons still jutting from it.
The commander offered his arm to the queen who took it and rose gracefully.
"Will you see to him, Fultard?" She asked rather than commanded. "Personally."
"Of course, majesty," Fultard replied in a quiet voice. "Some of the guards will escort you to your apartments."
The queen nodded and added a simple command.
"Have them bring the necromancer," she said in a dark voice.
One of the Royal Guards appeared at the commander's side to receive his whispered orders.