Coup D’état

Coup

A chill ran up my spine. It was dark in there, too dark for my companion or me. But it was inevitable.

The door’s mass closed itself with a soft thud. The breeze around me stopped and only then did I realize how damp and stale it was, as if no human had been within that chamber for centuries. And this was, for all intents and reasons, true.

“Revel, stand still,” I whispered intensely to Revel, the young, handsome yet fidgety man who stood beside me.

He froze, I am certainly the one with the higher rank, but Revel seemed to have an aura about him that made all the difference; when in more casual conditions, a passerby would address him before myself. I hated him for that, the goody goody everyone loved, no one ever cared for me; my mother left my father when I was born, my father was executed my the King himself several years later, even my dogs ran away, no matter how many I got.

“I can hear him, that way,” Revel announced softly. Surprise was gone, if he was heard, then we were as well.

I said, “Stay, he will wait for us to go to him.” I could feel it and I knew it was true. My premonitions had never failed me, I had never once been wrong about them before.

“There’s more guards,” they came running soon after.

Like the entire pathetic whimsy army we had fought, and the rest of the radicals fought. They were hardly a challenge, we killed them both before the guards realized where we were; darkness was on our side, for once. Revel tripped over a decapitated head, the idiot.

“I cannot see anything in here it’s so dark.”

“God damn it! Get up! We must go now,” I could already see his absurd confusion in my mind.

I aggressively grabbed Revel and dragged him, behind me, down the narrow hallway. We might be blinded by the dark but I would not let that frighten me. I had waited for this moment too long for that.

At a point, our footstep’s echo changed resonance to the left, a door opening. I reached out to feel for the wall, it was not there. I had no reasonable explanation as to what guided me, but I just knew where to go.

It was not my charge, my fate, my destiny to do any of this. That all belonged to the skinny rat I still had to guide like a four year old girl through a crowded park. I was just his… ‘helper’ in all of this, the merry little sidekick gaily ready to follow him to the end of the world and back. The idea still repulsed me.

“Get up, we’re getting close!”

He would have looked hurt as he straightened up again. Why had I been paired with him? He was the most opposite of me; we had nothing in common. Did the gods, if any exist, really think that we were complimentary? I might sooner kill him than help him. Maybe not that extreme; I hated him, but not enough to kill him.

A dim glow appeared ahead of us, from the cracks of a door, faintly illuminating everything around me. I saw his face again; yeah maybe I could snap and go that far. I had to focus; I get distracted easily, it frustrated me. I had a mission to accomplish and I would not let my mind foil me. That b*****d King was finally stripped of his army, he was finally on his own and I…we could remove him.

“He wishes to talk first, we will not be fighting,” I said.  Revel sheathed his sword again, more than ever I hoped this premonition would hold.

The door before us slowly creaked open. We quickly shuffled in as it closed again. The light inside was dimmed; I had to squint to make out the silhouette of the chair in the middle. The figure rose, as he stood a swath of candles lit themselves.

He was tall and intimidating. The darkness radiating from him made me cringe at his feet; he just glared down on us with a smirk that made him only look mildly amused. We were nothing to him, he was powerful, near omnipotent, immortal and the king everyone hated. He was our target, my only purpose in life, ever since I agreed to lead this revolt so many years ago.

Hm, hm, hm, hm, the King laughed. “You think to overthrow me will fix the politics of this world? I may go out, but it won’t stop, it cannot you see. My reign is at its end, I am tired and ready to pass on the mantle. Seven centuries is quite a long time…”

“You can be defeated, I cannot let you live!” Revel announced triumphantly.

The King found this humorous, “My, well, do you honestly travel with this kid? He is cocky and boastful, no good for running a kingdom, you on the other hand, I feel potential in you. Rise and take your place at my side, young Simeon.” He had addressed me but Revel reacted.

“You will not prevail!” Again with the stupid heroic comments. He began a lunge, sword drawn, ready to strike. He was going to claim his prize, his fate, his destiny. But the glory was mine, he had done nothing, I could not let him finish this. In the same instant, I realized what I must do; it was dark, it was a tragic accident but a valiant sacrifice.

The mushy squish sound sent a shiver up and down my spine; Revel lay skewered on my own sword. It was quick, he had not seen it coming, I had grabbed his shoulder and spun him into the tip of my sword as I knocked him onto the ground.

“Ha, Very good,” the King chuckled.

Revel still convulsed on the ground at my feet. His grotesque, maimed body was already drenched in his blood. I grabbed the hilt of my blade and removed it from his chest, the moment it left his body, a fountain spurt from the left over hole.

The King, still mildly amused as if this were a common event to him, said, “He couldn’t have killed me anyway, his soul was too clean for that. You want to see a trick?” He lifted his left wrist stump to show me. I had not realized before that Revel had managed to slice his hand off.

“I don’t have the time for this! Your power, it can be used for better than this! Today, King Cromwell falls; tomorrow a new Democracy shall rise.” I shoved my sword into his chest, where his heart should be.

He laughs his dark cackle, not the sound I had expected. “Yes, I can feel the hatred in you, your deed makes you eligible.  Only in the fresh stained blood of treachery can the calling be transferred. It seems my reign is over, but do you really think you can just remove the Monarchy? I may fall today, but the legacy will live on!” King Cromwell’s last words were direct and true, my premonitions confirmed such.

His last breaths was neither pained nor forced, as if my stab didn’t affect him.
“His blood is on your blade, and your conscience-” his voice faltered for the first time,
“the conditions are met,” he jerks suddenly, then is still again.
“the mantle is passed, I may rest at last,” he sighed as his eyes closed.

No! He was not supposed to die peacefully. This was wrong, all wrong. Nothing was as it should be. Then I felt the warm sensation, somewhere in the pit of my abdomen, at first. It spread through my veins quickly, like venom, no not venom, like a drug. It was an all-time high, an ecstasy greater even than intimacy.

I felt lighter now; my heavy leather, sword and shield were weightless. The darkness faded and I could see perfectly in the room, no better than perfect, I could make out individual grains on the wall opposite me.

I heard hurried footsteps and the rapid pounding of a heart. Who was it? I crouched to the floor and looked out ready for what came next.

“Simeon! Simeon! Their forces are fallen. We’ve complete control over- What the hell happened, Simeon!” The young messenger boy I vaguely recognized gasped.

“Yes, continue the march, Jericho will be the first to fall.”

“You haven’t the authority-” I was already beside him, I held him above me by his neck. “King Simeon is not refuted.” I lightly flexed my fingers and his neck broke between them. He fell limp to the floor.

King Simeon, that had a chilling ring to it.

“Excellent,” was all I said as I strode out the door, out to embrace the new destiny that was not mine to take.

Author's Note

This is the prologue to a story I thought about starting, but I never got past this.

Reviews

[David W Moore III]

I like it. it would be interesting if it continued and Simeon fought from within as a conflicted evil doer.

[Conrad]

nope

[Demauscian]

Conrad, you've read this before, remember?

Part of that writing competition we did last year...

[Conrad]

that was fun, an almost cliched incident however the simple humanity of it gave it a wonderful edge almost like catch-22. The tone felt a little conflicted though.