Below the Throne

Flinching shadows obscured ancient tapestries of forgotten glories. The King sagged in his throne like melting wax. His captain was a statue at his side in polished armor, unmarred by battles never fought for land already lost. Silence gripped them like the icy air of the empty chamber, broken suddenly by slamming doors. A ragged and breathless figure stumbled in. "Majesty, the outer gates have been breached. The enemy is flooding the streets."

"Impossible!" The King shouted, "Our walls would not fall so quickly." His quivering voice echoed off the walls. "What flag do they fly?"

The messenger knelt, eyes on the floor, "It appears that the enemy is... not foreign, Majesty. They are your own soldiers. They ignore the citizens and their homes." He hesitated, "In moments, they will be upon us."

"I've been betrayed." The King rose with a white-knuckle grip on his throne. "Are there none left loyal to me?" He turned to his brother, the captain. "The oath of the King's Guard, does it hold?"

The captain met his brother's eye but could not hold it. "My men swore an oath to their people." Not a King who hides behind walls. "They will uphold it."

"Then go!" The King shouted to the messenger, "Tell the King's Guard to raise the drawbridge and secure the gate. Every entrance to the castle must be barricaded." The messenger turned to the captain, who nodded, then ran off.

"We must meet them," said the captain, "We can end this without bloodshed."

"No!" The King put a soft hand on his brother's shoulder and whispered, "No. They would strike me down." He searched for his brother's eyes but found only shadow. "Not even you could protect me from this mob."

The captain shrugged the King's hand away. "I will stand beside my men and see justice meted out!"

"You will obey!" The King pushed the red carpet from the foot of the throne, revealing a hidden door. "I will secure myself here with the loyal guards. You must route the traitors from behind in a surprise assault."

"You would have me strike down our own people?"

The King's bushy eyebrows and greying beard seemed to droop low as his eyes searched the ground for nothing in particular, "Is it not justice to slay traitors?"

Can you not meet my eyes as you say such things? "But brother..." Is this truly your wish?

"Be quick!"

"I refuse!" The captain's voice was thunder in the throne room, "Come with me to the gates, and face your enemies." He searched for words he could not find. "Men do not betray their King without reason. They—"

"Madness! What reason could justify treason?" The King grabbed his wine. It splashed onto his robe as he filled his chalice, adding to the stains.

The captain went to leave, but stopped short, turning back to his brother. "You could stand before them. Hear them out. Show them that you will not fold under threats of violence, that you are strong."

"Maybe I can win their hearts back. Explain my choices." Courage flickered in his eyes. "I sacrificed the land to save them from war. Our kingdom—My kingdom, traded for the price of their lives. Did I profit? Yes, but that was not my intent. Perhaps they could see…" The courage faded. "No. Without their allegiance, I can only lose my life." The King brushed by his brother, and with his back turned said mournfully, "If they want death, let them have it!"

Is there nothing of a true King within you?

The King looked back at his brother, then turned back to his wine. The captain climbed into the pit and shut the hatch. The sound of wood scraping stone followed him. The hatch groaned under the weight of the throne.

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Darkness swallowed me, hollow and formless. I lit a torch, but the chill air did not recede. Instead, I felt only cold resignation.

We were children, training in the courtyard. He left himself open. My elbow split his lip. His blood hit my face. He fell, and my sword was instantly at his neck. Father's dark look robbed me of the thrill I felt as he yielded.

I clenched my fists and ran faster. I was dragged not by my armor, but by the weight of my resolve. The decision I must make was more difficult than I'd imagined.

At father's funeral, he wept like a child, though we were men. I imagined him in a coffin next to father.

The tunnel led to another hidden door on the outer walls. I had a unit posted there. Their expressions hinted of regret, but their loyalty never wavered.

My first officer stepped forward and saluted. "Ready to serve, captain."

I stepped past him. The fields of our Kingdom, what remained of it, stretched before me. We could turn away from this. Our losses could not be recovered, but… There was hope for a better future elsewhere, was there not? In another land, we could build new lives, raise families, live in peace without blood on our hands… my brother's blood…

Picturing his death brought that same childhood thrill. Standing over him as he breathed his last. It was where I belonged.

My men were watching me. Some looked at the tunnel hesitantly. If I walked away, they would follow. But they wanted this too. "Let's end this."

At the hidden hatch, my men passed me an axe, and I began to chop. The rotten wood crumbled, falling like dirt on a grave. Each swing buried my lingering doubts. As I busted through, the wood groaned. The throne, his barricade, toppled.

"Brother!" The King slurred. His mouth was stained by wine. "Why have you returned?"

"To protect my kingdom," I said. My heart pounded as if desperate to escape.

"Your kingdom?" Shadows hid his face. "You think I'm a coward." He laughed bitterly. "I am the only one willing to sacrifice what I've lost!"

Should I thank you? Those stains on your robes should be your blood. I would dance on your grave like you've danced with your maidens.

He saw my contempt. "I know you've resented me. You haven't hidden your thoughts as well as you may believe." His eyes met mine briefly but did not linger. "You've always looked down on me. On me, your King!"

I said nothing, letting the silence fester. He laughed again, turning his back to me.

I drew my sword. And for a heartbeat, I almost walked away. I loved this man once for he'd always been with me, even when I wished him gone. He was my only remaining family. Pushing me until I had no choice.

He laughed at his coronation, encouraging me to drink and dance. He was so happy to rise to power. All I saw was the shadow of our father.

The weight of steel in my hand… I stepped forward.

He looked at me over his shoulder, weary and lost. "When did it all fall apart?"

When you took the throne.

"Long ago, I suppose. I should have let them die fighting for their land. They could not betray me from the grave." He drank as if it were the elixir of life. "But you are here." He turned to me and his eyes caught my sword. Condemnation laced his face. "Answer me true, brother. Have they betrayed you as well?"

"You betrayed them," I whispered.

"Will you prove to father's grave that he loved the wrong son?"

I wanted to tear his chalice from his hands and push him to the ground the way I had when we were children! To see that fear return without father to step in. He was the betrayer, not I! I moved toward him, and he stepped back. I bared my clenched teeth and drove my blade into his chest.

He opened his mouth like he would speak, but no words came, so I said, "This is what you deserve." His eyes bore into mine. I felt a stab in my gut. I looked down for his blade—nothing. I needed it to end! I plunged my dagger into his neck and let him go.

I knelt above him. He searched my eyes, questioning—wanting forgiveness. His final breath was my answer.