To Judge a King

"Sorry, my king." Flajore fell to one knee, saluting with head bowed. "The northern wall is breached."

"Don't hang your head, General. I'm proud of you - of all your men. You held out longer than believed possible."

I am the one who should be ashamed. It's my pride and ambition that breached the wall. Father always said I was too reckless and arrogant.

"We will hold the keep. All is not lost."

Their battering ram echoed through the hall. Each swing shook the dust from the rafters.

"Always an optimist, but we both know it won't be long."

"Then I will die defending Sharia!"

"No!" I didn't intend to shout. I collected myself. "I have a mission for you. You must swear you'll carry it out. Death is not an option. You must carry it out. Understand?"

His expression changed from resolution to confusion.

I removed my crown, "Give this to a young man in Lythos. His name is Bomgar, and he's apprenticed to a blacksmith in town. It's vital you crown him yourself. Here is my ring. But before you do, assemble the town elders and Narvvan, the wizard, to witness the event."

I could see the old warrior cringe. "Please allow me to fight by your side until the end."

I stared at the aged general who taught me everything I know about the sword and war. He's been more of a father to me than my father.

"You are respected by Sharia. If you crown a king, then Sharia will accept him. Some other person will only spark a civil war."

"But we are surrounded. How can I carry out your order?"

I called for Timblathian.

"You called," the old wizard didn't bother to mask his contempt. Years ago, he prophesied my downfall and has behaved as if I were an illegitimate king ever since. But my father taught me to keep my enemies close.

"Is the potion ready?"

"It is. Are you ready to abandon the fight?"

At least one good thing will come of our demise. There will be one less insufferable wizard in my kingdom.

"Not me. Flajore has a mission."

The old fox attempted to suppress a smile.

"The king won't be using it to escape? You know what will happen if you stay?"

"Get the potion. I don't need your barbs tonight."

The wizard left the hall. Suddenly, exhaustion overcame me. Was it the weight of my sin? Or the reality of my death?

"My King, please take the potion for yourself. Let me fight with my men."

"No. It is my final answer. You will save Sharia. Don't you see? It is the only way."

At that moment, Timblathian walked in carrying a golden goblet.

"Explain to the general what the potion does."

He glared at me, then slowly placed the goblet on a table. "Lesser wizards say it makes one disappear, but the wise know it disables everyone from seeing the one who drinks it."

"Go on. Tell him everything."

"Yes, my king." His snake-like eyes shot a look that could kill. "It's really a simple potion. Even an idiot can understand. It only takes effect for three or four hours, won't hide noise, and won't turn you into a ghost. So be aware of time, be quiet, and don't bump into anyone, and you will be fine."

"Enough! Return to the gate." Hopefully, he's dead before I get there.

The hall continued to echo with each swing of the battering ram - each thud convicting me of my crime. I wanted this war. I wanted another prize, another kingdom to conquer. Instead, I've destroyed Sharia's army. Men I've known my entire life.

"May I ask a question?" Flajore spoke more like my mentor than general. "Why are you so determined to die?"

Dust continuously rained down, reminding me there wasn't much time, but he deserved to know why.

"I've spent the lives of good men to satisfy my lust for more power. I've judged men for less and ordered their executions. Shall a king be exempt from judgment? Shall he receive a pardon for the reckless loss of life? My father taught me that a king was never wrong. Today, I learned he was wrong."

"You lead. That's what kings do."

"You're right, but I should have led us towards peace. I should have made treaties and trades and built relations with my neighbors instead of war. I'm the reason why wives are widows and children are fatherless. I must pay for my crimes."

"It's no crime to be king, to lead men in battle. Why are you speaking like this?"

"You say it's no crime. Why isn't it? Why do kings get to murder without consequences? I'd be hunted and publicly beheaded if I were a peasant who killed as many men as I have."

"But you are no peasant."

"A king should be held to the same standard. I'm not above judgment, and as a judge, I proclaim myself guilty."

"Kings are above judgment. I don't condemn you, nor would any of your men. Please use the potion. You can raise another army. You can still be the savior of Sharia."

"I've explained myself. Let that be enough. It's time for you to leave." The gate began to split. "Before you go, I want to explain why I want you to crown Bomgar. He is special. He won't be like me or my father. His mother hid her pregnancy from me. Narvvan is the only reason I know of him. I've met the boy several times without letting him know of our relationship. The town speaks highly of him. He's good and humble. Because of this, I know he will make a great king."

I don't know if I convinced him, but Flajore nodded and drank the potion. He disappeared, and I heard his footsteps fade away from the hall.

I must die, and for some reason, this didn't bother me. Instead, it filled me with peace. Today, justice will be served.

The battering ram broke through. Battle cries filled the hall. Swords clanked, and arrows whistled. I pulled my sword for the last time. My executioners await.