The land of Goran has been ruled for nearly a thousand years by the mighty Amenthis dynasty. However, a fatal fracturing has begun.
Beyond the capital, newlywed pearl diver Vinie kindles the spark of rebellion from the ashes of her life, while outca...
It was to Gideo's relief when he peeped through the hole on the far side of the passage and found the room beyond silent. The disguised door to the listening nook opened without a sound and faded back into the wall around it as soon as it was shut. Straightening with a suppressed sigh of relief, Gideo looked around the royal apartments.
They were sumptuously decorated, bringing the Hall of Thrones to mind with the long, trailing golden curtains from floor to ceiling. The carved wooden panels of the ceiling hung so far overhead that Gideo wondered why anyone would have bothered to carve them so intricately in the first place. A beautiful black statue of a woman in the corner stood surrounded by little yellow candles; a revered effigy or merely décor? It vaguely reminded Gideo of the castoff figurehead he had painted to resemble Vinie for her prison escape. He was wasting time though.
Stepping from the balls of his feet to the heels like the Stargazers had taught him, Gideo stole soundlessly into the next room. The knife up his sleeve slid down into his hand, its hilt cool and hard. Gideo could feel the sheathed blade lying against his skin, deceptively deadly for so small an object. Coated as it was with golden frogs' poison, Gideo was careful to keep the knife within its case until the time came. A single accidental prick would kill him even faster than Gorian law would at this point.
"Not a bad last resort, if you should happen to fail," his tutors had told him when they showed him how to poison the blade. "It'll definitely burn something fierce at the end, but less than if you were lashed to a stake and set alight like a torch." Gideo had said nothing to that, even if the mere thought was enough to make him want to be sick. He had no intention of suffering either fate.
This night was what he had spent the past year preparing for. Even the Stargazers had never known the identity of his target. The intensely secretive assassins' guild asked few questions and answered even fewer. If they had questioned him further, Gideo didn't know what they might have said or done. The Stargazers' loyalties appeared to lie everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Admitting to planning regicide might have gotten him murdered upon his next session with them. Or it might have garnered him more help. It wasn't a risk Gideo had been willing to take.
Slowly, carefully, Gideo approached the enormous four-poster bed. Once he got close enough to see the figure upon it, he stopped short. So many times he had envisioned this moment, but never like this.
King Mahir Amenthis lay on his back, hand-woven white sheets turned down against the warm night. His stern, piercing brown eyes were closed, softening his face and returning the king to a more open, vulnerable expression. Mahir's lips were slightly parted and his hair splayed across the pillow in a dark halo. His nightshirt was slightly hiked up, displaying a narrow strip of skin dusted with curly hair. It was the most normal, comfortable looking picture of sleep that Gideo could have imagined for a man such as the king of all Goran. None of that gave him pause though.
What did was the person next to Mahir. The young Prince Hithon was also in the bed, sleeping tucked against his father's side like a much younger child might do. A faint trail of salt down the boy's cheek suggested a long-dried tear. Mahir's arm rested limp yet close around his son's shoulders. Together the two slept peacefully, unaware of the stranger with bloody intentions standing over them.
Gideo frowned. To kill Mahir was something he'd made his peace with a long time ago. He would have preferred to do it in the Utunman manner; a public challenge on Zaneo and Vinie's behalf, followed by a knife fight down on the beach. This was the king though, and kings were apparently above even custom and honor. Still, Gideo's plans had never involved killing a father while his child slept at his side. That felt a step too far.
Still, what other choice did he have? This was the man who had watched, impassive, while Zaneo and his family were murdered by an executioner's axe. Vinie's screams still rang in his ears to this day. He would never forget nor forgive the man who could make Vinie scream like that, or spill Zaneo's blood. Some things crossed a line, and demanded the same in return.
That wasn't even touching on the conflict that might be avoided if Goran was caught without a ruler on the throne in the face of the Factionist uprising. Would Princess Ellorae be able to assume power quickly enough to recover and defend against Factionist sentiments on all sides? Perhaps, but Gideo doubted it. Mahir's death would be the chance that the south, east and north needed to break free. He had to act, and act now.
Resolved, Gideo leaned over the sleeping pair. Whispering an apology to the little prince, he took his bared knife in hand and raised it. There, right where the nightshirt parted beneath Mahir's collarbone. The black, smooth patterns of dancing seals and setting suns wrapped around his bicep swallowed the candlelight just as the blade he held reflected it.
Gideo let out a rush of breath...and stabbed.
OoOoO
'The Book of Terrus: The Wise and Powerful' is published here on Wattpad!
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You can find it either by following this link; https://www.wattpad.com/story/128505630-the-book-of-terrus-the-wise-and-powerful
or by looking under 'Stories by GreenScholar Tales'. As of May 25, 2018, it is completed. Stay tuned for Volume 3; 'A Land of Sunlight'!
Thank you so much for reading my story, the world of Terrus hopes you will continue the journey!
