The doors broke open, loudly. The banging of them hitting the adjacent walls echoed into the silence. The two guards stationed outside slumped into lifeless piles on the ground. Like useless matching rags dropped from the hands of one who no longer needed them any more. One sole man remained in the room, seated in a large chair at the head of a table, his long fingers steepled together in front of his face.
The setting sun cast its last rays through the large rectangular windows, shedding light on the person responsible for kicking in the door as the man at the table was seated in the shadows. There was silence as the two did little more than look at one another.
"It took you long enough," the seated man replied, "I was beginning to think that you had changed your mind."
"You knew it was me who was coming?" the younger man asked, head shifting in slight amusement as a malevolent grin played along the edges of his lips.
"What kind of man would I be if I had let you catch me by surprise?" the seated man replied, folding his fingers down, making his face more visible. The lines along his face and forehead became much more visible, showing that youth had fled from him long ago. The only intense part of his being left were the eyes that stared at the man in front of him.
"You're bluffing, old man," the younger scoffed, "If you knew I was coming, then you would not be sitting here, waiting for me. You would have had your guards greet me before I was within a hundred paces of you. You would not have allowed me to simply walk in here and strike up a casual conversation."
"You are correct, however what other choice have you given me.' was the cool answer that came from the older man's lips. "You have broken down my defenses, bested my best men, turned my people against me. You have single handedly set out on a vendetta to wrench power from my hands and take it for yourself. And you are mere moments away from succeeding."
"Then why are you seated so calmly? Why are you not armed and ready to fight me? Would the king resign so easily? Has old age softened you?"
The jeering did nothing to change the man's disposition. He continued to sit, unflinching. His eyes fixed on the younger man standing in front of him.
"You were like a son to me," the old man started, a hint of a grin of his own starting to form in his aged eyes, "And in this moment, I am could not be more proud. Defiant and underhanded, I could not have executed this coup any better. Your net of trickery, back stabbing, and double crossing could not have been more intricately played. I congratulate and marvel at your masterful work."
"Do not believe that your honeyed words will save you," the younger man sneered, believing this old lion to be making fun of him. Or stalling in order wriggle his way out of his demise, "I came for one purpose and I will see it through to the end."
"I imagined nothing less."
The old man finally stood from his chair and stepped away from the table. He stood in the full light of the setting sun, and put his hands at his sides.
"Come and do what it is that must be done. Remove this cursed mantle from my shoulders and take it upon yourself. Kill me and rejoice in the victory of ill gotten gains, as I did before you and did the king before me. Rejoice for as long as you are able. Because after that revery is gone, you will see everyone as your enemy from now until the moment you are standing in the same place as I."
The end was quick. There was no drawn out eloquence to the execution. It was moderately clean. There would only be one spot that would be stained with the old man's blood. He was appreciative of that. However, there was one more thing he wanted this traitor, his son, this new king to know before his tongue was stilled forever.
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