Betrayal
Zankar's face was
like a mask of death. He strode through the streets of the city, his
long black robes billowing around him in the wind of his passing, and
those who saw him were afraid. Most looked away, unwilling to meet
his empty eyes, but some were caught in his dark gaze and stared
after him, helpless to look elsewhere until he was out of sight. He
had always been a strange individual, the King's Wizard, but since
his wife had taken ill, he had become almost a hermit, spending hours
a day in the Library searching for a curative for her malady.
Today, however,
his destination was not the Library, but the Palace. The guards at
the gates nodded to him as he passed, hardly noticing that he did not
acknowledge them, that he stared straight ahead as if he saw nothing
around him. They were used to the Wizard visiting the King.
The guards at the
doors to the Council Chambers, however, did try to stop him. King
Derrik had asked that no one interrupt the meeting with the Council
today, so they stepped forward and were about to inform Zankar of
this when the Wizard lifted his hand and the doors to the Chamber
were thrown open. The guards, with only a second of hesitation,
crossed their halberds, blocking the entrance. Another gesture from
the Wizard, and they were flung apart and away from the door to crash
against the walls on either side of the corridor. Not pausing to see
them fall, Zankar entered the Chamber.
Derrik had risen
from his chair when the doors opened. Now, seeing his friend and
advisor enter so precipitously, he was momentarily speechless. In
that moment, the Wizard passed through the doors and approached the
table around which the King and his Councillors were seated. Coming
to a halt, Zankar raised his right hand, palm up, before himself,
almost as if he were offering or asking for something. The King
opened his mouth to speak, to greet his Wizard and ask why he had
burst into the meeting unannounced and in so ill-mannerly a fashion,
but before Derrik could utter a word, Zankar closed his hand into a
fist, and the King found himself unable to speak.
King Derrik gasped
and clutched at his left arm with his right hand as he fell heavily
back into his chair. He groaned as from a great pain. The Councillors
watched in horror as their King's face turned grey, his whole body
suddenly drenched with sweat. Those closest to him rushed toward
Derrik, and those closer to the door turned on Zankar, reaching for
the ceremonial daggers they wore in their belts. The Wizard lifted
his left hand, palm forward, and all in the room but the King and
Wizard were stopped instantly, in mid step, the expressions of shock,
anger, outrage, and confusion frozen on their faces.
The guards from
outside the door had now picked themselves up and returned to the
Chamber door. Seeing that the Wizard was attacking the King and
Councillors, they lowered their halberds and charged him. Zankar
flicked the fingers of his left hand toward them without turning
around. At once, they were as unable to move as were the Councillors.
All watched in horror as the King's breathing became more and more
laboured. Derrik's eyes never left Zankar's, and his lips moved as he
tried to speak. Finally, he managed to whisper, “Why?” The Wizard
did not respond, his gaze pitiless as he watched his King struggle to
breathe. After what seemed an age to those watching helplessly,
Derrik's gasps slowed, then stopped, and the King slumped in his
chair, his unseeing eyes staring blankly at the Wizard who had been
his friend.
Zankar turned and
left the room. As soon as he was out of sight, those held motionless
were free. As the Councillors rushed to check on the King, the guards
raced after his killer. But no one ever saw the Wizard Zankar again.
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