to be a god, part 3

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King Regglind, resplendent in purple and silver silks, but with a simple gold crown on his head and well-worn scabbard at his side, strode into her thrown room.  His steps were confident.  His head was high.  His eyes were a piercing blue.

The herald had to nearly shout to be heard over the King’s ringing bootfalls, “King Regglind, your majesty.”

She studied his approach, still trying to decode what his plan was, why he had decided to come in person and request this audience with her.  As he came to a halt a few paces away she said, “Welcome, King Regglind.  What can I do for you on this fine day?”

Before answering he studied his surroundings, taking in the various courtesans and advisors, generals and other members of court scattered about the large throne room.  Then he let his left hand rest on the hilt of his sword while sweeping the room with his right.  “I was surprised they let me in to see you with my sword.  I see you are well protected, now, though.”

The sarcasm in his voice was not lost on her but she chose to ignore it.  Let him think she wasn’t well protected.  Let him think she needed the people around her.

“I will admit,” she said a moment later, “ that I was surprised by your visit.”

“Yes, well,” he half grunted, half growled, “I never send someone to do a job like this.  It’s unpleasant.  It could be messy.  And it’s got to be done right.”

“And what job is that?” She arched her eyebrows as she asked, glad they weren’t wasiting time on pleasantries and getting straight to the reason for his visit.

“If you attempt to invade my kingdom again, you will lose everything.”

She nearly laughed.  This threat couldn’t possibly be all he had come for.  He had to have more.

“King Regglind, I do believe you are mistaken.  When I next breach your borders I will conquer your kingdom and it will be you who loses everything.”

He attempted to draw his sword but scowled and swore as he found his hand unable to left the blade form the scabbard.  It was a simple enough charm she had placed upon the throne room years before.  No weapons could be unsheathed in the room. 

“In fact, she continued, I’m fairly certain you are about to lose everything right now.  You were a fool to come here.”

“You wouldn’t dare attack me like this,” he spat.  “It breaks all the rules of honor.”

“There are not rules between mortals and immortals,” she replied calmly.  “For what I’m after, there is no room for honor.”  Then turning to her advisor she said, “And yet another advantage of killing all our advisories, there is no one left alive to take back the information that I’m a magic user.”

“Very wise, “Ma’am,” her advisor returned.

Pointing her right hand at King she spoke the words to her second favorite spell.  Lightning raced from her finger tips and slashed into the King.  His body went flying backwards in a tumbling heap of limbs and clothes. His crown skittered across the floor to come to a stop near the entrance.

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