The King's Assassination
The lock clicked and the door eased open, a cloaked and hooded figure slipped through into the King's chamber. It was filled with riches and fine things of which the king was fond. The king himself lay sprawled on a large bed by which a sword belt and knife were discarded. The king was in a drunken sleep, unaware of the intruder. The figure crept over to the bed. There was the cold rasp of metal as he slid the Kings knife out of the sheath that was lying on the floor beside the bed. The moonlight from the window glinted off of the naked blade. A floorboard creaked. The figure froze, eyes searching, but when he saw the shadowed figure in the corner he smiled. Then plunged the knife into the king's heart, the king jerked awake. The Kings eyes widened when he saw the assassin, who took the dying mans hand clasping it around the knife handle as the king died, hand tightening into a death grip on the hilt.
The assassin then turned to the door, he had his hand on the handle when he heard the hiss of flying metal, he stepped to the side and the thrown dagger impaled the door instead of his back. The assassin glanced at the quivering dagger. “Ah, so you were going to do it yourself then.”
The assassin left as quietly as he had come, shutting the door behind him. Only then did the figure step out of the shadows and collect his blade. It was the Kings son. “If you can kill one king you can just as easily kill the next, no matter what reasons you had.” The prince stepped out the door. The door guards were in a drugged stupor, as were all the other guards in the kings quarters. The assassin had made it look as if the king had killed himself. Yet he left the only witness alive. Why?
Will add more...