River of Thames

Part Four

"Et tu, Brute?"

Sir Caesar's transfixing voice echoed in my head.
The moment my shining, golden dagger made an impact within Caesar's bleeding flesh. I felt like vomiting. I felt like I should have died instead.
As I slid my dagger out of his liver region, blood squirted from the wound. Some of the scarlet liquid splashed onto the flesh of my hand.

It was warm.

I stated Sir Caesar in the face. He smiled.

He. Smiled.

A somber smile. Like... he was proud of me.

Proud for taking a stand, or proud for another brilliant plan to bestow upon the great country of England.

I watched Caesar's eyes cloud over, as he sunk to his knees, and fell to his side.

"My son, Brute, draw near." His dying, raspy voice called to me like a serene siren.

I hesitated for a moment. I glance behind me.

The rest of my clan members stared at the dying man coldly, no emotion on their faces. Aside from pride or mania perhaps.

The only cold feeling I felt was the freezing breath of Sir Caesar as I brought myself closer to his being. The warm blood on my hand, skidded on the marble, sending me closer to Sir Caesar than I wanted.

"Why?" His lips whispered out.

"I-"

I was speechless. I had no words for my actions. I was remorseful. But this had to be done, surely, it had to be done.

"It was for the good of England." I bring myself back down to reality and away from my guilty thoughts.

"Et tu, Brute... et tu, Brute..." Sir Caesar mumbled to himself as he shook his head.

"Et tu, Brute...?"

"Et tu, Brute...?"

"Et tu, Brute...?"

Echoed in the marble front of the capitol building.

His dying words haunted my being, sending chills up and down my spine.

"Yes. I, Brutus. " I stared into his face.

"Et tu Brute..." he raspily called out once more.

His eyes began to shut, as I watched the life slither out of him like a serpent out of its den.

A single tear slid down his cheek.

"et

tu

brute..."