Throne of Blood

Part I Chapter 17

The treasurer of Seavern was a large greedy man named Maximal. He was known to fill his pockets from the Seavern treasure almost as much as he filled his stomach from the marketplace. The people of the city hated him, and everyone despised the days he would come into the city seeking 'taxes' from the people that included both their money and their food.

No one liked the man anyway, Ilor tried to convince himself. Would anyone truly miss him were he to suddenly die? For hours he had tried to convince himself of this after he had been assigned to kill Maximal. For the betterment of the kingdom and the people of Seavern, he had been told. Sleep had availed Ilor that night, and the next morning he found himself exhausted yet fully awake for the task he was to complete that day.

Ilder had devised the plan of bringing a cart of apples to the market, all of which would be poisoned. Ilor would set up this shop and await the treasurer until he made his afternoon rounds in the market in search of the day's best finds. Ilor would then ensure that Maximal took the apple and ate it. It was then up to Ilor to escape and make it back. If he were caught, he was to take some special tablets that had been given to him by Stephen. They would put him to sleep permanently and painlessly. Were he to choose not to take the tablets upon getting caught, the Night Thorns would take care of him themselves, and Ilder had ensured that it would be a much more painful way to go.

The task he had been given seemed daunting and yet he had no other choice. If he ran, they would find him, if he failed to kill Maximal, he would be punished, and he sure didn't like the idea of dying.

As Ilor headed to Stephen to collect the poisoned apples for the day, he once again found himself in a world of regret and frustration at having ended up in such a situation. He hated himself for it and longed to be free of his chains.

"Ah Ilor you are just in time," Stephen said, devoid of all emotion. "Here are the apples for your task. Good luck and do not fail."

"Thanks Stephen," Ilor said as he took the burlap sack of apples and headed out of the quarters towards the market.

As he walked down the main street of the marketplace, he saw all sorts of goods and items throughout the shopping center. His stomach rumbled, and he suddenly realized how hungry he was in spite of his nervous stomach. After spotting some bread, which he then purchased with some of the money Kae had stolen the previous day, he found an open section in the market and set out his apples in an empty wicker basket that he had brought along.

The apples were of a bright golden hue, the likes of which Ilor had never seen. He longed for a taste of the forbidden fruit, only stopping because of their deadly nature. As Ilor munched on his fresh bread, he watched the people of Seavern move about as they purchased their goods for the day. Each person had their own way of buying the food they needed. He saw one man who argued with a fisherman calling him a cheat, while only a few stalls over were a baker and a woman furiously negotiating over the price of that day's bread. For the most part, however, each person bought their goods without much fuss as the people moved about at a rhythmic pace in their everyday lives.

Ilor had to turn away a few people who sought to buy his apples. He had told them an outrageous price each time they had asked, and each person, despite attempting to barter, walked away, cursing the man and calling him a scummy cheat. He wouldn't have minded giving a few of those people some apples, but he ultimately did not want any more blood on his hands than necessary.

As the day wore on and Ilor increasingly became bored, he began to allow the faintest bit of hope to creep in at the idea that the treasurer might not even show. That hope, however, was quickly snuffed out as he heard the noise of the crowd die down. Ilor looked to see what caused the break in rhythm only to see a large, rotund man walking down the street, accompanied by two soldiers of the city.

Ilor felt his heart skip a beat as his pulse quickened at the arrival of his target. He watched as the rotund man made his way down the street collecting money and whatever food he found pleasing. He pleaded internally that the man would suddenly just turn around and go home. That he would find what he wanted early on in the market and decide that it was good enough for him.

The treasure Maximal began to draw in closer and closer to where Ilor was seated. He knew that a confrontation with the man was unavoidable. Eventually, Maximal arrived near Ilor's station. He could hear the man muttering about how there was nothing good in the market that day and how all the people were worthless vagrants until he was stopped short by the sight of Ilor's basket of apples.

"What do we have here boy," the fat man said. "Some rather tasty-looking apples you have there. Where'd you get them?"

"Shipment from Meloas sire," Ilor responded, keeping his head down, avoiding the man's stare. "They are one piece of silver each if you'd like to buy some."

Suddenly the man reached for Ilor's hair and yanked his head up to stare him in the eyes. "Clearly, you don't understand how this works, my young friend," he hissed at Ilor, the fat shaking under his chin. "I'll take your whole basket if I so please," he said, reaching for an apple out of Ilor's basket.

The demeaning treatment of Ilor struck a chord of anger in the boy's heart. He now wished the man to take a bite of the apple so he could reap the consequences of his action. He could not wait to see the poison take effect until the grotesque man was nothing more than an empty shell of lard.

As Maximal released Ilor and stood back up to his full height, he smiled a devilish smile right at the boy as he took a large bite of the apple. The sweet juices ran down his chin and onto his neck as he laughed at having so easily taken the delicious treat from Ilor. His smile soon turned into a face of worry as the man let out a rapid-fire of heaving coughs.

Ilor could feel his pulse quicken with excitement as the treasurer dropped the apple and began foaming at the mouth. He looked to Ilor with eyes that questioned why such a thing had been done to him. The boy didn't care and enjoyed watching the evil man struggle.

Soon Maximal dropped to his knees as his soldiers tried to keep the heavy man from falling. The crowd soon began to enclose around the commotion as the fat man lay there gasping for air and writhing about on the ground until he suddenly was still. The guards turned from the man in search of the apple seller, but Ilor was long gone. He had disappeared into the crowds, celebrating his victory over the disgusting, greedy man.