Origin of the 12th

Chapter 7: The Death of a King

The room was bitterly silent. King Nacaan was lying on his bed, his hands crossed upon his chest and breathing heavily as if struggling to stay alive. Jonathan stood at his father's side, his face stern and solemn as if trying to contain himself. I stood behind Jonathan, not really thinking anything, but trying to be ready in case he needed me.

Then the king spoke. "Jonathan, my son. Come to me." His voice, once so powerful yet gentle, had been reduced to a hoarse croak. Jonathan hung his head and obeyed.

"Father." Jonathan said quietly in response. It was all he could muster. He began to tremble, the dreaded liquid forming at his eyes.

"Do not weep, my son. You must remember what I've taught you. Do not lose hope, because it will be at your darkest hour that you can become the man you want to be. You must take that chance when it presents itself." King Nacaan choked out. He held out his hand and Jonathan took it.

There was a brief moment of silence. Jonathan continued to kneel with his head down, clutching his father's hand as if it was the last line keeping him on the Earth. Then, in a low voice, he said. "I will."

King Nacaan's eyes twinkled for a moment, and it almost seemed as if he would regain his strength. Then his arm went limp and his eyes closed. I thought he was dead until he uttered "Dear Katrina, would you also come closer?"

I stared at him, a little puzzled that he would want to talk to me instead of spending his last moments with his son. But I followed his request, walking to his bedside and sitting down. "What do you desire, Your Majesty?" I asked, knowing that he was struggling just to remain alive.

"My Dear Katrina. I know that you came from a land away from Jericho. I know that Jericho took everything from you when you were brought as a slave. I know that you struggled through Jericho's society that so opposed you for things that you could not control. Yet despite this, you persevered and fought for Jericho throughout your entire life. You have also remained true to yourself and to your mother's last words. And for that, I thank you." King Nacaan murmured, down to the last reserves of his energy. "I have always wanted to be like a father to you, but I have never truly been able to deserve you calling me that."

I stood there, shocked at what he had said. How did he know that about me? I hadn't even met him at that point. I wondered how he knew about my mother's last words specifically, but I decided not to bother him about it. "Thank you, Your Majesty." I stammered, unable to think up of anything else to say.

Then I noticed that he was crying. Liquid was pouring out of his eyes at alarming rates. King Nacaan was actually crying. The great king of Jericho himself was crying. The tears were flowing out of his eyes faster than the flow of the Jordan, making it seem that he was going to shrivel up. Jonathan noticed it too."Father, please don't." He started, but King Nacaan ignored him.

"I must!" He wailed, more loudly than I had thought that his body was capable of. "I must confess myself to Katrina!" He paused, before continuing in a much quieter voice. "Nothing that has happened to her has been a coincidence. It was on my orders that the soldiers that took you were there in the first place. It was on my orders that they allowed your mother to give you a final message and wrote down what she said. It was on my orders that you were taken to the city square to be sold as a slave. On that day, I allowed Jonathan to leave the castle when he sensed your presence in the city. I advised him to be at the city wall because I knew that you would kill your master. I know that what I've done is unforgivable."

Both Jonathan and I stood there, staring at the dying king. In a normal situation, someone would probably feel furious if she had just been told that her life was set up by someone whom she had grown up under. But I didn't feel any anger towards the old man. Instead I only felt pity and confusion. Pity for this man who had been burdened to carry this information for ten years and had not been able to discard it for fear of losing the girl that he had tried to get to Jericho. Confusion about why I was so special that King Nacaan would go through such lengths to get me into Jericho without having ever met me before. Even more confusing what how he knew that I existed, especially because my mother wasn't remotely wealthy.

I looked at Jonathan, who nodded slowly. And then I spoke. "You should not be having any regrets. Because what is past is past already, but who we are is determined by how we shape our present and our future. I forgive you Father. May you rest in peace."

King Nacaan smiled, and his eyes closed. "Thank you, my daughter." He breathed as his breath left him. His limbs went limp and his skin grew cold. And so King Nacaan died. Right there on his bed. Not defeated by any man, but by the hand of whatever God was out there. As his heart stopped beating, I felt a strange sensation on my neck as if the mark was retracting into my skin. I paid it no heed though, because it was a fleeting thought and not worth consideration.

*********************************************************************

His funeral was held the next morning. Jonathan and I filled his body with preservative plants and we buried him in the secret room under the throne. Directly following was the ceremony to make Jonathan the new king. Jonathan wanted me to be the only person to help prepare him for his crowning. The sun had begun to set behind the barrier that was Jericho's wall.

"I don't deserve this." He said, looking up into the clouds in the orange sky.

"What do you mean?" I asked abstractly as I was polishing the crown. My thoughts were delving into various possible battle strategies in case something went wrong with the traps. "You are the prince; so when the king dies, you succeed him. It's how being the prince works."

"I mean that I don't deserve to take my father's place." Jonathan replied. "I don't have what it takes to take his place. Especially in such a hopeless time such as this one. Change in leadership is never good right before war."

"Don't say such things about yourself." I said as encouragingly as I could while remaining absentminded. "If this situation seems hopeless, then you need to be that hope that the people can believe in. Leaders inspire people. That's why they follow them."

"I'm not nearly as inspiring as you are." Jonathan said, rubbing his head sheepishly as he spoke.

"I'm a girl. Those don't inspire anybody. Not even other girls." I replied, not paying any serious attention to the conversation. If the Israelites somehow survived the traps, then they would still have to knock down the wall. If their God didn't do anything, then the wall was literally invincible.

"You inspire more than you realize. Even Doash, who would normally never be inspired, is inspired by you." Jonathan said as a maid walked in, signifying that it was time. "Do you want to come?"

"Good luck." I remembered to say before trying to return to my train of thought. But something stopped me before I managed to do so. It was a sinking feeling of anticipation that felt something like dread.

"What if this is the last chance?" I wondered before snapping out of it. Nevertheless, I chose to watch as Jonathan walked to his father's throne where the priest of Baal was waiting for him. A massive crowd had congregated in front of the throne room, eager to see the crowning of their new king.

Then the priest began speaking. "We gather here today, to mourn the death of our King Nacaan. Under him, Jericho experienced greater prosperity and peace than it had ever done so before. But now as the sun sets on his reign, it is simply the dawn of his son's. To the fine city of Jericho. By the power bestowed upon me, I introduce to you King Jonathan. May your reign be long and prosperous." With that, the priest lowered the crown onto Jonathan's head and the crowd erupted in cheers.

As he rose, the crowd began chanting "Long live the King!" in great unison. Jonathan silenced them with a motion.

"Jericho! Heed these words and take them to heart." Jonathan spoke, projecting his voice across the crowd. "A great peril has befallen our city. But do not fear it. Instead, believe. Believe that we will make it through this ordeal and Jericho shall never be defeated." At these words, the crowd's roars amplified, temporarily deafening all who heard them.

"We can only hope." I thought as I turned and walked away, determined to find Doash to get the traps installed. I touched the place where my mark used to be absentmindedly, but quickly refocused. There was no time to waste on mourning the death of our king.