The Swine of the Kingdom | Teen Ink

The Swine of the Kingdom

May 27, 2015
By Sarephine BRONZE, Parker, Colorado
Sarephine BRONZE, Parker, Colorado
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

“What is wrong with your soul?” Mavis said, shaking her head at the boy kneeling in front of her. “This is your third time this month!”
“I’m sorry, m’Lady. I didn’t mean to offend you, or anger you. I am just doing my job,” he spoke with a child's unmatured voice.
“Killing my first general is not your job!” she shrieked, her face turning a deep red. Her chest puffed out and she wrung the life out of her billowing skirts. “He was the best general I ever had, and you just ‘had’ to kill him! You ungrateful barbarian!” Mavis kicked out at the boy but he was too quick. Tilting his head two inches to the left he dodged her badly aimed kick. Mavis’s momentum carried her foot high into the air, knocked her off balance, and she fell flat on her massive rump.
“Madame, it isn’t right to kick at young boys,” a teasing, thick voice said from her right.
“He taunted me! What else was I supposed to do?” she wailed, flailing on the ground with her attempts to get her mammoth frame off of the cold unforgiving marble.
“That’s going to leave one murderous bruise for your husband to discover in the bed tonight,” the same teasing voice said, with a smirk lancing through his elegant speech.
“Oh, do shut up, Jester.”
“Maybe it’ll even be in the form of a heart,” the young boy joined in, unable to hold himself back from poking fun at the toppled woman. Her legs kicked out at him even from her flipped turtle position.
“Maybe I’ll just take your head as payment for my general,” Mavis squealed as the Jester pushed her up with the help of three of Mavis’s soldiers.
“I wouldn’t make a pretty head, m’Lady,” the boy said flashing a smile. Mavis didn’t catch the devil's grin as she leaned down to brush off her dark red silk skirts.
“I don’t care about beauty,” she said scowling at the boy. “I just want to make the king fear my power,” she hissed, stepping towards the crouched boy. He bowed his head, a smirk sliding across his hidden features.
“I see now why your face resembles a horse's behind,” the Jester spoke up with a jingle of bells and a forced laugh. Mavis whirled away from the boy, back towards the vile jester.
“You did not just call me an--”
Her words were violently cut off as a sword plunged through her back, darting in and out of her chest to find its resting place at the boys hip.
“Yes I did call you a horse's behind, and I’d do it again!” The jester sang dancing around the barely moving muscle mass sprawled across the floor. Her grey eyes flashed with a desperate anger. She exhaled once more, the anger trapped in her sightless eyes until  day they decayed.
“Stupid swine, never kick at an assassin who has been trained to kill since before he could walk,” the boy said.
“Hello, Joseph, nice of you to finally drop by," the jester said, "the king's been waiting for you to take out this specific creature.” The jester gestured at the cooling hunk of meat on the ground. The boy smiled at the multi-colored jingling joke of a man.
“It took me a while. Now excuse me, while I take out her men,” Joseph spoke with confidence as he turned to the three soldiers, who had just barged in from a hidden door. A vicious smile played across his young features.  Joseph lunged for the closest soldier. The unprepared man went down with a quick slash to the throat; he was too surprised to mutter anything besides a half drowned gurgle. The second was stunned at having his comrade assassinated he barely dodged the knife thrust at his throat, but not the sword jabbed into his stomach. He yelped as his life bled out his gut. The third put up a little more of a fight. He swung his sword out slashing weakly in the direction of Joseph.
These men were trained to look good, not fight well. They’re pathetic, the boy thought as his sword danced into the man’s rib cage pierced his fragile heart and stole the life from him. Joseph took a deep breath, wiping the blood off of his sword on the red cape of one of the fallen soldiers capes. The jester stood near the door grinning.
“You have matured. The king will be pleased to know that his son has grown into a skilled assassin. He will now deem you ready to take on more important missions. Please be prepared,” the jester said, “I’m proud of you, my boy.” He smiled at Joseph showing the gaps in his teeth.
“Well, you might be proud, but father will only scorn me, unless I prove myself worthy of the crown. Let us move onto our next target. This time I don’t want you infiltrating as closely to the target. If they discover you it would be a tragedy,” Joseph said as he moved, on silent feet, down the hall and away from the bloody scene behind him. The maids would have a lot of cleaning up to do.



Similar Articles

JOIN THE DISCUSSION

This article has 0 comments.