TW: violence, blood, murder. brief and not particularly gory.
a king walks among us
He had not killed in months. He did not miss it. But no one told him “good job” anymore. But he was not supposed to kill. Soldiers protect.
There was so much blood at his feet.
El Rey did not understand the nature of those who picked fights with the strong. So many, far smaller, less equipped, less practiced, had fallen before him. It was not as if he’d never fought off a group.
The alleyway was meant to be a refuge from the stimulus of the market, not a trap.
It turned out to be a trap.
A wicked little colt at one end, dagger in his teeth, halted El Rey. A shadow of a young stallion closed the mouth of the corridor.
From what Rey had seen his father paid after fights, he did not make very much from being a soldier. He said, ”No.” He pressed his rump against the wall, thieves creeping closer. ”You are not very threatening."
The black bull recalled every time his nursemaid and father had called him a clever boy. For fighting, for reading, for writing, for winning. ”You are wrong.”
The colt with the dagger lunged at El Rey. He did not have time to scream. Gold had pierced through the supple flesh of youth before any piece of iron could. The thief gurgled as El Rey lowered his head and let him slide off his horn, onto the ground.
But Rey was not supposed to kill anyone.
”You can’t tell.” Rey leapt at the stallion, a sharp twist of his head catching the thief as he tried to turn away. Their bodies collided with the floor as Rey drove his horns through the stallion’s throat and into the hard ground.
Now he’d killed two people.
But now there was no one to tell.
The black king slowly slid his horns from their perfect, gory slots. Thick, red blood dripped down his nose and onto the cobblestone. He said, ”You are not very smart.”
@Eshek
”in blood the blade, to its golden hilt, I’ll drown,“
I pledge you now, to death they all are bound,
