There are two things a person feels when they are going to kill. The first is a strong kick in the gut of adrenaline, making one's pupils enlarge and muscles twitch rapidly. The second is the realization of sending another's soul into the afterlife, be it an animal, monster, or another human.
The problem is that, sometimes, the second part doesn't come until long after the deed is done, which is where most mistakes are made, Anders thought, recalling his old master's lessons as he continued to quietly creep across the room, his grip tightening around his blade that nearly hummed with hunger for its next kill.
Unni, still downstairs, removed her blade from the last guardsman whose blood now made the floor slick and shiny, watching the stairs for any unwelcome guests. She motioned for the others to cross the hall and get into position in case of an attack, as she proceeded upstairs to the front door to Mads' room.
She silently opened the door, seeing the murderous, hateful look on Anders' face, and the blissful ignorance of the sleeping king.
Anders! It's time to finish this, Unni gestured, waving her hand to catch his attention. Anders snapped out of his small trance, blinking rapidly as he watched her repeat the gesture.
Mads stirred a little under his covers, and Anders nearly became one with the bear-fur carpet beneath him. A few silent and tense heartbeats later, Anders stood at the side of the bed, observing every detail of Mads' face.
He still looks the same as he did all those years ago, he thought, steadying his hand that was shaking with almost uncontrollable rage.
He put his blade to Mads' throat, and covered his mouth with his free hand, startling the sleeping king as he emitted muffled calls for help in vain. "Shh," Anders hushed the man, his eyes downcast as if imperiously looking at an insect. "No one is coming to save you now. Isn't that what you told my wife and child all those years ago?" he seethed, cocking his head to the side. Mads' eyes opened wide, as he recognized the one with the cold blade to his bare throat.
"Ah, so you do remember me. I can see it in your eyes, but do you remember what you did? Do you remember the things that not even the most loving of the gods could ever forgive you for? Because I do, and like them, I'm not here to offer you forgiveness," Anders seethed, adding a bit more pressure to the blade.
The king's eyes widened as he tried to scramble out of his predicament, causing the blade to draw a line of blood across his neck.
"You took everything from me. You murdered my wife, my child, and the one unborn. You stomped on her stomach while she lay with a knife in her throat, and our child's head in her hands on the ground in front of you," Anders growled, holding down one of the flailing arms with a knee.
"Your guards held me as I watched it all happen. You laughed as you spat in her face and pissed into her gaping mouth, calling her a worthless whore as you did so. You chained me up, beat me to little more than a bloody mound of living flesh, and cut off two of the fingers of the hand that now holds a blade to your throat," he seethed, glaring at the trembling man.
Tears welled in his eyes and ran down his cheeks into his beard. "You deserve a much more painful punishment than death, but unfortunately, I don't have the time or the patience to work that all out. I've already spent over ten years dreaming of this day that I never thought would come," he said, causing Mads to squirm as Anders struggled to keep his hand over his enemy's mouth.
"You will not see the light of day, and you will become the plaything of the Undergod. There, you shall suffer for all eternity, and I will finally be at peace knowing that I have put you there," Anders quickly, pushing his face in close to make sure he could see every fragment of life leave Mads' eyes.
Surprisingly, Mads raised a hand to show that he wanted to speak. "You really think you're in a position to negotiate?" Anders sneered, but Mads shook his head to tell Anders he only wanted to say something before the end. "One scream, or anything louder than a whisper, and I'll do the same thing you did to my wife while you're still alive," he seethed.
Mads nodded and gingerly pried the hand away from his mouth. "I know an apology won't save me now," Mads said, his voice trembling and breaking. "You're right about that," Anders seethed, still holding the blade to his throat.
"I know what I have done, and I know that I must atone for it. I always knew that it wasn't you who had failed to guard my wife and children during their pilgrimage; but the one responsible for that failure fled after they were attacked on Hviten Path, never to be found," Mads explained shakily.
"Y-You knew it wasn't me?" Anders asked, his whole world falling apart with the words he was hearing. "I did," Mads replied solemnly, causing Anders to blink away tears that streamed down his face. "Why?" Anders growled, gripping his victim's shirt and pulling him up towards his face.
"Why did you have my family suffer for the fault of another? Why did you have to pull the rug out from under my world? Why did you have to make me beg for death every day since then?" Anders asked angrily.
Mads was silent.
"Answer me, you slimy weasel shit," Anders commanded. "Alright, alright," Mads conceded, raising his hands placatingly. "My councilmen told me that an example needed to be made to ensure that no other man under my command would ever betray their honor and allegiance to Hjalfar again," he began.
"What?" Anders asked, incredulous at what he was hearing. "It's true. I chose you, the one man I knew that everyone knew I trusted above almost all others aside from my wife. I wanted it to be known that no matter one's station or status, one was never above their honor and duty," Mads said regretfully.
"So you chose me? A man who, until that time, had never wavered in his loyalty and had earned his way to his status through pure effort? A man whose life had such value to you?" Anders asked, growing increasingly enraged. "Yes," Mads replied in a shaky voice. Anders' face was wet with tears.
"You dragged me through the deepest depths of the Underworld simply to prove a point. Gods above and below. No, no, no… I don't care about your sob story. Knowing what I know now, I almost wish I had been the one who murdered your family, you mangy fuck! I have never, and will never forgive you for what you did to me," Anders growled as drool fled from his gritted teeth.
"I know," Mads replied, looking up at him with a placid, accepting look in his eyes.
"Do it. Take what is rightfully yours, I have no qualms or arguments remaining that could ever hope to spare me. However, before I leave this world, I must ask you one final favor," he continued. "And why should I hear anything more of what you have to say?" Anders said coldly as Mads looked deeply into his eyes, seeing nothing but the embodiment of the purest hatred.
"Because if there's one thing I've learned in all my years, it is this: the council of others is, more often than not, in the benefit of their own ambitions. So choose your allies carefully. Remember that," Mads nodded. "I already have," Anders replied in the same, cold tone. "Not carefully enough," Mads retorted.
"What…?" Anders asked, confused by his words, but before the king could answer, a hand forced the blade into his throat. "Unni!" Anders raised his voice as he stared at her in confusion. "You were taking too long. We have to go," she urged, noting one of her teammates standing in the doorway.
His blade sank deeply into Mads' throat as blood flowed from the wound, drenching the pillow beneath it. He watched the life ebb from the eyes that stared at him for a moment and removed his knife, taking a deep breath.
"Anders," Unni whispered from the doorway, but he turned to face her with bloodshot eyes. She finally noticed the toll it had taken on him and rushed over to him, taking him in her arms, where he sobbed for a few moments.
"It's over," she said softly. The words felt like a warm bath coming over him as he looked into her eyes. "Thank you for everything, Unni," he said between sniffles. "I couldn't have done this without you," he grabbed her hand.
"I know,, but we must go now, the other guards will be taking their shifts any minute now, and when they find the dead bodies, it will not end well for us," she hushed urgently as he nodded.
"Let's go home," she said, helping him to his feet. "Wait," he held up a hand as he walked over to the desk and grabbed a quill and some parchment. "What are you doing?" she hissed. "Setting an example," he leaned over and began to write.
I, Anders Karlsson, ex-Synner of Odensby and all her glory, have slain the king for dishonorable deeds he has done in the past against myself and other innocent people whom I held dear. Let this be an example to all of those who wish to hunt me down, for this shall be your end should you find me. Soon, I will return to this place when I am ready to rule, and if a single hint of disrespect is shown to me, or any of my comrades, I will kill you myself, he wrote in shaky handwriting before using his blade to pin it to the dead man's chest.
Daylight was on the horizon, and the outcasts observed the guards entering the main palace to take their shifts from the walls where their hooks were prepared for their escape. "One day, we shall return to finish the job; to rule Odensby," Anders said, looking out over the city.
"One day, we'll finish taking it back for ourselves, and regain the lives we once had," he said, turning to Unni. She smiled, grabbed the rope, and began her descent, while he took one last look over the dimly lit city.
And that day will come soon. Wait, what's that dust cloud doing on top of the Rhydian Mountains? That can't be good, he thought before grabbing the hooked rope and descending the wall.