Page 194 of War Queen
Gregor held a small force around him, a force already wavering. When he saw Soren, his eyes widened, rimmed with fear. He froze.
Soren smiled.
It was a good day to kill a king.
Soren pressed his mount toward him as the last of the Japheth king’s forces were cut down.
“Come on!” Gregor screamed at him.
Oh, he was coming.
“And, Cyrus!” Gregor screamed out into the sky. “Fuck you and your witch, you coward! The gods will curse you!”
Soren’s smile grew. Too bad Gregor couldn’t see it underneath his wrap. He pulled it down. It was rare he wanted to show his face, but this king would see him as he died.
Gregor tried to rein his horse around to flee, and he struck its flank with the flat of his sword. But instead of jumping to a gallop back toward Japheth, the beast reared, dropping Gregor to the ground before taking flight.
Poetic.
When Soren reached him, he dropped down from his destrier. “Looks like even your horse abandoned you,” he said to Gregor as he lumbered nearer. “Along with your ally.”
Gregor stumbled to his feet and clutched his sword, holding it out, threatening. “I’m not afraid of you, Destroyer!”
Soren chuckled. “Yes, you are.” And he swung and severed Gregor’s sword arm.
Gregor screamed. He gaped in terror at Soren as he held the stump that had once been connected to his hand. Blood pulsed from the wound, feeding the battlefield. “Don’t kill me!” he cried.
Soren delivered a sharp blow to Gregor’s stomach, and the king fell to the ground. “I’m not going to kill you,” he said as he knocked off Gregor’s helmet. He grabbed the king by his thinning hair and pulled him to his knees, stepping behind him and holding him still. “I’ve saved that for someone who wants your head even more.”
Phillip stepped in front of Gregor.
“You!” the Japheth king seethed with spittle around his mouth.
Phillip only stared at him. Soren knew that stare—the realization of a moment long dreamed.
“I’m the rightful king of Aleon!” Gregor spat at him. “You don’t have what it takes to be the king of an empire!”
Phillip’s eyes brimmed full of emotion. “I’ll be the last king of Aleon. When I’m gone, I’ll give the empire to democracy. But not before I erase you from history.”
“You can’t erase me!” Gregor screamed. “I’m the firstborn of Horath, and the rightful heir! Japheth, Hetahl, and Aleon are my birthright!”
Phillip said nothing. He only pulled his dagger and held it to Gregor’s throat.
Gregor choked on a raging sob. “You would destroy the empire our family has worked so hard to build?”
Phillip’s eyes met Soren’s. His voice softened. “Sometimes those feared for destroying things… actually make them better.” His eyes locked back on Gregor. “I’ll make Aleon better. Greater than it ever was.”
Gregor seethed under Soren’s hold. “You think this war is done?” he snapped. He looked back at Soren over his shoulder. “Well, I’m not the only one fooled today. Ask yourself, where is Cyrus?”
Soren stared down at the pitiful excuse for a king. “He’ll join you soon.” He glanced back at Phillip and nodded.
Phillip drew the blade along Gregor’s throat, spilling blood down the Japheth king’s front. Gregor gurgled and sputtered, and Soren held him as he flailed weakly. Phillip only stood, watching him, clenching the bloodied dagger in his hand. When Gregor’s body stilled, Soren pushed him forward to the ground.
And it was done.
Phillip stood frozen. Then his lip quivered. His lips parted in a silent cry, and his body shook. He started to sink. Soren surged forward over Gregor and caught him, stopping him from dropping to his knees. He gripped Phillip’s face, pulling him to meet his eyes.
“Stand,” Soren commanded. “High King.”
