I started to worry about my health however within a couple of weeks of getting the sword. Several nights in a row I woke up unable to move. That didn’t concern me that much; I dismissed it as me being only partly awake that I wasn’t able to control my body. What really worried me was that I was starting to feel cold all the time. I finally decided it was time to call on the doctors.
My people were not famous for their medicine by any means. Good medical practice was to knock someone over the head so they passed out before you cut off their leg. I hated to admit that the people I had conquered were better at anything then my own, but with my health in balance, I decided to call in any captive doctors who were around. We met in my private chambers, I didn’t want my people thinking that I was dying or anything, I was a ruler who ruled with power, there was no way that I could show weakness.
Having listened to what I had to say, and having been given the opportunity to examine me, the doctors went into a huddle that I was too far away to listen to. I was a little nervous about that, not being allowed to hear what was being said about my own body was frustrating but I decided to put up with it. After all these people were considered the best in their fields, it was best to humor them even if I was their king.
“You seem to have contracted a slight illness, your majesty, but it isn’t fatal or permanent. We can give you some pills that will make you feel better sooner but even then you will probably suffer symptoms for, oh, about another week,” announced the oldest of the doctors who was obviously the spokesman
“Thank you doctors,” I said, shrugging back into my shirt. You will be sure not to tell anyone about this?” I added, my voice going a little threatening.
“Of course,” said the doctor nervously and they all filed out. A couple of hours later a page came and gave me a box full of pills and a sheet that had instructions written on it.
“Might I add how becoming that sword looks on you, your majesty?” the boy asked me, and then turned and fled. I had to admit that even as much as I like being flattered that seemed like a rather odd thing to just blurt out with, but I decided the boy was probably just a little crazy and decided that I would spend more of my time getting better then thinking about the odd behavior of a page boy.
I got worse. People started to comment on the fact that my skin was looking gray and even people who just brushed up against me started to say that I felt cold and that my skin was almost hard. I also started feeling more sluggish, and finally one morning I just couldn’t get out of bed. I lay there, enjoying just not moving, until finally I heard someone come in.
“Hello, your majesty,” said the former prince, the one who had given me my sword, leaning over my bed so I could see his face. “Do you recognize this?” he was holding my sword in his hand. For a moment I thought he was going to run me through but instead he just breathed on it and polished it with his sleeve. As I watched the sword turned into the perfect figure of me. I tried to shout out but I couldn’t.
“This sword really did become you,” said the former prince laughing. “It was a spell that cost a lot of money but now I have a good question for you. If the sword became you, what do you think you became.” He was almost beside himself with laughter and once again I tried to get out of bed but I couldn’t. To my horror he picked me up in one hand and slid me into the scabbard at the side of what had been my sword.
“Pretty soon your sword will name me his successor, and then he will die, and I will be king, just like I was supposed to be. And if you think that anyone will notice you are mistaken, because I even have your wife, my poor sister, on my side. No one will make a fuss. You, your majesty, will become a family heirloom and get to watch as my family triumphs. And there is nothing you can do about it.” My sword drew me from my scabbard and waved me aloft as the prince continued to laugh until it filled the room.
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