Death to the King
The figure went by unseen. This was no surprise considering that nobody was looking for a Trepion in the capitol. Almost too easy, the figure thought as it crossed the plaza. The spectators cheered as another person fell through the trap door and had his neck snapped by the noose.
Seated on a comfortable throne a bulbous man looked at the spectacle through a palace window. When the cheers reached him he flinched. Why are they cheering, he thought, they are supposed to be silent in fear. He waved his hand and quickly a goblet of wine was pushed into it. Absentmindedly he put it to his lips and emptied it. It was refilled, but before he could drink a sharp, almost hissing voice interrupted. "Your majesty, shall I have more hanged tomorrow?"
"Yes, about the same number as yesterday. Make sure that whomever cheers the loudest today is among them tomorrow."
"It shall be done as you wish, your majesty." The high priest bowed deeply.
At least he knows how to act in front of a king, the bulbous king thought as he looked on as the high priest started backing out, when he noticed something. The cheers had stopped. He turned his gaze to the masses, trying to figure out the reason for the change in tone. Following the pointing hands his eyes were guided to the third floor on the west wing where a black spot broke up the ornate gold and red ornaments.
The figure grimaced. The room that the informant had pointed out was empty. Too easy indeed, they thought as the inky portal behind them slowly closed, returning some of the darkness back to the figure. Hearing armoured boots quickly approaching from the left, the figure turned to the right.
The goblet hit the floor, spilling the wine all over. The kings eyes were wide open in fear when he realised what was going on. A second later the doors to the room flew open and a patrol of royal guards burst in. "Majesty! Trepion Assassin in the palace! We must get you out!" The guard didn't wait for an answer and waved to carriers, who came to the throne and with straining muscles lifted up both throne and king.
As the group was rushing through room after room, the king managed to splutter a question to noone in particular: "The shield should have stopped him, how is he here?"
One of the guards responded as they ran through the study: "We don't know! The shield is still act-watch it!" The guard was cut off as the next doors slammed open, revealing the library and a hooded figure in the commoners colours of green and yellow holding a inky black knife.
The carriers collided with the guards up front who stopped, causing the throne to drop. The king landed hard and had the wind knocked out of him as the figure charged.
Predictable, the figure thought as the guards instinctively tried to go into a stance made to keep people at a distance, a distance which they never got. The figure ducked and weaved between the guards, stabbing them. One by one they fell screaming as the wounds left by the Trepions blade were not hindered by armour and the amount of bleeding was substantially higher than would be possible with a steel blade of that size. The servants fled as the massacre came to an end, leaving only the king with the figure.
"How ...", the King coughed, "How did you get through the shield?"
The figure pushed the blade through the kings throat and spoke with a voice that echoed more than any other, "A shield is only as good as the man behind it."