Chapter Sixty One
By then, a part of him wanted to scream and warn the King that there was movement coming from behind him to kill the very person he tried so hard to protect. He wanted to scream and alert them all that the entire war was just some stupid smokescreen to distract them from watching over the wounded Prince. "Look out…" he'd begun.
Yet, there was the sound of blade slashing against flesh again; the sound of blood splattering, and of course, the sound of a groan.
Almost automatically, all motion ceased within the space of the war. He could feel it. The henchmen had paused; so had the wolves. And consequently, the immortals had stopped as well.
All eyes fell on Martin who was presently on his knees with a spear driven through his torso and out the other side. Blood dropped down from the tips in tiny drops, falling to mar the green grass beneath him. With a pained look in his teary eyes, the Prince glanced down at his wound and took his shivering fingers to it.
Deep down, Martin Tonnel knew this was the destined end. He'd seen it coming, felt that the entire charade to save him would turn out in vain.
Glancing round his allies, the hurt he felt was for them. They'd turned quiet and shocked, staring at him in disbelief and raw anger. Especially his brothers.
"Martin!" Jeremy shrieked out loud. His skin red with agony, he felt the tears blind his vision while sweat wetted his face. When his knees grew weaker, he surrendered to his fours and just stared, jerking his body as the cries followed.
Jeremy fisted the ground over and over just before his fingers dug into his hair with rae frustration. He'd failed; as a son, a brother, a Prince! He'd watched three brothers die and was too weak to do anything about it! At this moment, he couldn't care less even if his own life was taken too.
And Abraham…
The King had frozen in place. Many thoughts ran through his head that moment, thoughts that strived to drive him insane. It still looked unreal to him, staring as his older brother fell to his side, blood seeping through his mouth and wound. At that moment, there wasn't even any room for emotion. All he felt coursing through him then was tiredness.
Slowly, he knelt over Martin with stern composure. Abraham lifted his brother's head slowly into his arms and just watched him as he struggled to form the words that would very well be his last.
"I see why father chose you, Abraham…" he finally stuttered and gargled on some of the blood that threatened to drown his words. Forcing a laugh despite the pain gnawing at him, he stated, "You'll make us proud."
With one final nod, his eyes shut. And that was that.
Abraham laid him calmly upon the grass and just stared. It was obvious something complex was going through his head and messing with it. In the background, he could hear the cries of Jeremy. Asides that, it was silent; from his allies to the wolves and even the henchmen who'd succeeded in killing their prey. For how much again…
Five hundred pieces of silver. The so-called mortals he was trying so hard to save. He was careful enough not to make tears make their way to his eyes.
Giving his head one decisive nod, he rose slowly to his feet. If he'd just lost a brother, he didn't show it.
Glancing around, everyone was gawking at him. It was obvious they were expecting him to react; to do something, say something. Throw a feat and get angry, maybe. Because they all knew it was far more dangerous when he stayed calm and unreadable like that.
"That is it," he began with a sneer. "You all can tally along, go home now. There is no more saving humanity as far as I am concerned. The fools don't deserve it."
"Abraham, don't…" his Aunt began. Infact, she was the only one confident enough to say something to him without getting hurt.
The King raised his hand to stop her. His eyes still on his brother's corpse, he shook his head. Sighing, he switched his attention to them. The look in his eyes was adamant. Obviously, there was no changing his mind. "He killed Raphael…" he scoffed. "I took it. Killed Charles; I mourned him. Now…using the exact people I strive to save, he killed Martin! Now, I get it! Ozii was trying to prove a point when he did that…to show me something. And I admit it, he darn well did achieve that. I see it…their true, despicable colours. The people who'll stab your own back and all manner of atrocities for money and gold. I am done!"
From where he knelt, Jeremy watched him, obviously having no say in the matter. As much as he wished to agree with him, he understood the entire set-up was a plan to get him to denounce his mission.
With that, Ozii had painfully achieved it.
Vizal knew this too. Somewhere deep down, he felt emotion; anger. Ozii could go lengths to achieve a goal, but this was farfetched. Even for him.
With a slow nod, he turned around and walked away, slightly disappointed the thunder djinn had won this.
Razia was gasping. The King's decision had been rash and unplanned, but there was no talking him out of it. The wolves had finally dispersed. It was all obvious now.
The war, the kidnap; everything was all a plot to weaken him and blacken his heart. He'd fallen for it…they all had. Still trying to catch her breath, she felt tears roll down her cheeks in total dismay.
With Abraham out of this, they were no match against Ozii and that was a fact.
The King gazed at her for a second or two, narrowed his eyes and commanded. "Let's go home, Razia."
***
"You will not believe what just happened!" Ozii's voice came loud enough to pierce the noise of the storm outside. A bout of happiness fueled him, placing a rare grin on his face while he staggered deeper into the darkness of the cave. From her world of concentration, Martha looked up from her book to stare at their leader. Without much time wasted, she returned to her studies and heaved a soft sigh.
Asides her, the other seven were seated quietly around the lair even at his arrival. If you didn't know better, you'd assume they were in mourning. It was obvious in the mood that poisoned the air and made it go stale. Usually, Ariel would be the one to lead the backlashing of questions with that tempting tongue of hers.
If not, Babel would have dropped a disdainful response. However, none of that happened and his eight allies remained slumped on the stone and lost on less interesting matters.
Ozii believed he could lighten the mood. "Abraham has backed out! We're free, friends! For we could tear down whoever we want…whenever we want without having to worry about some fire breathing djinn at our backs."
Certainly, that should entice them. When it didn't, the djinn's grin was gone.