Link to part 1
“I can’t believe that didn’t work!” Marcia complained as she stabbed the salmon and took a chunk off for her plate.
Quintus sat opposite her as they had lunch. His short brown hair hung lightly over his wrinkled brow. The emperor was out in the city that afternoon, deciding which new buildings were to be named after him.
“Well you weren’t exactly convincing with the whole ‘hysterical’ bit,” he quipped as he took a piece for himself.
“Oh shut it,” said Marcia, still livid from earlier, “It’s your fault he threatened us with death.”
“Yes, the Emperor is quite a child like that. Still, we cannot let him fight in the games,” said Quintus, determinedly.
Marcia thought for a bit until a sinister look appeared on her face. “Well, I happen to be friends with a fellow who sells poisons…”
Quintus started choking on his food the instant she said that. After several seconds of choking he began to speak. “WHAT!? Are you serious?! You can’t truly be suggesting…”
“I am,” said Marcia.
Quintus thought about it for what seemed like an eternity, before taking a deep breath. “You’re right. It’s the only way. If he participates in the games, he’d be the laughing stock of the provinces, and the people wouldn’t take him seriously. This could incite them to rebel.”
Marcia stared and nodded her head. “I was going to say he’s an arrogant man-child that’s not fit to rule but also a valid point.”
“So what’s the plan then?” asked Quintus.
“I serve him wine every night as he’s taking his bath. I sprinkle some poison in, and serve it to him. Simple as that.” Marcia concluded, grinning to herself, pleased with her cunning.
Quintus nodded in approval. “A sound plan, but who will succeed him? He doesn’t have an heir, and an empire needs an emperor. Maybe… Pertinax?”
Marcia thought for a bit. “He’s a good prefect, sure, and a good soldier from what I’ve heard. Why not?”
“Then we have our plan.” Said Quintus, with a grim expression on his face. “Killing a king is no trivial matter, however, so if we’re really going to do this, we need a backup plan.”
“Fair point,” said Marcia as she neatened her hair. “I seem to remember Narcissus fuming about the emperor’s insistence on stretching in the nude.”
“His personal trainer? Excellent idea! We just need to approach him.”
“I’ll go get him now,” said Marcia, getting up from her seat.
Quintus kept a grave look on his face as he sat in silence at the table. Out of all the things he thought he would be doing when he woke up this morning, the last thing on his mind was toppling an emperor.
A few minutes later, Marcia returned with Narcissus in tow. He was a massive man, tan and strongly built, but with a soft and high pitched, squeaky voice. They sat him down and told him of the plan, his eyes widening with each sentence. “Absolutely not!” The Grecian athlete said loudly. “I don’t want to get executed for regicide.”
“But you won’t get executed for killing him,” retorted Quintus. “I control the guards. You won’t get in trouble unless I say you will.”
The Greek slab of muscle mulled it over in his tan head. “Okay. I’ll do it if the poison fails, but only if it means never having to see him stretch again.” The mighty wrestler shuddered at those words.
“So then we have a plan?” said Marcia, eager to get the deed over with.
“We do,” said Quintus grimly. “We’ll do it tonight.”
“Agreed,” said Narcissus. “Just please, no more stretching.”
***
The thrilling conclusion to this epic story of death and stretching will come soon. Keep your eyes peeled on your feed!
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