I should have known.
Power is that one thing that every man craves. Most find enough to sate them. It gets them up every morning and lets them sleep every night. It keeps them where they are. There are even those few who find themselves with more power than they ever wanted – some of the best kings have been men who fall into that category. Cautious wielders of the reins placed within their grasp. They lead their men forward, taking every step at their side, celebrating their victories and dying their deaths.
They are usually the best of us.
And then there are men like myself. Men who seek power under every rock, deep inside every crevasse. When it is not presented to us on a silver plate, we strike out and take it, sacrificing men and supplies as though they mattered not at all. A closed door does not present a challenge for us – merely something to be broken down with as much force as possible. We don't just lay siege to cities and take them. We demolish them, burn them, salt them until they are as useless to us as they are to any other human. Because, in the end, the city has already relinquished the one thing it had to offer us.
Power.
I know myself well enough to recognize the traits, and I saw them as a young boy. I knew that whether or not I was destined for greatness was irrelevant – I would take that destiny from anyone I could with my bare hands.
And I grabbed it as soon as I saw it. Even as I hung my head in appropriate mourning for my father, my generals were already making their moves on my orders, securing that my next steps would take me to the throne instead of the executioner's block. Assassination is a common demise for powerful kings, and I knew my father had a great many enemies. I wasn't caught unawares by his death, and my men were already in place, just waiting for my word.
It wasn't enough for me, of course. I had a long arm, and I reached it out to all sides, collecting kingdoms as other men collect goods. My army grew and I ran at their helm, sword blazing in the desert sun as I set my eyes on each new piece of land we encountered. I would rule it all.
I would rule the world.
And yet. In the end, I was felled by a man I thought too foolish to have any ambition. I let his demeanor fool me, instead of watching him the way I did every other man in my company. I believed him to be an entertaining friend, if a useless tool, and let him walk behind me, never thinking that I'd have to watch my back.
I should have known.
I know now how this will end. At first I believed myself only to be ill, but as my body shuts down piece by piece, I realize my naïveté. The poison has eaten through every defense I have, cutting off my ability to speak or move. All I can do is lay here, watching the people pass me by, watching my power slip out of reach.
A hand touched mine and then a face swam into view. A face I had always seen with a lecherous smile, that now had preying eyes and a calculating grin.
"Come, brother," he whispered. "You must fight this. Whatever will become of your empire?"
Medius. A member of my entourage I had overlooked as nothing more than a friend to enjoy life's pleasures with. A man who had spent extensive time in Egypt, learning their ways, their secrets.
Their poisons.
"I will pray to the gods," he continued.
I knew that he would. But not for my recovery in this life or any other. He wished my death.
And I had handed it to him on a silver plate.
I should have known.
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