Stories in Short #8 (Daily Prompt: Sated)



The king sat atop the high chair at the end of the hall. Before him lay a spread of unimaginable gluttony: fat pigs, horses heads, cow’s testicles sauteed in French red wine, the brains of extinct monkeys, the heart of his worst enemy, which he nibbled after every meal, as an aperitif.

At his side stood the Lord of the Table, his personal dinner-servant. After the meal was finished, the servant would go with the King to the bathroom and clean his arse and wipe his mouth.

“Bring the boy,” said the King to the Lord of the Table.

The man, dressed in a tunic too tight for him, and curled shoes with a golden bell at the end of the toe, nodded and then sing-sung and jingled his way across the hall to a small door in the marble wall. He knocked once.

After a moment, the door swung open, and a boy, no older than six years old, fell forwards onto the floor. Both his hands were covered in bloody bandages, and there was some gauze that covered his entire chest, also bloody.

“Get him up! Get him off the floor, lest he dirty it!” screamed the king from his chair.

By the ear, the Lord of the Table dragged the boy across the room. As the blood dripped from the boy’s wounds servants dashed forwards from the shadows and mopped up the mess.

When the boy was stood in front of the king, the king asked, “What will it be today?”

The boy stared at the floor, his body shuddered visibly when the king spoke. On top of the high chair, the king smiled, a wide, dribbling grin.

“Bring the knife,” said the king.

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