Image of Mdina, Malta from Google maps; altered from original by Steven Tilly
Clashing swords and screams echoed against the city’s stones. Varak and his retainers skidded to a stop, blocked by foreign intruders.
“You idiots! I am Karna Varak.” The expected recognition failed to materialize. “I support Zivko. I financed this coup!”
Varak ignored his guards’ shocked glances.
The foreigner snarled. “You karnas are all scum. You’d say anything.” He attacked.
Varak ducked behind his guards. They were outnumbered. They wouldn’t last. He ran.
Zivko would be attacking the azidaja now, stealing his throne. Double traitor, then, abandoning his secret council allies. Varak threw off his noble robes, a rudimentary disguise.
The street was empty. He might yet reach the gate. He dashed around the corner, into his enemies’ arms.
Varak threw up his hands, simpering. “Spare me! I am nobody! Nothing!”
The sun glittered off his rings.
The foreigner grinned as he skewered the karna. “And now you are even less.”
Word count: 150. Written in response to this week’s What Pegman Saw challenge. Click the link to see the other stories written about this or nearby Google Map images of Mdina, or to write your own story.
I hope today’s story stands on its own. But in case you’re wondering, it’s based on a much longer story I’m revising this weekend. In that story, the traitor general Zivko defeats the azidaja (like an emperor, who’s also considered the son of their god), with the help of the city-state’s long-time enemies (the foreigners mentioned here), and usurps the throne. Varak is not part of that story; I made him up for this one, and once I thought of him and what he’d done, I was more than happy to kill him off.