His Majesty,the Emperor of Banzila was not happy, he couldn’t understand why his subjects were beginning to rebel against him. They hadn’t done anything yet, but he could smell a revolution in the air.
The Emperor was smart, it would take more than a revolution to get him off this throne. But he didn’t know who he could trust, he pondered this for a while and decided to call his chief security adviser.
Bismarck had been with the emperor for a long time, ever since he got on the throne of Banzila, so the emperor felt he could be trusted.
“What do you think I should do, the people seem to be getting more agitated by the day,” he confided in Bismarck.
Bismarck took his time, he was never one to rush, he stroked his long white beard, his hawk like eyes encased in very thick rimmed frames, he squinted as if the light in the palace was too bright for him, but in reality there was only a dim bulb on.
After what seemed like ages, the trusted Bismarck finally spoke, “wipe out the traitors!”
That was all he said, but the import of his words was not lost on the emperor, the emperor shifted in his seat, adjusting his robe.
Emperor Javid was an imposing figure, his six foot frame and wide angled shoulders adding to his air of royalty, his long and luxuriant black hair unmistakeable in a crowd. He did not speak for a while carefully considering Bismarck’s remark.
“Set the process in motion,” he finally told Bismarck.
He knew Bismarck would handle it with the greatest of discretion.
“Who do you think we should start with?” he asked his trusted adviser.
Bismarck appeared to pick an insect from his thick beard; he considered the unlucky creature as he rolled it between his thumb and fore finger, when he was finally satisfied he flicked the dead insect across the room.
“Rasheed,” came the long awaited reply, Emperor Javid nodded his head.
Rasheed had become unbearing lately, ever since he had been admitted into the inner council of elders, there had been unconfirmed reports he had been inciting the people against the emperor, Bismarck as usual, was right. The emperor was satisfied.
The emperor had had a long day, but he was now satisfied, he could go to sleep.
The night was a still one, the trees stood stiffly without a breeze to move their branches, a smell of death hung in the air. A lone figure stole across the night, leaving no shadow behind, suddenly hands seized him before he could protest, a hand across his mouth and – silence. The body was left there, still as the night.
Dr Rasheed was not one to miss his ward rounds, but when he wasn’t seen that morning, a maid was sent to call him from his quarters.
The sight she met on the bush path to the Doctors’ quarters made her wish she hadn’t come to work.
That day was a sad one in Banzila hospital; every one was sad, every one that is, except the two oldest patients in the psychiatry ward; Javid and Bismarck.
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