An Old Friend of the King

Part 3

          "Lich King," Prince Anduin said, not letting the incredulity in his eyes carry into his voice, "I command you to release my father."

          "With all due respect, as soon as I let him go, he will do his best to kill me." 

          Anduin's brow furrowed, but he flicked his wrist and several guards stepped forward to restrain the king. Another couple of guards flocked to either side of Arthas and placed their hands on the hilts of their swords, a silent threat.

          Arthas followed without complaint as Anduin signaled him and his guards to follow him behind the throne room into a private council chamber. The looming Lich King and stately prince sat across each other at the table as the guards filed to opposite sides of the room. 

          "You're supposed to be dead," the prince said immediately.

          Arthas smiled ruefully. "I am dead. Undead, rather." At the prince's frown, he continued: 

          "As I lay dying, severely wounded by the adventurers, my father came to me. He told me it was over, that it would be all right. At that moment, when I saw my father with a smile  on his face and without grudge for all the things I had done, I remembered Arthas before he became the Lich King. 

          "Then there was nothing. I was nowhere, but somehow Ner'zhul, the first Lich King and my predecessor, approached me and offered me a way to return to life. I hated him for what he had made me, but I agreed. Laughing, he disappeared, but not before I ran my sword, our sword, into his heart. 

          "I awoke where I had died, in the Icecrown Citadel. I knew I was no longer the Lich King, but Arthas Menethil, son of Terenas Menethil. Invincible, my horse, came to me, and I knew where I must go. I flew immediately to Stormwind, to face the king and find redemption, or pay for my crimes."

          Anduin said nothing. He could have been a statue. He was known for his healing skills and firm belief in the Light, so Arthas did not expect him to welcome the former Lich King with open arms. 

          "What happened to your father?" Arthas asked. 

          The prince looked up suddenly. Arthas expected him to give the order for the guards to take him to the blackest cell in the dungeon, but instead he shook his head. 

          "You were like a brother to my father, and for that reason alone I will not arrest you. Yet. My father changed very suddenly, on the same day a messenger arrived with news of the Dark Lady Sylvanas's failure to keep her band of renegade undead together. They had split up into several groups and were being picked off by Alliance scouts in the surrounding regions. 

          "Several more scouts were sent out on hippogryffs to survey the region while we celebrated in the great hall with a feast. The messenger was given a place of honor at the table, on the king's right hand side. 

          "A few days later, the handful of scouts who had not been murdered by the undead returned with the news that Sylvanas's Forsaken were stronger than ever. The messenger was placed under arrest for poisoning the king. By then, my father didn't trust his closest advisers and couldn't remember who I was. This was a couple of days ago."

          "Then why was he still sitting on the throne by the time I arrived?" Arthas growled. 

          "We didn't want the people of Stormwind to panic. If they knew that our enemies had infiltrated the city and were able to poison the king undetected, the entire city would have fallen to anarchy within a day. 

          "Every evening, when my father usually left the throne room for supper, the city's most trusted medics were called in, but no one has been able to find a cure. My father gets worse every day."

          Arthas stood. "Take me to him."

          "What?" The prince arose after him.

          "I taught Sylvanas everything she knows. I can heal the king."

          Suspicion arose in the young prince's countenance, but he nodded and led Arthas to the king. The guards followed silently behind.