NationStates Jolt Archive

The harsh crack of the pistol sounded in the lavishly decorated room. The King's eyes widened in shock, hands clasped to his punctured chest as if trying to scoop his life back in through the entry wound. He staggered forwards, mouth opening, then crashed to the floor, his eyes wide but lifeless. Blood seeped through his robe, pooling on the tiled floor.

Bare feet padded across the floor. The robed figure walked towards the dead king, the revolver still in his hand. He knelt at the King's side, then, lifting up his still-warm hand, kissed his gold signet ring.

"I'm sorry, father, but it had to be done. Please forgive me."

Muhammad, second in line to the throne, straightened up and walked away. Without pausing, he tossed his brother's weapon to the floor. It thudded against the tiles. As he walked out of the double doors, he nodded to the two guards stationed there. The clutched their rifles with an air of cool professionalism, yet they seemed disinterested in the murderer.

In ten minutes, they would enter the King's chamber. They would then come out screaming of murder, clutching Saud's ivory-handled gold-chased revolver. They would give testimony against Saud, and to reward their bravery they would be made top-rank officers in the army. Of course, the large wads of banknotes in their pockets would help.

Ten minutes later, the news went out. King Abdul Aziz al-Saud was dead. With laudable speed, Muhammad ordered investigations to be carried out. The killer or killers would be beheaded as traitors.


ooc: To be continued...

The main square in Riyadh was suffused with a morbid presence. A squat wooden platform had been nailed together at the centre, and a horde of townsfolk had gathered around it. Their eyes were mocking, their mouths full of hate and vitriol. Fists pumped in the air as they awaited the spectacle to come. A perimeter of blank-faced guards formed a perimeter around it, semi-automatic rifles loaded, safeties off. They stared down the front row of the mob, daring them to take one step closer. If it hadn't been for the rifles, perhaps they would have. The tension was at fever pitch.

Suddenly there was a throb of engines, and a pair of military half-tracks appeared, twenty-four men leaping from the backs, rifles slung over their backs. With practiced speed, they formed a path from the vehicles to the platform steps. Any man too slow to move was knocked back with the butt of a rifle. The vehicle gunners kept a watchful eye on the crowd. While it would be better if they didn't have to use them, the machine-guns mounted on the vehicles would soon turn a riot into a massacre in their favour.

And finally, the police truck appeared, bearing the leading players in this bloody drama. Their stage awaited, and their crowd was screaming their names. Yusuf bin-Jeddah. Abdul al-Hejaz. And finally, the Crown Prince, Saud bin Abdul Aziz. Each one wore manacles on both hands and feet, and so they were forced to shuffle along as a pair of soldiers advanced behind them, forcing them towards the platform. The prince walked in silence. He knew it was no good protesting his innocence. Despite his undignified shuffle, he moved with his head held high and his back ramrod straight. The other two were less dignified and more frantic, screaming of conspiracies and their innocence in the death of the King. Their pleas fell on deaf ears, and were answered with a volley of stones. The mob were immediatley forced back further by the soldiers. This was to be a proper execution, not a vigilante killing.

"But he promised that I'd be a Lieutenant!"

The cry was silenced by a rifle-butt blow to the back of the legs. The prisoner stumbled. And then finally, they were atop the stage. The masked executioner stood there waiting, as did another man. He announced calmly to the crowd what they had done.

"The condemned are the Crown Prince Saud bin Abdul Aziz, who did treacherously murder the King, his own father, and the King's guards, Yusuf bin-Jeddah and Abdul al-Hejaz, for their part in the assassination. They took bribes in exchange for their compliance, but they in turn betrayed the killer after the deed had been done. This does, however, not excuse them from death. All three will be executed by beheading. Let their souls never find rest."

The crowd roared in approval as the executioner stepped forwards, blade clasped in a two-handed grip. He swung once, twice, three times, and the heads of all three thudded to the wooden floor. Three bodies slumped forwards, three jets of arterial blood drenched the stage. The crowd surged forwards, only to be repelled by the soldiers.

The period of mourning for the King would now begin, and would last for a week before a new King was declared. Muhammad was naturally first in line, his only elder brother had been executed along with the only two people who could confirm his innocence.

ooc: To still be continued. You can reply! The death of the King is public knowledge!

The horse-drawn cart turned up the main street. Each horse was midnight-black, groomed to perfection. The cart too was black, the wheels banded with gold. A Saudi Arabian flag was hung across the back. The centrepiece of all this finery, though, was modest in its appearance. A plain wooden coffin, the lid open to reveal the late King. His eyes had been shut, his gunshot wound covered by one hand. He was dressed simply in a plain white robe and headscarf. He looked strangely peaceful for someone who had been shot through the heart by his own son. The undertaker had been skilled.

Ahead of the cart walked a group of family members, mostly the King's sons but also the occasional cousin. They walked in silence, not looking at the mourning crowds on either side. They had been joined by the Ayatollah, a shrewd man who some said spent too much time tangled in politics and not enough in prayer. At the head was Muhammad, his face solemn. He lead the procession at a steady pace, never once glancing back.

Behind the coffin was a more colourful procession. A full battalion of soldiers marched five abreast, platoon by platoon, standards fluttering in the wind, each followed by a half-track bearing banners and trophies taken in battle. The King had been known as a great soldier, and indeed it was him who had unified Saudi Arabia by military force.

Mourners lined the sides of the street, waving flags and shouting slogans. Like at the execution, they tried to get as close as possible to the coffin, but this time the atmosphere was more positive.

After the pomp of the procession, the burial was a simple affair. The grave was unmarked, the coffin simply lowered into a hole in the desert. Gone were the cheering hordes, this was an affair solely for close relatives. And so the reign of King Abdul Aziz al-Saud came to an end in an unmarked desert grave. Muhammad looked back once, then climbed into the car.

Dear King Muhammad of Saudi Arabia,

Let me be the first to give my condolances to the pain your people must be feeling, the loss of a king hurts like nothing else.

On a happier note, I would like to congradulate you on aprehending the murderers, and your future coronation as king. Let your reign be as sucessful as that of your father.

Regarding business between our nations. We would like to continue oil imports, possible even increase the shipments, we hope that oil prices will not be effected by the most unfortunate tragedy that has befallen your people.

Sincerely,
General Francisco Franco
Dictator of Spain

The brother took the throne and increased security around himself so his little brother could not try to assasinate him. The new king always wore a kevlar vest when in public and had a sawn off AK-74 in his robe

Dear General Franco,

I am most grateful for your condolences. This is indeed a sad time for the entire nation of Saudi Arabia, and I am gladdened to see that we have your sympathy in our time of need.

Although it has not yet been officially announced yet, I would like to take this opportunity to invite you to my coronation, in a week's time.

It is also good to see that your mix your humanity with practicality and solid business sense. While oil production may drop for the duration of the mourning, I will see to it personally that prices do not rise. Rest assured that trade shall continue as normal. We would also be only too happy to increase shipments by a reasonable amount.

Sincerely,
Crown Prince Mohammed bin Abdul Aziz al-Saud

ooc: Creitz, first, don't decide my actions for me, second, until I see that you are a member of Earth 1946 please stay out of this thread.

Dear Crown Prince Mohammed bin Abdul Aziz al-Saud,

It would be an honor to attend the coronation, unfortunatly I will be forced to limit my stay due to the war in Europe, which seems to intensify with each passing day, and threatens to engulf the whole of the continent in this brutal struggle. I will leave tomarrow, and hopefully arrive the day before the coronation.

Sincerely,
General Francisco Franco

Honoured leaders of the world,

You will probably have heard recently of the death of my father, the King, murdered by my treacherous elder brother, who has since been executed. This tragedy has left Saudi Arabia leaderless, and as the eldest surviving son, I am due to be crowned in exactly two weeks. I warmly invite you and your families to attend the coronation. Our ports will be open to vessels, and our recently constructed airport at Riyadh is ready to recieve passenger aeroplanes.

The issue of security is one which I am sure you will worry about in the wake of the terrible crime recently committed. I assure you that this is being looked after, and you will be in no danger within our borders. I therefore ask that you each bring no more than four bodyguards, due to seating constraints.

Sincerely,
Crown Prince Mohammed bin Abdul Aziz al-Saud

ooc: Two weeks basically means whenever I get enough people.

ooc: Meh. No-one wants to come to the coronation. Just assume hes been crowned, its easier that way.