Worldbuilding Prompt #1079 - The Curse of The Throne

This post was inspired by a writing prompt in the Worldbuilding Community - Worldbuilding Prompt #1079 - Stuck on the throne

Enjoy !

Agwilon's spear made a hideous sucking sound as he pulled it from King Criolos' corpse. Shoving the body off the throne with a cruel smile, he sat down in the great gilded chair to the applause of his bronze-armoured warriors. The Kingdom of Tarilis was his.

He was taking a swig from a third goblet of wine when his warriors dragged in the screaming woman. It was Callia, the dead king's wife. Her ears were bleeding where the victors had torn the gold earrings from her lobes. Her hair was a birdsnest, the golden diadem likewise stolen. Her fine dress and kirtle were torn and ragged, and a purple bruise was welling up on her left cheek. Seeing the mangled remains of her husband still lying on the palace floor like a bungle of discarded rags only caused her hysteria to redouble.

"Why do you bring me this middle-aged hag ?" Agwilon asked irritably. "Just take her away and kill her. I want no survivors for the wretches to rally around, and no chance of children who can claim to be pretenders to my throne."

"Sire, are you sure ? She is not just the former queen, she is the high priestess of Potnia."

The warriors might be men of bronze and blood, but superstition was embedded deep in their bones. Priestesses were sacrosanct, everyone knew that. Killing one was taboo. Even the harm they had already done was a risk.

Agwilon reached back for the spear propped against his throne.

"Then I'll do it myself, you superstitious dogs !" he roared in drunken wrath, hurling the spear into her unprotected body.

His drunkenness betrayed him. It was a death blow, but not an instant one. She had time to die, and used it to the best of her ability.

"I curse you, robber-usurper ! You have murdered my husband and murdered me, and you have stolen the Kingdom of Tarilis. By Potnia's power, with my dying breath I bind you to that throne you coveted so dearly. May you never rise from it again ! May your remaining days be filled with suffering, and your bones merge with that damned chair to serve as a warning for all time !"

Agwilon laughed, but his face took on an expression of confusion, then dread, as he realised that he couldn't rise from the golden throne. The curse had worked already !

Well, he could survive this. He would summon wizards and priests of his own to break it.

It only took a day to realise that they would never arrive in time. It took him a fortnight to die in agony.

"So what have we uncovered, Professor Phillips ?"

Phillips removed his spectacles and put aside the brush he was using to sweep away the dust of aeons. Their archaeological expedition to the ruins of Tarilis was unearthing treasures beyond expectation, and their paper at the end of it, not to mention the museum tour with their exhibits was sure to be a sensation.

Phillips looked up at his sponsor with a perplexed grin.

"I'm not sure, but I think we may have discovered something that links to the legend of Agwilon the Conqueror."

He tapped the golden embossed plates that still glinted on the throne.

"We already knew a four thousand year old golden throne would be the centrepiece of our exhibition. But now I've cleared away the front, I do believe we may have something to really draw the crowds. Remember the legend said Agwilon was cursed to be stuck to the throne ? Look at this skeleton, and how the spine is fused to the back of the throne. But now look how the pelvis is fused to it's base."

He tapped the pelvis with his brush. "The legend says he died a short time after being bound to the throne. With this posture, his arsehole would have been totally blocked, sealed up even, by the throne. How long would it take for constipation to kill him ? Think of the pain. He was literally dying for a shit."