Two Cats

Chapter 20

Yeah. Of freaking course.

The unreality of the situation hit me nearly as quickly as my own anger over having overlooked yet another crucial fact, a detail that did not seem quite important enough to notice until this very minute.

Someone had to break into Tucat Keep originally ... and one does not do that without detailed planning, information, and skill. Perhaps I'd figured Redforne had simply hired someone to get the job done, but it was now quite obvious who had broken into my keep, avoided my carefully laden traps and security devices.

I was looking at him.

Well, crap.

He was now garbed in a much more stylish outfit of almost entirely black save for some red piping and embroidery here and there, clothing that was obviously much more suited for his trim physique than his previous tunic had been. He was exuding the same sleepy confidence he'd displayed during his match at the Circles.

I looked from him back to the smoldering door, which was still popping merrily and giving off a smoky odor that fell just shy of being pleasant. It was quite ruined, and would be impossible for me to open on this side - the hinges had been fused together and no longer moved. It was a big, heavy door, specifically designed to keep very determined people out of my exercise hall.

Now it appeared to be keeping people in, rather than out.

And Redforne was enjoying this moment, I could tell. He hadn't even risen from his cross-legged position on the floor. The torches he'd doused made it dim enough that I wouldn't notice him upon entering the room ... not that I'd stood any chance of noticing him with everything going on in my head.

My stomach dropped for what seemed like the twentieth time that day. I cursed my oversight, fate, everything I could think of. I'd assumed he had no backup plan, that all of his hopes had been pinned on one shining moment of glory at the Circles.

This development had been so obvious that it was a wonder Theo hadn't spotted it. No subtle elegance, not a spot of complexity or single trace of intricate planning. Straight-forward and to the point – trap me in a room and kill me. Simple, effective...

I turned away from the door a final time while keeping my features as placid as circumstances would allow, facing the smiling young Lord who was watching my every expression with smirking glee. Doubtless he would expect me to plead with him, knowing I was by far the inferior swordsman. Doubtless he'd been imagining my reactions ever since he'd arrived in my keep, thoughts full of revenge for the thwarted attempt at achieving glory.

I wouldn't give the bastard the satisfaction, I decided. Even as the complete desperation of my circumstances became apparent, I knew ... I wouldn't beg for mercy, wouldn't plead for my life.

Screw that.

I'd do what the most powerful man in Harael said I was best at.

I'd annoy him.

And there's probably nothing quite as annoying as being completely and utterly out-cooled when you're the one holding all the cards.

“I say,” I sniffed, affecting a look of slight dismay, “that door does look to be in terrible shape all of a sudden. Damnably in-convenient, and I suppose I must apologize for the smell. Terribly sorry. Would you care for some wine?”

His smile lost a great deal of intensity, and I saw his head tilt slightly to the side. Whatever reaction he’d been expecting, that certainly wasn’t it.

“That door,” I continued, nodding behind me as I walked over to the drinks cabinet, “was made from four different types of wood. At least that's what I was told when I had it made ... what do I know about wood, hey? Still, I was charged an arm and a leg for it, and I'm not even certain the craftsman who made it is still around. Tish and tosh, such a bother. Sorry, I didn't hear - did you want wine or no? Don't get up, I'll fetch it for you. There's a quite nice Aquavit I've got back here, if caraway seed is more your thing...”