The man closes the door and walks toward the fireplace, his cane clicks on the floor as he uses it to balance himself on his unsteady gate. He eyes Malureon and nods, “Indeed. I wondered how long it’d take ‘til you found me.” He waves a gnarled hand dismissively at Malureon’s offer of a drink.
“Suit yourself,” Malureon takes a seat and extends his legs out in front of him, crossing his feet at the ankles, displaying a clear picture that he is at his leisure. He motions to the second chair, “Sit.”
Uhtrric eyes flick to the vacant seat and he shakes his head, “I’ll stand, if you do not mind.” He rests one hand on the mantle and leans his weight on the cane. He shifts his weight to his good leg, taking the pressure off his bad leg so to not show this dark man his weakness. Uhtrric studies Malureon’s face and makes note of the scar running over Malureon’s right eyebrow, curious as to how he acquired that feature. He can see that this man is not to be trusted, there is pure malice in those icy blue eyes, despite the cordial smile on his face.
Malureon takes a long pull from his whiskey glass and studies Uhtrric for a moment. Finally, he sucks air in through his teeth and tsks, “Come now, Uhtrric we both know you would be more comfortable in a chair.” He motions again toward the empty chair next to him, the whiskey sloshes in the glass as he does so, “… and we both know, this will take longer than that leg of yours can handle.” He grins as he swallows another mouthful of the whiskey.
Uhtrric swallows audibly and frowns, “Enough with the pleasantries. What do you want from me?” He shifts slightly, his good leg is screaming for rest, but he remains standing and bites back a groan.
A flash of irritation crosses Malureon’s face but is quickly replaced with his usual stoic demeanor. He drains the last of the whiskey in his glass and pours another generous amount for himself, “You certain you don’t want any of this fine whiskey?” His blue eyes meet the older man’s gaze as he wraps his long fingers around the glass. When Uhtrric does not answer he leans back into his chair, settling in. He lets the silent tension in the room build as several long minutes pass, the only sound comes from the occasional crackle and pop from the fire burning in the hearth. Malureon grins when he sees small beads of sweat forming along Uhtrric’s hairline, he says nothing and takes another sip of his drink. He is in no hurry, and is content to sip his drink and let time loosen Uhtrric’s tongue.
*Stay Tuned for Part 3*
