The War of Six Crowns: The Vanished Knight

Confrontation

Darrion leaned back in the Waernich's chair, crossing his ankles on the desk. Darkness hid him. Little streams of muddy water ran down his boots and onto the expensive glossy wood. He waited, sword lying across his chest, his fingers tapping against the hilt.

The door opened and Darrion made out the Waernich's tall, athletic form before darkness filled the room once more. Footsteps approached across the stone floors. The Waernich dragged two things across his desk, so near that Darrion heard his breaths.

Still he waited.

The Waernich struck a flint and the candle lit, giving away Darrion's presence.

He staggered back with a hoarse cry. Darrion shot up from the desk and grabbed the Waernich's throat before slamming his body into a nearby wall.

"Hello, Ulric." He pressed his sword's tip to the Waernich's eyelid.

The man whimpered, holding his hands up. "Wh-what do you want?"

"Now that I'm here, I sort of want to kill you," Darrion said, his voice as quiet as usual.

The man cringed. "For the attempt on your life? I'm not the only one to try. Will you kill the Murion too?"

"Why did you send your nephews to kill me?"

"Because I want you dead?"

Darrion pressed on the sword tip until a drop of blood beaded on the metal. Ulric keened softly.

"You know, I used to think you were the smartest in the menagerie of fools we call the five families. Seems not."

"Fuck you."

Darrion rolled his eyes. "Oh, please. What are you trying to do? Hurt my feelings?"

"What do you want?" Ulric's voice shook.

"I want to know why you sent your nephews. All this time and you never left a link for me to track back to you. Now you sent me five. Why now?"

"Why not now?"

"Oh, I don't know," Darrion said. "The Knight vanished a week ago and you make a power move to take out your son's competitor. It got me thinking that you have something to do with the Knight's disappearance."

The Waernich stilled. He even stopped breathing.

"Yes?" Darrion asked. "Because—"

Ulric sagged against the wall. "No..." His voice cracked and moisture ran onto the hand Darrion held at his throat. "Quin's gone as well. He was assigned to lead the Knight's guard."

Darrion frowned, trying to take in this bit of information. "Then why the murder attempt?"

"Because I don't want you to be king! You'd wait for years and murder us all the night after your coronation."

Of course. It always came back to that. "I wouldn't be that pissed in the first place if you and your ilk just left me the fuck alone." Darrion sheathed his sword and released the Waernich.

Ulric clutched his throat, eyeing Darrion. "I'd...be open to allying myself with you. Against the Murion."

"Now? Why?"

Ulric shrugged and went to his desk.

"Stay where I can see you," Darrion commanded.

The Waernich halted and gave him a small smile. "You really don't trust me."

"Didn't survive this long by being the trusting sort."

The smile broadened. "You're wiser than I took you for. A lesser man would have killed me now and blamed the disappearance on me."

"I see." Darrion frowned, trying to find the right thing to say. "I'm sorry for your loss."

The Waernich shrugged. "I'm saddened by the end of my bloodline, but let's face it, Quin didn't have what it takes."

Another thing in a long string of reasons why Darrion never liked the Waernich. Ulric thought everyone beneath him. Even his own son. Even though Darrion despised Quin, he pitied him as well. Better to have no parents and no past than be one of the Westenmere whelps.

"I'll consider your offer," Darrion said and backed out of the room.

Think this scene is way too short? Don't worry. So do I. Which is why I have another, longer section up today as well. 

WAIT! Tell me what you think about the Waernich's offer? (And please remember to vote.)