The Witch and The Thief

7

Drummond's nostrils flared, and he ground his teeth with such force, Lachlan thought they'd be reduced to dust when the old man was through.

"Pray tell, what did you wonder?" He seethed, his eyes flashing with an unholy light that threatened agonizing pain should he not appreciate the answer.

Choosing his words carefully, Lachlan slowly met the warlock's gaze and said, "If it came down to the two of you, who's more powerful?"

"In a wizard's duel?"

"If that's what you lads are calling it these days... " Lachlan half expected the warlock to strike him for his impudence.

"I am far more powerful, of course."

Drummond's tone left no doubt in Lachlan's mind that if his stooped body were capable, he would have straightened to his full height and puffed out his chest like an overly confident rooster.

Would it be considered arrogant to interpret that statement as 'bait taken'? Lachlan thought not. Now all he had to do was set the proverbial hook and reel him in. Clucking his tongue to suggest he doubted the truthfulness of Drummond's decree of dominance, Lachlan shook his head. "'Tis fair to say Nathair would disagree with you."

Drummond scoffed.

Lachlan studied him for a minute as a thought struck. "The two of you have dueled before..."

"Aye, I trounced the devil with ease. 'Tis no doubt it's taken him the last century to dare make his presence known after the thrashing he received at my hand."

Lachlan arched a brow, positive the man was lying through his teeth.

"I grow tired of your insolence," Drummond growled, raising an arthritic hand into the air. "Seems I must forgo the pleasure of flaying you alive and settle for a more mundane, if not equally painful, death."

"Why else would he send me to steal the Dragon Tooth?" Lachlan blurted out, not caring that his desperation to save his hide was apparent to any who heard him. "No matter how you look at it, his many attempts at attaining the stone prove he doesn't respect your superior power and feels you are no threat."

"You have a point." Drummond slowly lowered his hand to his side as his face settled into a thoughtful expression. "How do you suppose I rectify the situation and rid myself of his noxious presence?"

Lachlan swallowed. His heart raced with anxiety as he nervously held the warlock's gaze. Every nerve in his body told him to proceed with the utmost caution, as though he'd found himself in a den of slumbering dire wolves.

"Confront him, show him he's no match against you."

"Aye, 'tis a sound plan," Drummond murmured with a calculating look in his eyes. "Justice would indeed be served with both of your deaths at my hand."

"Both?" Lachlan choked out, swallowing convulsively. "'Tis a bit excessive since he's the one who bade me steal the stone in the first place. If not for him, I never would have stepped foot here."

"You are far from innocent in this, thief," Drummond sneered. He leveled a heated glare and leaned in close, hissing, "Do you believe me a naive fool?"

"What would have given you that idea?" Lachlan whispered weakly, bracing himself for a death strike at any moment.

"Your scheming ways have been apparent from the beginning. You aim to set me against Nathair, do you not?" Drummond asked with an imperious brow.

Lachlan bit back an expletive and tried to quickly think of how to get himself out of this mess he'd created. "If only because he's a thorn in your side. How many thieves have entered these walls in pursuit of the stone since its reappearance?"