Predators

«You are early,» the woman said, her long, well-manicured finger trailing along the edge of the table. The silhouetted figure in the doorway only shrugged, the faintest hint of a smile on his lips, but the way her finger had paused ever so slightly as he appeared in the doorway had not passed him by.

Nonetheless, she did not even deign to spare him a glance; instead her eyes looked towards the window and the dark night beyond it. The man in the doorway pushed away from the doorframe he had been leaning against, and she finally turned towards him. «I did not say you could enter,» she said in a calm voice laced with ice.

The man did not even blink, but executed a perfunctory bow. «I did not ask,» he said and smiled widely. His footsteps were silent against the polished floor as he moved to close the door, leaving the room in partial darkness. She tended to prefer it that way, in order to better see any unwanted visitors. Of course, it did not always work.

«Expecting unwanted company?» he asked, gesturing vaguely towards the open window. «A good archer could shoot through that, you know.»

«A good archer would nonetheless never make it past my guards,» she replied coldly.

«Unless he was also smart, in which case he would make sure to learn how to sneak past them. By the way, I learnt the funniest thing recently,» he added, picking up a bottle of wine and glancing at the label. «Some of your guards laboured under the delusion that it would be a good idea to try to kill me. I am aware that some might become overly attached to an employer of the opposite gender, but...»

«What did you do to them?» the woman asked.

«Care for some wine?» the man said and lifted the bottle towards her. She arched an eyebrow. «They did not even see me, so don't worry.»

«What did you do to them?» she repeated, her voice firmer, her full attention on him.

The man shrugged. «Nothing you would not have done.» He paused, glancing back at her. «Ah, that's the problem, isn't it? Not to worry, I found myself unwilling to be delayed, so they did not suffer.»

She stared at him for a moment, then tapped her own goblet. He nodded and carried the bottle to the table.

«Are you one of those old-fashioned men who think that because a woman has employees, they must be in love?»

«Tsk,» the man said. «We have known each other for so many years, and that is what you think? I am in no need of employing guards, as is very well known. However, I do have eyes, and ears, and I have overheard their conversations when they think nobody is listening. You should teach them to be more discreet.»

«More discreet?» the woman asked. «None other than you have ever found out I employ guards.»

«Well, except the families of the guards – »

«I told them not to breathe a word of it.»

«And yet it is immensely impressive how much a spouse can find out that her husband would never consciously reveal to a single soul.»

She shook her head and accepted the now full goblet he held out to her. «You never replied to my question, though,» she added. «And would you please close the window for me? However much it vexes me, you are right. Though you may have no need for employees, it would be just like you to hire a good archer, disable my guards and not even care enough to keep it secret for me.»

«Everything for an elegant lady,» the man said and bowed again. «But no, I am not one of those old-fashioned men you are talking about. Love always complicates things, don't you think?»

«Ah, terribly,» she replied and watched him close the window and secure it against the winds that without fail swept this part of town at night. She stared at his turned back for a few moments before taking a thoughtful sip of the wine. «Terribly complicating indeed.»

«I heard rumours you would be leaving the city?» she asked as he sat down by the table and took a long sip of the wine, eyes following his every move. He sighed and sat back into his chair.

«Unfortunately yes. My business here is done, and it is time to seek out new hunting ground where my face is less known.»

Her elegant, cold facade dropped for a second, and she snorted. «Hardly anybody in the city knows your face, though they all talk about you. The man in the shadows, they say. The sorcerer. You know, the things you do really seem like magic sometimes. It's ridiculous, I know, but...»

«A compliment? From you?» The man raised his eyebrows. «Nonetheless, I appreciate it. You have been an interesting adversary.»

«I hope you do not bear any grudges for the things I have done.» The woman sipped her wine almost daintily, and regarded him behind her long lashes.

«All water under the bridge,» the man said and waved it away.

«I would not have taken you prisoner had it not been absolutely necessary, and you know how protective my men can get...»

«Not to worry,» the man said and smiled. «It is after all terribly inconvenient to be on friendly terms with your adversary. But we all have to stand up for ourselves first, don't we? Cheers to the old times and let's hope for the best for the new ones,» he added, lifted his cup, and they both drank to that.

«Is that something you say in your home country?» she asked and narrowed her eyes slightly.

«Not particularly. I do think we should have a deep, sagely saying for gloating over one's adversaries, but alas. I should come up with one, don't you think? This one hardly seems fitting.»

The woman regarded him with a predatory, self-satisfied smirk and said nothing. The man glanced at her, fully aware she did not take the bait, but held his tongue and watched her with a curious expression. Gradually her confidence faltered, bit by bit, but it was only evident in the way her posture and expression became more stiff and forced.

The man sighed then, and glanced quickly down at his cup, letting the briefest hint of a frown appear on his forehead. Her confidence returned as he swirled the remaining contents of his cup and sniffed it carefully.

«I know you switched the cups, old friend,» she cooed as she emptied her own cup. «It was carefully arranged. I switched them back. As I said, I hope you do not bear any grudges.»

The smallest hint of a smile appeared on the man's lips, and her smile faltered. «I know,» he said lazily, and drained his own cup.

The silence that followed was deafening. The man savoured it, regarding her increasing confusion like a cat playing with its prey.

«But... When did you...»

«Did it never,» the man began and set his cup down for the first time since he started drinking, «occur to you to ask why I am called the Sorcerer?» He leaned back. «I must say. The poison leaves an exquisite aftertaste.»

He saw the woman glance at her own cup. «No, I did not switch them back. You would have noticed. Your eyes have never left me once since I filled the wine. Besides, a poison-wielder of your caliber, not noticing this poison? I know you tasted it first. No,» the man said and rose, «I do not bear grudges. I know when I am beaten. Unfortunately for you, I also know how to get hold of rare tasteless, odourless poisons and administer them by switching the cups. It is quite the clever contraption, my friend's mix. It does take a while before the effects set in, and it does take a while before it finishes, so to speak, but all the better to alleviate suspicion, right?»

«But...» Her face had gone pale.

«How did the poison not work on me? Remind yourself of my name,» he said and placed his chair carefully back by the table, «and figure out the rest.»

He walked out the door without looking back, and as he reached the stairs he heard the cup clatter to the ground as her fingers had begun to lose their strength. Shouts for her servants echoed through the house as he slipped easily out the ground floor window, but the slack, lifeless bodies in the hallway could offer no assistance.

The Sorcerer whistled a merry tune as he walked away into the maze of dark alleys.