Chapter 19

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Chapter 19


                “Derick, it has been a long time indeed.” The shock on the thin, small males face was almost comical. The thick moustache taking up the majority of his face, making his features seem smaller than they already were. He blinked and his greying bushy eyebrows seemed to reach for his receding hairline, the wrinkles becoming deep and deeper as they did so. His weathered and leathery hands writhed and wrung together before him. But his surprisingly strong voice held just the right amount of shocked outrage, Artair almost applauded his skills. The male really was the perfect trickster.


                “Artair Mackay, what the devil are you doing darkening my doorway at this god blasted time of the night?” Artair could not help but grin, and the wider his smile became the smaller the male before him seemed to become. “Are you not going to invite me in? Derick this surely is not how you treat an old acquaintance?”


                The male harrumphed before him, and stood aside, grumbling about the cold been too much for his old bones, and Highlanders would most definitely be the death of him. Shuffling before him, Derick swung a small lantern, highlighting tiny accents in the darkness of the hallway. A shabby room, which was much in need of a dusting, and new furniture was where Derick led him. Folding his arms Derick watched as Artair took a seat on a dipping bench seat and thought if he moved too much it may just snap under his weight.


                The scowl deepened and Derick really became the shrivelled fruit with a healthy fuzz of mould upon it. “The last time I saw you MacKay, you took every penny I had and laughed as you did it.”


                A deep sigh left him as he leaned back against the spongy wood. “Derick, are you still sore over that? You really should have stopped before it came to that point. You knew you were never going to win, not when I had won every other game that night.”


                “You cheated, you….you…” Derick could come up with no words, and so spat on the ground by his feet. Scrunching up his face at the act, all Artair could think was that he was glad he was not staying here long. “Derick, whether you like it or not, I won, and that is it. So you can either carry on with this vendetta, or you can give me some information, and I will give you some of what I took from you back.” He leaned forward a little. “And you won’t even have to play me for it.”


                Derick froze and minute, then grumbled some more under his breath, before dropping to a low chair beside him. “Good job I do not have to play you for it. I would never gain it back.” A hand rubbed over his face before Derick finally met his gaze. “What makes you think I have the information you wish to know?”

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