Sir Hanush looked up at the sign hanging outside the Devil's Den, wrinkling his nose in disgust. It was hard to believe this was the place his nephew was choosing to spend his days before his wedding duties called him back to Rattay.
He waited impatiently for said nephew at one of the filthy tables outside, ordering the finest wine from the terse owner. The rowdy patrons laughed and swilled ale, slamming tankards together, swearing and shoving each other. Sir Hanush was reminded of the first time he'd broken up Hans' fight with Henry. Perhaps this was why he liked the place so much.
"Uncle," Hans said with a less than pleased sigh, joining Hanush at the table and sitting opposite. Henry was at his side as usual; he at least greeted him as befit, with a nice courteous bow, before sitting beside Hans, "what brings you here?"
"Well, it's nice to see you, too," Hanush sipped on his wine, grimacing at the taste, "I shan't be staying. I'm just passing through on my way back to Rattay," he pointedly eyed Hans, clearing his throat, "speaking of which-"
"No chance," the young lord folded his arms adamantly, shaking his head, "I'm not going anywhere until I absolutely have to. And, even then, I won't go quietly."
Hanush sighed, rubbing his forehead and Henry was beginning to wonder if he should leave. He didn't want to be in the middle of a family drama, especially since he'd agreed to be the one to drag his secret lover to the altar if necessary.
"What the devil is keeping you here of all places?"
"Oh, it isn't so bad," Hans waved a hand dismissively, looking around the inn's exterior, "sure, it could be bigger and the patrons may not be reputable. But there is plenty to keep us entertained," he glanced at Henry, nudging him playfully, "besides, Henry and I spend most of our time at swordplay. Don't we, Henry?"
"Aye," Henry nodded, chuckling to himself as he patted Hans on the shoulder, "we've gotten quite skilled. I'm certainly enjoying our sessions."
"We can go for hours," Hans said cheerfully. He was beginning to enjoy his uncle's visit, particularly the blank look on his face as he looked between them. He continued, resting his hand on Henry's knee, "Henry is so rigorous, I'm sore for hours afterwards. Sometimes days."
"And Sir Hans is a formidable opponent," Henry smirked, reaching for his own ale, "he's such a skilled teacher I've spent more time on my back than on my feet."
Hanush stared at each of them with a frown on his face. After a long pause, he drained his wine and slammed the cup onto the table.
"Well, if you insist. I'll take my leave," he stood from the bench, brushing down his clothes. He gave his nephew an awkward shoulder pat, nodding once, "I'll send for you when the preparations are complete."
Hanush climbed into his wagon, watching the two youngsters as his carriage pulled away. Hans and Henry were as inseparable as ever, laughing together and wandering back into the inn side by side. Hanush couldn't help but smile, pleased that his nephew had such a good friend in young Henry.
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