The Ardoon King Page 53

  Chapter 51: Sam’s Intervention

  The midday meal consisted of crackers drenched in something that Sam had decided was either coagulated gravy or muddy water. Tasting the foul dish did not resolve the mystery. He swallowed the meager offering without chewing and hoped it would stay down.

  He looked at Thal, who hadn’t moved a muscle the entire meal. She just sat there, her hands in her lap, her head perpetually dipped toward the table. She hadn’t spoken a word. She hadn’t spoken in two days, in fact. Or eaten.

  Sam said, “You should eat, Thal. I know it’s nasty, but it’s calories.”

  “She’s not feeling well,” said Fiela, sitting across from him. She’d already finished her meal and was now sipping warm water flavored with a menthol cough drop.

  “I can see that,” said Sam in a tone that was less than friendly. He looked back at the woman. “What happened to your face, Thal?”

  “She fell,” answered Fiela.

  “I didn’t ask you.”

  “She’s got a sore throat. It hurts her to talk.”

  Sam glared at the queen. “She’s got a busted lip and bruises on both sides of her face, Fiela. That’s not from a fall.”

  “That’s what she told me,” replied the girl. She looked at Thal. “That is what you said, right? You fell?”

  Thal nodded and mumbled, “Yes, Annasa.”

  Fiela smirked. “See?”

  The old man glared at the girl. He said, “I’d like to speak to you, Fiela. Alone?”

  The girl shrugged. “Sure. Thal, go upstairs and wait for me. Make sure the fire’s going.”

  The woman nodded the slightest of nods and rose clumsily, almost knocking her chair over. “Sorry,” she mumbled, steadying herself on the table.

  Sam stood and grabbed hold of the woman, steadying her. “Honey, let me help you upstairs. You’re not fit to be walking on your own.”

  Fiela sighed melodramatically and yelled, “Peth!”

  Almost immediately a woman in black body armor appeared. “Annasa?”

  “Help Lady Thalassa to our room, please.” She looked at Sam and said, “Tell the other Peth that Sam and I do not wish to be disturbed for any reason.”

  “As you say, Annasa,” replied the guard, who moved to Thal’s side. Sam released the woman and watched as she was slowly escorted from the dining room. She seemed little more than a wraith.

  When she was gone, Sam sat down and said, “What in the name of God are you doing to that poor woman, Fiela?”

  “Nothing,” Fiela said. “She’s just sickly and frail.”

  Sam slammed the palm of a hand hard against the table, making the girl jump. It sounded like a clap of thunder. “She is not sickly and frail!” He yelled. “Or she didn’t use to be. She used to be a beautiful young woman. She used to be your best friend. Now…” He made disgusted sound and shook his head. “You’re tearing that woman apart.”

  Fiela didn’t say anything. Sam continued. “Fiela, it’s no secret what’s gone down here. I talk to the Peth. We’re all buddies now. They told me. You think Thal’s having an affair with Ben.”

  “She is having an affair with Ben.”

  “You got proof of that?”

  Fiela snickered. “Like photos? No. I don’t require them.”

  “Because you’re a queen and all that,” the man replied.

  “That’s right.”

  Sam huffed and leaned backwards, balancing his chair on two legs. “You’re no queen. You’re not even a woman. You’re just a spoiled brat. No, hell, you’re not even that. You’re more pathetic than that.”

  “Careful, Sam,” said the girl.

  The man chuckled and shook his head. “Or what? You going to beat me up to? You going to pummel an old man for calling you out? For telling you what a little monster you really are?”

  He let his chair fall forward. “Or are you going to torture me for a little while and then throw my body out in the snow? Who’s going to miss an old ‘Ardoon’ like me, right? Hell, you’d probably give yourself a medal, you being the queen an all. A medal for…oh, I don’t know. Courage, maybe? It’s takes a lot of courage to beat up an old man. Or a woman like Thal. A woman who can’t defend herself. A woman who probably wouldn’t even if she could.”

  Fiela glowered at the man. “Shut up, Sam.”

  “No. Uh-uh. I don’t take orders from the likes of you, little princess.”

  “Don’t call me that.”

  Sam reached into a shirt pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. He peered into it and muttered, “Last one.” He tapped the cigarette out into his hand and pulled a lighter from the same pocket. “I was saving this one for something special. They’re not making these anymore, you know.”

  Lighting the tip, he mumbled, “I figure this might be my last day breathing, so…” He inhaled. His eyes fluttered.

  “Screw it,” he said, exhaling. He pointed at the girl. “You can go to hell, little miss. Straight to hell. You’re the real bashmu. And you can forget all that nonsense about me marrying you and Ben. I wouldn’t wish you on my worst enemy. If there was any justice in this world, he’d have found Thal long before he found you.”

  “Shut up!” yelled Fiela, her lower lip trembling.

  “Sure, go ahead and cry, tough girl. You should. I’ve heard Thal’s screams, Fiela. How much crying does she do every day?” He shook his head. “She loved you, girl. I could see it. She really, really loved you. She’d have done anything for you. She takes care of you. You could have gone the rest of your life and never found another person who cared more about you than Thal did.”

  “Sam, please,” cried the girl, a tear appearing at the corner of one eye. “Please stop talking.”

  “You know what?” Sam blew a circle of smoke and watched it dance away. “I kind of hope that she did screw Ben. At least then he’d have enjoyed the love of a good woman for a little while.”

  Fiela stood abruptly, knocking her chair to the floor. “Shut up!”

  Sam chuckled and looked down the barrel of the Glock pointed at him. “Go ahead,” he said, waving his cigarette in the air. “Go ahead. Pull the trigger, Princess. If this is your ‘new world,’ I don’t want any part of it.”