Chapter 29: 29_Cold shoulder

The venomous bite of his words had tears springing to her eyes, tension gripping her chest until it felt like she’d soon collapse. “I make you sick? Me? Who’s the one ruining people’s lives just because they’re wealthier than him? Perhaps you could find a more noble profession and leave people alone! I’ve gotten to know the men. Frank and Harald and Jonno and the others…”

Her lips trembled like she was holding back sobs. “They’re such amazing people. All so sweet and funny, not a single one has treated me inappropriately or hurt me. Why would you make such nice people your henchmen? Harald’s only nineteen and you’ve dragged him into a life of sin, you criminal!”

“Criminal? I’m a criminal?” He scoffed, stretching open his arms. “Fine. I’ll be the criminal, I’ll be the bad guy, I’ll be whatever fucked up villain you’ve imagined me to be in that pretty little head. But what I won’t be is inferior to the likes of you! I won’t stop until every single bastard who’s sinned against the Barbarians is brought to justice.”

“That is twisted justice, true justice can’t be carried out in a manner that hurts more innocent people—”

“I am restoring my people and to hell with the rest!” he shouted, watching her jolt. He didn’t care if he frightened her, she’d reached the very end of his patience. “You’ve got the ever-fucking audacity to say you were wrong to see me differently, well, I was just as wrong about you! You’re every bit the spoiled, pampered, sheltered little brat I first pegged you to be.”

Her mouth opened, the tears that had pricked her eyes now pooling on her bottom lid. “I’m not—"

“Yes, you are!” he muttered through clenched teeth. “Are you your father’s daughter? You’re defending him so viciously, you must think just like him!” He narrowed his eyes at her, cruel anger sharpening the glare as he came closer. “Tell me, poppet. If I gave you a sword and a servant… would you drive the blade through his belly?”

Horror widened her eyes. “Ex… excuse m—”

“Would you cut him so heartlessly, disfigure him so cruelly that not even his own mother could recognize him?”

“No!”

“Yes, you would, if you’re just like your father.”

Her trembling had gotten worse, her feet stepping away the closer he came. “Neither I nor my father would ever do anything l-like that—”

“Rubbish. Come on, *prencessi,* we both know your people thrive on this shit.”

The dark expression on his face gave him a frightening appearance that crippled her with terror.

“Why, your father would certainly leap at the chance!” His hair was coming out of its metal cuff, falling over his eyes to make his rage even scarier. “That bastard you call a king, his name is written on my dagger and I will not rest until I’ve coated it with his blood.” Looking at the frozen horror on her face, he scoffed, smirking cruelly. “Harald. Frank. You think you know them? Just because you’ve had a couple drinks and sang a song ‘round a fuckin’ fire? Nay, poppet. You haven’t got a fuckin’ clue.”

He made a sound that could’ve been a scoff or a laugh, baring his teeth in a snarl. “Every single one of my men has a horror story to tell you. Every single one of them has scars.”

She managed to swallow for the first time since he’d roared at her. “Ev…. Everyone h-has scars.”

His head tilted, the stormy grey of his iris peering at her through his black hair. She thought her scars and their scars were comparable? He scoffed. “I’m curious. Just what scars do you have? Have you even got scars? Have you tasted death? Held hands with it and felt its icy fingers wrap tightly around you. Have you ever gone through hell, made to choose one to kill between your two elderly parents? Have you ever had to kill someone you loved because they were near fucking dead and in too much pain?”

It was pouring out before he could stop it, her eyes widening with horror the more he spoke.

He couldn’t stop. “Have you ever heard children scream at the top of their lungs as they watched their mother get gutted like a damned fowl, watched their father take four swords in the belly to spare their lives? Only for his killers to turn on them once he was dead. Tell me, prencessi, since you have scars like ours. Have you ever been stuck inside your own home, preyed upon by bastards who considered you nothing more than an animal on their hunting trip? Bodies, upon bodies, upon bodies… death *everywhere.”*

His questions painted pictures so grotesque, she felt bile come up her throat. He saw her expression and his twisted with scorn.

“Don’t you ever pretend to understand what we are or what we went through to become this way. Keep your righteousness for your own kind and, as for us, as for the Barbarians, we will get our justice even if we have to become sinners along the way.”

She stared at him in silent disbelief, her mind reeling from everything he’d just said. She had no idea what any of it meant but still felt sick at the imagery it painted. What on earth had they gone through? He couldn’t mean to say her father had to do with it. Surely not…

“Steel.”

The atmosphere shattered like frail glass and they both turned around.

Gunnar stood at the entrance of the dome, looking in at Thoran.

Thoran turned to face him, ignoring her. “Gunn.”

Shaking his head, Gunnar looked rightly pissed. “We need to go. Right now, there’s no time.”

The urgency in his voice didn’t escape Thoran and, without wasting a moment more, he marched to the exit.

“Wait!” Amethyst called. “I don’t understand. Do you mean my father had to do with it?”

Thoran stopped but didn’t turn around. Sighing, he glanced at Gunn. “Bring her.”

With a nod, Gunnar looked at Amethyst. “Let’s go.”

Speechless, she watched Thoran walk away, leaving the cave. Her entire heart was clenching, disturbed by the things he’d said. How could he just walk away without finishing what he had to say? If her father had been included in some shifty business, she would not leave this place until she uncovered everything.

“May I… get some time to properly dress, please?”

“Ah.” With a nod, he marched out, giving her some time.

She emptied the sack of clothing, breathing deeply to calm herself. She was so confused. She was here to protect her kingdom but was starting to feel just as clueless as Thoran had accused her of being. Her very presence here was defending the king, Amethyst couldn’t do that if the old man had done and hidden cruel things. Her fingers trembled, proof of how shaken Thoran’s words had left her. King Kendrick wasn’t a great person or king, but she had never seen him as horrid enough to be involved with such.

It didn’t matter. If she found him to be guilty… Her eyes filled with tears, the image Thoran had painted of screaming children filling her head.

Oh, God, if she found her father to be guilty, she would not be able to stop Thoran’s plans for Gadon. She would have no right to do so.

He would get his justice and her kingdom would be ruined.

********

They reached the camp a while after Thoran and, by the time she and Gunnar were riding in, all the men were marching about, packing up.

Amie’s gaze frantically searched the camp, looking for him but she couldn’t spot him.

“You’re back!” a cheerful voice said.

Glancing up as Gunnar lowered her to the ground, she watched Frank approach. “Hi, Frank. Thank you, Gunnar.”

“No worries,” Gunn said politely before handing the horse reins to another guy and marching off into the camp.

“How was your bath?” Frank asked pleasantly, holding a thick bunch of ladles. He’d clearly been in the middle of packing up his little kitchen.

“Lovely, thank you. Except the snake, but more importantly…” She glanced back at the busy camp. “What’s going on? Why are we packing?”

“Ah, we’ve a tail on us,” Frank said irately.

“Amie's back.” Harald popped up out of nowhere, grinning at her. “Aye, you’re fairer than ten thousands, my lady. Sparklin’ like a jewel.”

Giving him a weak smile, she thanked him. She didn’t feel like a jewel in the giant white shirt and black trousers, but that was the least of her worries.

“Don’t worry about it,” Harald went on to say. “We always move when our locations get out.”

“Or when we hear someone’s out for us,” added Frank. “We’d stay to fight but Steel’s got himself a rule to not risk our lives.”

“He has no faith in us!” Harald said in offence. “Strongest pirates of the seas, we can take on anyone!”

“We’re not pirates, you bloody muppet, we’re Barbs!”

Amie interrupted their banter. “Okay, but which one is it this time? A tail or someone out for you?”

“Both,” said Harald, casually stretching. “We’ve got a bunch of frilly-necked royals asking about us back at the inn. They’re probably close to finding this spot too.”

That instantly had Amie's eyes widening. “Royals?”

She frowned, glancing toward Thoran’s tent as Frank and Harald muttered irately about the meddling royals. Why, those had to be her sisters, not so? She had to talk to Thoran, there was no need to move if it was only Natalia and the others.

“Anyways, miss…” Frank trailed off, glancing at her only to see that she was already halfway across the camp. “Miss Amie?”

“Oh, she’s off to argue with Steel again, i’n’t she?” Harald said, grinning. “Braver than any Barb, she is.”

Frank scoffed with a wry smile. “Aye. That, she is.”