Chapter 3 a Betrayal

Iggy unhinged his arm out of Emi's hold and took a step away, but Baine stood between them and the exit. A large fuzzy shadow, menacing and intimidating regardless of his lack of edges.

Nansen stood from his chair with his chin hanging low. As he came closer, he inhaled a full breath and recomposed himself. “Baine, how can I help?” he asked cheerily.

Baine narrowed his sights. “Can I trust you?”

Nansen plastered on an artificial smile and winked. “As always.”

“Take them to the kitchen for their last meal. Keep them together and don't let either of them out of your sight.” Baine flicked the top of Iggy's head. “Especially this one.”

“You got it,” Nansen chuckled. He opened his arms, and with one arm around each of their shoulders, he pushed them toward the exit.

Iggy’s shoulders rattled under his weight. He watched the outlines of their feet walking forward like pendulums. “You’re not going to listen to him, are you?” he whispered. The nausea returned and he wrapped an arm around his upper stomach. “I feel sick.”

Nansen glanced back over his shoulder. “Shut up,” he surprisingly snarled. “You’ll get me in trouble by saying that crap. Implying that I wouldn’t obey his orders? That’s what we call `treason’.”

Iggy lifted his chin. “That’s not what I-”

“The decisions being made are too serious for us to play games against one another. An order is an order, and I intend to follow it through to the very end…. Even if I don’t-”

“Nansen,” Iggy gasped his name. “I don’t want anything to happen to you… and I thought that you wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to me, either.” Wetness gathered in his eyes and he lowered his face to hide it.

Nansen groaned and gave Iggy’s shoulders a little squeeze. “You make everything so difficult, kid.”

Pots, pans, and dishes clanked and a warm smell of tomato sauce and bread filled the air in the kitchen. A small group raced in circles around a square table in the dining room that was set for two. Each place had a large plate, shiny silverware, and a crystal wine glass- things that Iggy had never used or even seen before. The cooks covered their mouths and noses with perfumed handkerchiefs and followed cookbooks to the smallest ingredient. The ingredients were shuttled in the day before in secret preparation for the last meal.

Emi inhaled a thick cloud of the delicious aroma. “I’m so hungry,” she declared. She detached herself from Nansen and Iggy and sat down in her wooden chair without any direction. With each hand hovering over an array of silverware, her smile grew so big that it forced her eyes shut. “This is going to be the best meal of my life!”

Iggy was not so attuned to the situation, nor was he at all accepting of it. Nansen tugged him to his chair and shoved him down into it. Nansen and Baine were pretty much always rougher than they needed to be. Cold hearted, too.

A man approached the table with a small canteen and poured a tablespoon of red wine into the tiny crystal glasses. That was it. Emi picked up her glass and took a miniscule sip, raising it in Iggy’s direction before swallowing. It was already half gone.

Then, a woman came to the table with a saucepan in her hand and she served a beautiful collection of vegetables smothered in tomato sauce with a sliver of bread. Emi couldn’t wait for the pour to end before she grabbed her fork and stabbed into it. Chewing on the first mouthful, she bellowed in laughter. “Oh, how wonderful! I never got this kind of food at home!”

The woman quickly replied, “only the best for you, dear heiress.” The woman winked flirtatiously then tilted her head downward to look directly into Emi’s eyes. Her mouth moved behind the handkerchief. “Are you excited? You seem so.”

A few pieces of food fell through Emi’s lips. “Nervous, but it’s for the best.”

The woman gestured as if she had smacked a fly out of the air. “It’s like giving birth, my dear.” She stirred the vegetables with the spoon in the saucepan and strolled around to Iggy’s side of the table. “It hurts, but it’s well worth it.” Leaning over, she covered his plate, then stood upright. She paused and winked at him, too, before she turned and walked away.

Emi put another large forkful into her mouth. She chewed quickly, moaning between each savory bite. Then, she paused, picked up her glass of wine and washed down her throat with less than a thimble full. She pointed at Iggy’s untouched plate with the tips of her fork. “Iggy, eat. You’ll need the energy.”

Iggy stared down at his plate, not knowing what was there for sure. A ball swelled up inside of his throat. Eating was the last thing he wanted to do. Like a spontaneous tornado he swung his palm and chucked his full plate of food across the room and he backhanded the wine onto the carpet.

“Oh come on!” Emi protested. “This is the best food I have ever had!”

“Mind your own fucking business!” Iggy hollered. He stabbed his elbows against the tabletop and buried his forehead into his hand. He wanted to run. He didn’t want what was going to happen, happen. He looked up at her uselessly. It still stung.

Emi’s chewing slowed.

“You said, ‘or else we’re dead!’” he quoted.

“It’s true…”

“Listen to yourself!” He jerked his hands toward her direction, wishing to hit her more than anything. “You made the decision to kill yourself and what’s worse is you’ve made that decision for me, too! This is all of your goddamn fault!” Since he couldn’t reach her, he crashed both fists against the table. The fury made him tolerant to pain, for his left wrist would’ve given him problems if he hadn’t been drunk with madness.

She stopped eating and looked straight into his face. “You know why, though.”

“No, I don’t!” He grinded his teeth. “I don’t know you and I don’t want anything to do with this!”