Read Online SGA - 14 - Death Game by Jo Graham - Free Book Online

my overlord.” Tolas looked at Jitrine, who stood beside a guardsman just inside the doorway. “In your opinion is it safe for these people to travel?”
    Jitrine looked reluctant. “I would prefer that Sheppard not travel with his head as it is, however if you mean for them to go by ship it will probably be well enough. He will have no reason to exert himself that way.”
    “By ship?” Teyla asked. “In the desert?”
    “There is a canal not far from here,” Tolas said. “You will go to Pelagia by barge, which I assure you is a very comfortable way to travel.” He lifted his head. “It is decided.”
    Teyla looked at John, but his mouth twisted as though he were not saying something else. “Fine,” he said. “We’ll go talk to the king.”
    ***
    At midmorning they sat beneath a red and white striped awning on a barge putting out from a massive stone dock. Overhead, the azure desert sky stretched uninterrupted. The green trees of the oasis behind them stood in stark contrast to the reds and golds of the desert, a thousand shades from ochre to palest yellow that shone almost silver in the hot sun. Even beneath an awning the sun beat down, and Teyla could see the sweat standing out on John’s brow even as they settled onto the bench that ran along the side of the ship, the western side where the shade was deep.
    “Are you all right?” she whispered.
    “Fine,” he said, but she thought that he looked pale beneath his tan and two days of stubble. It had only been a short walk to the barge, not something that he would even notice normally.
    The barge was long and broad beamed, the back of the barge filled with livestock on their way to market, their drovers and the lowest paying passengers, while midships there was a raised upper deck with a canopy where Tolas rested in comfort. Jitrine had come aboard with him, and once in a while they could see her go to the rail looking out, but could not speak to her without calling to her.
    John and Teyla were at the bow beneath an awning, four soldiers guarding them. Guests or prisoners? Somehow that continued to remain the question, and she voiced it in a low voice.
    John’s expression was cynical as he looked out over the desert. “Tolas doesn’t know what to do with us and he’s afraid to make a decision, so he’s kicking it upstairs. Thinks it’s above his pay grade or something. So he’s punting.”
    “Perhaps he doesn’t have the authority,” Teyla said. “That is what Jitrine indicated.”
    “He’s not sure whether we’re good or not. If we’re telling the truth and we can get the gate open, we’re worth something and he wants the credit. If we’re full of it, then he doesn’t look like we duped him.” John shrugged. “It’s like our gear. They’ve left the pistol, but kept the packs and other stuff. They grabbed what they could without an actual fight. This way they can give it back if they want to make friends, or not of they don’t.” He lifted his hand to his eyes, shading them. “Pretty typical BS from the kind of cautious mid-grade who’s always watching his ass.” Lines at the corners of his eyes crinkled as he squinted against the bright reflection of sun on sand.
    “You could put your sunglasses on,” Teyla observed.
    “Right.” For a second he looked blank, then reached in his pocket.
    “Still having trouble with memory?” she asked.
    “I’m good,” John said, slipping the glasses on. Wearing them his expression became inscrutable.
    She looked out over the rail. “You know, it is not helpful to obscure from me your actual condition. We must work together, and I cannot do that effectively if I misread the extent of your injuries.” Teyla glanced sideways at him. “It does not make you look tough. It only makes my job harder.”
    His face stilled. “Right. Sorry.”
    A furnace breeze blew across them from the desert, a blast of hot air that did nothing to cool them.
    “How hot do you suppose it gets here?” Teyla