9. Clash of Stone and Steel
Clash of Stone and Steel
Samhail
Bressen stood in front of his desk in his study as Samhail stepped through the portal after Cyra. The lord’s expression was easy and light, and for some reason, that piqued Samhail’s anger. His annoyance bubbled to the surface as he recalled he had a bone to pick with his friend.
“What the fuck are Surgeon and Serise doing here?” he growled at Bressen the second Cyra closed the portal behind them.
Bressen raised a brow, but Samhail didn’t care. Shame and anger had made him reckless.
Bressen looked at Cyra in question, obviously wondering if this is what she’d brought them there to talk about, but Cyra only shrugged.
“They’re here to help protect Cyra,” Bressen answered calmly.
“Why them?” Samhail snapped.
“The short answer is that I’m counting on the divine imperative to motivate them.”
That brought Samhail up short.
“You…you didn’t tell them about Cyra, did you?” he asked with quiet horror. “Do they know she’s…”
“A Hand of the Gods?” Bressen finished for him.
“No, I didn’t give your father or the twins any details.
I just assumed, or at least hoped, Surgeon and Serise would feel the same protectiveness toward Cyra that you did when you first met her, even if they didn’t understand why they felt it.
Given what happened with Jasper, I thought it might be good to strengthen Cyra’s protection.
Since gargoyles are already primed to protect her, and I happen to have a personal connection to a rather powerful gargoyle family, it seemed like the perfect solution. ”
Samhail was silent as he processed all that. “Why didn’t you ask me to do it?” he said finally.
He suspected the answer was obvious given the other news he was about to tell Bressen. Perhaps his friend no longer trusted him to spend so much time around his wife.
“I need you for other things I can’t ask Surgeon and Serise to do because they don’t know everything you know,” Bressen said.
“In other words,” Cyra said, “we didn’t want you stuck following me around on guard duty when there were other more important jobs you could be doing.”
Samhail’s gaze swung to hers. “There are few if any things I would consider more important than keeping you safe,” he said. “In another time, I’m sure it would’ve been considered one of the highest honors for a gargoyle to be named the personal protector of a Hand of the Gods.”
Cyra smiled warmly and blushed. “You’ll always be my first and fiercest protector,” she said, “and I have no doubt you’ll continue to fill that role whenever you’re around.”
Samhail refrained from pointing out Bressen was her fiercest protector, but he assumed she meant other than her husband.
“Neither Cyra nor I expect you to stop keeping her safe,” Bressen said.
“That will always be part of your job, but the reality remains that there are other things I need you to do, so I had to find others to help protect Cyra. More gargoyles seemed like the obvious choice. As you’ve said, she would’ve had a cadre of gargoyles protecting her in earlier times.
Well, consider the three of you to be her cadre. ”
“But Surgeon and Serise-,” Samhail started to argue.
“Answer to you,” Bressen cut in.
That brought him up short again. “What?”
“They’ve been told to obey any orders you give them,” Bressen said.
“They were less than happy about that,” Cyra added with amusement, “but they were told.”
The tightness in Samhail’s chest eased, not from their attempts to stroke his ego, but at the news he’d at least have some control over his siblings. It was true he couldn’t watch Cyra himself all the time, so the twins were the next best choice.
That didn’t mean he trusted them. They’d always had an unusual attachment to one another, an attachment he sometimes thought made their judgement suspect when they needed to consider others.
In his opinion, their over-dependence on each other also hindered them in battle, but perhaps he was biased. He was used to fighting on his own.
Still, the twins were a better choice than either of his two older siblings.
His eldest brother Soldier was a formidable warrior who wore his austerity like a suit of armor, but his temper was quick and extremely volatile when stirred.
Likewise, his older sister Sadira had a fondness for brutality that brought her just short of sadistic.
Had his father sent either Soldier or Sadira to protect Cyra, he would’ve made Bressen send them back.
The twins were odd and had their own special streak of madness, but he had to admit they were likely to keep Cyra safe, especially if they were answerable to him as Bressen promised.
“Did they actually agree to obey me?” Samhail asked, wanting to be sure before he relaxed.
“They did,” Bressen said. “Grudgingly, but they did. We made sure Cyra was in the room when I spoke with them about their duties, and I have a feeling they both felt the tug of the divine imperative. It would’ve been hard for them to refuse anything that helps her.”
Samhail mulled this over. He wasn’t thrilled to have his siblings here, but for Cyra’s sake he’d deal with it. Surgeon and Serise were warriors above all else, and if the divine imperative was driving them, there was little he could complain about.
“Are you satisfied?” Bressen asked him.
Samhail nodded. “For now.”
“So is that the important news you needed to discuss with me?” Bressen asked, glancing between Samhail and Cyra.
Samhail went rigid as the real reason they were here came back to him. “No,” he said reluctantly. “There’s something else. I suspect there may be a masque among us.”
Bressen’s face went serious. “Why do you think that?”
Samhail looked at Cyra, and she gave him an encouraging nod.
“I was in the great room the other day when Cyra came in, or someone I thought was Cyra,” Samhail said.
“She was acting…out of character. When I discussed it with Cyra today, she had no idea what I was talking about. The woman who looked like her said she’d come home from the vineyard to get something she forgot, but Cyra says she didn’t come home from the vineyard earlier this week. ”
Bressen looked between Samhail and his wife again. “There’s something you’re not telling me,” he said. “What did you mean when you said Cyra was acting out of character?”
“It’s not important,” Cyra said quickly.
Bressen looked between them. “It is if both of you are trying to avoid telling me what this woman did,” he said.
Samhail exchanged a resigned look with Cyra and pushed a deep breath out through his nose. He’d known they wouldn’t get away with leaving out the details.
“The woman was being very…aggressive,” Samhail offered.
When Bressen simply looked at him, he added, “She touched me. Intimately. She sat in my lap, and kissed me, and…” He stopped as he saw Bressen’s brows shoot up, and he realized he could’ve stopped at the kiss.
That would’ve been enough, but Bressen had caught the ‘and.’
“And what?” Bressen asked, an edge to his voice.
“Samhail stopped the woman before anything went too far,” Cyra cut in. “That’s all that matters.”
Bressen looked at his wife, and the two of them were silent for a long moment. Samhail knew they were having a mental argument, and it was one Cyra must’ve lost because Bressen’s head snapped back to him.
“So let me get this straight,” Bressen said. “A woman who looked like my wife tried to seduce you in the middle of the great room, and it didn’t occur to you to talk to either her or me about this sooner?”
Samhail heard the anger in his friend’s voice, and he didn’t blame Bressen one bit. He’d handled things as best he could in the moment, but he’d still let it go further than he should’ve.
As for trying to avoid Bressen and Cyra for the last few days, that had been nothing short of craven, and Bressen was right.
He should’ve come to one or both of them immediately.
At the very least, he should’ve listened to his instincts, which had told him there was something wrong with the way Cyra was acting.
Nemesis take him, he should’ve known.
“Well?” Bressen asked when Samhail didn’t say anything.
“Bressen,” Cyra said placatingly, but Samhail wasn’t going to let her fight this battle for him.
“I should’ve come to you sooner,” Samhail said. “I have no defensible reason for why I didn’t.”
“No, you don’t,” Bressen said, his voice rising. “And because you didn’t come to either of us, this masque has likely been walking around our home unchecked this whole time.”
Samhail inhaled sharply. It was only sinking in now that this woman, whoever she was, had been here for days, maybe even weeks, and she was probably still among them.
“You think she’s still here?” Cyra asked Bressen.
“Why wouldn’t she be?” he asked, his voice still sharp as he looked at Samhail.
“She was probably sent by Sandrian to spy on us. We never knew how Sandrian found out about the collar and rings we retrieved from The Stalwart. If he has a spy in the house, that would explain it. Fuck, the masque is probably the one who set off the wards the other night.”
Guilt twisted in Samhail’s gut, and he felt as though he might vomit for the first time in decades.
They’d had a spy living among them for the gods-only-knew how long, and he’d failed to report information that might’ve led them to learn this days earlier.
He swallowed down the bile that rose in his throat.
If something had happened to either Bressen or Cyra because he’d been too ashamed to come clean about what he’d allowed to happen, he never would’ve forgiven himself.
Cyra dropped into one of the chairs in front of the desk, her face ashen, and Samhail resisted the pull to go to her. Bressen was at her side in a second, and he knelt in front of her, speaking softly as his hand brushed along her cheek.