32. Clash of Stone and Steel #2
Samhail tipped her head up further, and she almost moaned when his mouth brushed hers. She managed to swallow back the sound, but the next press of his mouth was more insistent, and his tongue slipped in to tease hers as she closed her eyes, letting herself enjoy the kiss.
She’d nearly let herself go completely when she felt the muscles in his body tense. His head snapped up, and a second later, the horses knickered.
Samhail stepped back from her just as the thwack of a crossbow split the air, and he grunted loudly as the bolt found its mark.
Samhail
Samhail’s shoulder kicked back as the shaft of a bolt suddenly appeared there, stuck in his hard leather armor.
The armor had stopped most of the bolt, but the tip broke through, and he felt the pinch of its sharp point scratch his skin.
If he hadn’t been so distracted by the woman in front of him, he’d have realized sooner they weren’t alone in the woods.
“Get behind me!” Samhail yelled as he pulled the bolt from his armor and shoved Talyn behind him.
He reached up to unsheathe his swords, but that’s when the second and third thwacks sounded.
Sharp pain stabbed his stomach and his side under his arm where the armor didn’t cover his body, and he jerked forward, instinctively curling inward to protect his torso from further harm.
He’d exposed the area when he reached up for the swords, and the enemy had taken advantage of his momentary vulnerability.
He staggered back against the nearest tree to brace against it.
“No!” Talyn cried, and then she was at his side, her hand on his chest.
Samhail had sustained plenty of wounds in battle, and ones like these normally wouldn’t have made the list of his top twenty worst injuries, but he felt instantly something was wrong.
The bolt stuck in his side was especially agonizing, having likely broken a rib on the way in, but more than that, he’d felt his power drain after they’d hit.
Caronium-tipped weapons were common in state-funded militaries, but it was odd for anyone else to have access to them given how regulated caronium was.
Samhail grabbed the shaft of the bolt under his arm to pull it out, but a voice halted him.
“Leave it, or the next bolt is to your head,” a man said as he emerged from the woods with a crossbow aimed straight at Samhail’s face.
Samhail froze as another fifteen or so men emerged from the trees now as well, two more with crossbows aimed at him.
“Who are you and what do you want?” Talyn asked the man. She stepped in front of Samhail, and he growled as he tried to pull her away, but she shook him off.
The man who’d spoken leered at her as his gaze raked down her body, and Samhail had the urge to pluck the eyes out of his head.
“We’ll deal with you after we get some answers out of your man here, sweetheart,” he said huskily.
“He’s not my man,” Talyn said coolly. “He tried to strangle me to death a couple days ago, and I almost slit his throat earlier today.”
The man blinked, and Samhail flinched inwardly at her words.
“Well then, it looks like we’re rescuing you,” the man said, “and I’m sure you’ll find some way to show your appreciation for that.”
Talyn chuckled. “Oh, don’t worry. I’ll be more than happy to show you how I feel, but first tell me what kind of answers you’re looking for. Maybe I can help.”
The man considered her before answering.
“He looks like someone we were told to find. Do you know his name? We’re looking for someone called Samhail.”
Samhail looked at the man more closely. They were looking for him specifically? Why?
“I’m afraid this isn’t who you’re looking for then,” Talyn said, feigning regret. “His name is Percy.”
Talyn was turned away from him, so she couldn’t see the glare he shot her, but the man with the crossbow did.
“You’re lying,” the man said. “We were told to find a huge man with long white hair, and this brute here fits that description perfectly. I don’t think there are many men on the continent that look like that.”
“And if he were this Samhail you’re looking for,” Talyn asked, “what would you want with him?”
“King Sandrian has offered a rich reward for his capture. Or his head,” the man said. “Even split between us all, we’d be wealthy beyond our wildest dreams.” He indicated his companions.
The bounty. Gods damn Sandrian.
The man smiled at Talyn, the leer still in his eyes, and Samhail once again had to stop himself from attempting to break the man’s spine.
The caronium in the bolts was making him too weak. He had to get them out soon before he couldn’t stand anymore. Wearing a caronium cuff was one thing, but having the metal lodged in his gut and ribs was quite another. If Talyn kept the man talking, he might find an opening.
“If you were to help us bring in Samhail,” the man said to Talyn, “we could split the reward one more way. Are you sure that’s not him?”
“Sandrian is no longer king of Rowe,” Talyn pointed out, ignoring the question. “How do you know he’ll make good on the reward?”
“He may not be king yet, but he will be soon,” the man said. “When that happens, he’ll reward all those who helped him regain power, like us.”
“So you’re doing all this on a gamble Sandrian will eventually retake Rowe?” Talyn asked incredulously. “What if he doesn’t? Then you’ve done all this for nothing, made yourselves outlaws for nothing.”
Some of the other men shifted, but the man with the crossbow said confidently, “Sandrian will retake Rowe. We have faith in that, and then those of us who’ve been loyal to him will be rewarded.”
“Where are you supposed to take Samhail when you capture him?” she asked.
The man’s expression faltered slightly, as if he realized she might be using him to get information.
“Come with us and find out,” he said. “You can stay with me. I won’t let the rest of the boys touch you.”
There was a murmur of grumbling behind the man, but he held up a hand and the others went quiet again.
“I see,” Talyn said. “Well, I think I know everything I need to know.”
She turned to Samhail, and he tried to read her expression. She couldn’t really be considering the man’s offer…could she?
Of course she could. She’d been hired by Sandrian, and something curdled in his stomach that had nothing to do with the nausea he felt from his wound. When would he learn not to give her any more chances?
“You can’t trust them,” he gritted out between the pain.
Talyn smiled at him. “I need to borrow Fred.”
Faster than Samhail could’ve expected, Talyn bent and pulled the dagger out of his boot. Then she was gone.
She reappeared a second later behind the man with the crossbow and jabbed the dagger into his neck.
Her other hand pushed the crossbow down in case his finger squeezed the trigger by reflex, and it turned out to be a good move.
The crossbow fired harmlessly into the ground as blood poured down the man’s neck, soaking his clothing.
He made a guttural noise as the blood dripped into his throat, and he slumped to the ground.