When Samandriel finally woke up the first thing that occurred to him was that he was actually lying down for once. It was nice, he thought. Much better than sleeping while tied to a chair. The second thing that occurred to him was that although he ached all over he didn't feel like there was currently anything cutting into him. That was nice too.

He hunted through his memory to see if he could figure out why things had changed. There'd been an argument, he knew that, although he couldn't remember what had been said. And then he'd been on a horse. And something else. Someone shouting…

His eyes flew open. "Castiel!" his voice was hoarse and not nearly as loud as he'd intended, but Castiel fell into his line of vision almost immediately.

"Samandriel! Oh, thank God, you're awake." Samandriel didn't think Castiel had ever looked so relieved.

"Where am I?"

Castiel didn't answer straight away, reaching away and coming back with some water, which Samandriel accepted gratefully. Castiel motioned for him to not try to sit up beyond lifting his head, and held onto the cup the whole time. "We're in the mountains at the border."

"We're going home?" he asked hopefully. That seemed most likely, but Samandriel's thoughts were still a little fuzzy and he didn't entirely trust them.

Castiel nodded, gently stroking Samandriel's hair out of his face. "We're going home," he confirmed. "We're moving slowly, 've been unconscious for the past few days, you're pretty badly hurt."

Samandriel looked down at himself as best as he could without sitting up. He was covered by blankets and couldn't see any injuries, but he still didn't feel like he was all that badly off. "I am?"

Castiel flashed him a concerned look. "You can't feel it? You're not in pain?"

"Not as much as I was."

Castiel's face contorted and Samandriel realized that may not have been the most comforting thing to say.

He changed the subject. "How long have I been - gone?" 'Held captive' was a stomach-turning thought; he didn't want to say it aloud.

Castiel's fingers threaded through his hair again, but pulled away when Samandriel winced as he brushed against a sore spot. "Your patrol was attacked about a month ago." Castiel hesitated, but seemed to decide to press on with what he was saying. "What do you remember?"

"I remember being ambushed. They killed - God, they killed everyone. There were dozens of them." He shut his eyes, trying to slow his breathing.

Castiel laid a hand lightly on his shoulder. "Easy, Samandriel. You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."

"Just-just give me a moment."

Castiel nodded. There was a brief silence, then he spoke again. "They're not all dead, Samandriel."

He opened his eyes again and looked hopefully at his brother. "They're not?"

"Hester survived. She found some other soldiers and made it back to the castle. That's how we knew to start looking for you so soon."

One of them made it out. That was something, he supposed. He shut his eyes again, considering falling asleep again. Then he remembered and opened them again. "Someone got me out. I was with him when you found us."

Castiel nodded slowly. "We found you on the road sharing a horse with a man who introduced himself as Benny Lafitte. He claims his conscience wouldn't let him leave you there."

"You-" A fit of coughing interrupted him and Castiel handed him some more water. "You don't believe him?" Samandriel asked once sufficiently recovered.

"I'm cautious about him. I wanted your side of the story before I started promising rewards."

"I don't remember much. I just hurt all over, and then there was a man untying me and telling me everything was going to be okay. He had a Purgavain accent, I remember that. I remember I was on a horse with him, and then hearing you shout my name. That's about it."

Castiel nodded. "You passed out. Benny had to hold you up on the horse to keep you from falling off."

"Oh." Samandriel was suddenly feeling exhausted.

Castiel smiled fondly at him, fixed the blankets, and stood up. "Get some rest, Samandriel. Either Anael or I will stay with you until we get home. You're safe now."

Safe. Balthazar had once told him that four letter words were the most powerful, and though Samandriel was fairly certain he'd meant certain other four lettered words, it seemed very true right now. It was strange, being able to draw so much comfort from such a little word. But it was comforting. Very. For the first time in a month he sank into darkness feeling secure instead of feeling as though he was sleeping to escape from something.

"Any change?" Anael asked when she ducked back into the tent.

Castiel nodded, pleased to be giving out good news for once. "He was awake for a few minutes earlier."

"Really? That's great! Was he - you know, was he coherent?"

"He seemed fine, all things considered. A little bit groggy and his memories of being held captive weren't very clear, but that's to be expected. And maybe a good thing."

Ana made an agreeing sound. "Considering how he was obviously being tortured it's probably best that he can't remember all the details."

Castiel only hoped it would stay that way. Dean had once talked to him about his mother's death, saying that he'd dealt with it fairly well for a long time, but one night he just began to have awful nightmares about it. They'd taken years to stop. Castiel couldn't even begin to guess at how to help Samandriel through something like that.

"Did he say anything about-" Anael jerked her head to indicate outside the tent. "-about 'Benjamin Lafitte'?"

"Like I said, he doesn't remember much, but he says he remembers that someone with a Purgavain accent took him out of wherever he was. We were planning on taking Lafitte to Michael anyway; there's no rush for Samandriel to remember anything more specific."

"So long as Lafitte doesn't turn out to be one of his captors who's just a very talented liar."

The thought had crossed Castiel's mind, but it seemed unlikely. "If he's one of his captors why would he be moving him alone the way he was? Why would he be moving him at all?"

"I don't know. But I'm not going to trust him just because I don't have proof that I shouldn't."

"I didn't say you should." Castiel started for the tent entrance. "Speaking of Lafitte, I'm going to go talk to him. You'll stay with Samandriel, won't you?"

"Of course." Anael sat down next to Samandriel, giving him an appraising look. Her gaze lingered on his obviously badly broken leg and Castiel saw the flicker of regret that she couldn't help him pass over her face. He felt the same way. The leg wasn't even the worst of it. Some of the gashes that had been carved into his arms… Castiel wasn't certain Samandriel would ever be able to use the limbs properly again.

He stepped out into the dimming light, wishing he'd thought to pick up his coat as he left. The mountain passes were usually cool and windy and tonight was no exception. He considered going back, but the part of him that was cold was overruled by the part of him that didn't want to admit to Anael that he hadn't thought his decision through before walking out of the tent. She'd laugh at him.

Benny Lafitte was under a light guard. He wasn't actually locked up or anything, but Castiel had told him in no uncertain terms that he was to do as ordered and stay where the soldiers could see him. The man hadn't offered any form of protest and Castiel had yet to decide if that made him more or less trustworthy.

Every time Castiel went to see Benjamin Lafitte he half expected to find that the man had managed to get a horse and escape, but the Purgavain was still right where Castiel had left him when they'd stopped for the night. The guard who'd been watching him assured Castiel that he hadn't caused any trouble, and had even helped cook dinner.

Castiel made a mental note to tell the soldiers not to allow potential enemies near the food.

"Mr. Lafitte."

The man looked up, seemingly unconcerned. "I keep telling you, your highness, call me Benny. 'Mr. Lafitte' makes me feel like my old man."

Castiel didn't really care who it made him feel like, but arguing over names wasn't really on his list of things to do that night. "Benny."

"How's your brother?" Benny asked before Castiel had a chance to say anything else. He sounded genuinely concerned.

"He's better. Woke up today." He watched Benny's face carefully to see if there was any fear of being caught in a lie there, but the man actually seemed to light up a little at the news.

"Did he? That's good. I was starting to worry I hadn't gotten him out of that place fast enough."

Which reminded Castiel of the question he'd been meaning to ask since they'd met but kept getting distracted from. "Why did it take you so long? Did it take your conscience a whole month to decide you weren't okay with a kid being tortured in front of you? Or just that long to decide you weren't having fun anymore and maybe we'd offer more money?" He looked down and his hands were shaking, clenched into tight fists.

Benny shot to his feet, anger in his face for the first time, and Castiel's hand moved to the sword on his hip. "Sit back down."

Benny froze, eyes going to the weapon, and he slowly returned to his seat.

"I wasn't there before."

"What?"

"The building they were keeping him in. It was some abandoned church that was never finished, I think. I wasn't there before." Benny sighed, running his hands over his beard. "I've been down on my luck the last few years. My fiancé died, my shop burned down… I lost everything. I've been traveling all over the country ever since, doing odd jobs when I can. Someone approached me a little over a week ago, said they wanted me for a guard job."

Castiel could understand the logic in that, Benny was a big guy. He undoubtedly knew how to use the battle-axe he'd been wearing when they met him. "The guard job being Samandriel?"

The man nodded. "Yeah. I was supposed to make sure he didn't get away - not that he could have, shape he was in - and make sure no one came investigating. I took the job without thinking much of it, I just knew guard job and that could mean a lot of things. And the money was good. But then I get there, and they've got this kid - Samandriel - tied to a chair, and they're- Trust me, you don't want me to tell you what they were doing to him."

Castiel almost challenged that, but swallowed the words back down. Benny was probably right.

"Anyway," Benny was saying, "I couldn't- It didn't matter that I wasn't supposed to be doing the torturing. I didn't even have to watch, just stand outside and stand guard." He shook his head, looking as though he might be sick. "But there was no way I was going to let them keep torturing this poor kid."

"Did you know who he was?"

"No, they didn't tell me. Probably afraid they'd lose people who wanted reward money." He gestured towards Samandriel's tent. "He told me. I wasn't sure if it was true or not; he was so out of it and obviously in pain. But he just kept saying that he wanted to go home, would I please take him home. And even if he was delusional about the whole prince thing I could tell by his accent that he was from Edengar. So…" He shrugged.

"So you thought you'd just bring a beaten and bloody man across the border and hope for the best?"

Benny grinned a little bitterly. "Never said I was smart. Besides, I got the impression that someone pretty high on the food chain was calling the shots on all this. Probably can't show my face in Purgavai again anyway."

It was a pretty impressive story, Castiel thought, provided it was true. It would take a lot of nerve to risk being exiled or even killed for the sake of a man you didn't know and who may or not live much longer. Castiel wasn't sure if he should believe it, but he didn't feel like Benny was lying. He gave a curt nod. "Well, I suppose we owe you our thanks then."

"Just trying to be a decent human being." Benny seemed to consider something.

"What is it?"

"Do you think I could talk to him? When he's doing a bit better, I mean. It's just that, you know, the only time I've seen him is beaten and bloody and out of his mind with pain."

Castiel could understand not wanting that to be the only memory of someone. "I'll ask him if he wants to see you. No promises."

"Good enough for me."

"Good. And Benny?"

"Yeah?"

"If he tells me that you're lying, that you were one of the people hurting him, I will not hesitate to tear you limb from limb."

Benny nodded respectfully, but no trace of worry crossed his face. Castiel thought that was probably the most compelling evidence in favor of Benny's story. A guilty man would worry about being caught. Only a man with nothing to hide could possibly be so calm in the midst of enemy territory.

Samandriel appreciated that Castiel and Anael made sure that one of them was always with him so he didn't have to wake up alone. What he didn't appreciate what his inability to so much as fidget without them panicking and rushing over, asking if he was okay and offering to do whatever it was he was trying to do. All he wanted was to see whether or not he could sit up without help. Move his fingers a little. Pick up his own damn cup when he wanted water. Make sure there hadn't been any permanent damage.

For now he was lying on his back, staring at the tent ceiling, contemplating counting the number of stitches in the fabric to stave off boredom. He'd first woken up three days ago, and no longer felt nearly as exhausted as he had before. More often than not his falling asleep was a product of boredom as much as a need for rest. Anael was sitting next to him, reading a book. Samandriel wished she'd at least read it aloud, give him something to do.

The tent flap opened and Castiel entered, looking irritated. "Anael, would you please come make the horses behave before the soldiers start losing their minds and killing the animals?"

She looked up from her book and blinked at him. "What?"

"The horses. One of them got spooked by a rabbit and now they're all refusing to settle back down. People are trying to sleep."

Anael rolled her eyes, shut her book, set it down, and stood up. "Oh, all right. You'll stay with Samandriel?"

"I don't need to be watched every second," Samandriel broke in. "I'll be fine for a few minutes."

His brother and sister looked unconvinced, but Castiel must have been expected elsewhere because he seemed to be considering it.

"Or," Samandriel offered, "you could send Benny in. You keep saying you want me to talk to him and see if I remember anything else about how I got out."

Castiel and Anael both frowned. "I don't know if I want to leave you alone with him," Castiel said.

Samandriel rolled his eyes. "You think he's going to murder me in the middle of our camp, while surrounded by our soldiers, with no weapon, no horse, and no way to escape? Even if he does want me dead, I imagine he's smarter than that."

Even Anael, who seemed bound and determined to not trust the man who'd appeared to have saved Samandriel from his captors, couldn't find an effective argument against that.

Castiel sighed with resignation and nodded. "I'll go get him."

"I'll see to the horses." Anael looked back at Samandriel. "I won't be gone long, I promise."

He nodded, appreciating the sentiment but not feeling terrifically concerned.

Benny entered the tent a minute later, looking at Samandriel and giving him a light smile before taking a seat next to him. "You're looking better."

"Better than I looked while bleeding out and suffering the effects of being tied up for a month straight? I'm glad." He'd been making a lot of comments like that since waking up. One of the soldiers had said he'd finally picked up a soldier's sense of humor. Castiel and Anael didn't appreciate it.

Benny didn't seem to mind so much though, his mouth quirking up just a little. "Well, maybe blood is a good look on you. I don't know."

Samandriel felt himself laugh for the first time in over a month. It hurt his throat, which was still recovering from his screaming, but it felt good nonetheless.

"I wanted to thank you, by the way," he said after a minute. "If you hadn't gotten me out of there…" His throat constricted and he had to stop talking. He didn't like thinking about the fact that Castiel almost certainly wouldn't have found him if it weren't for Benny.

One of Benny's hands brushed against Samandriel's arm and there was concern in the Purgavain's eyes. He didn't ask him to elaborate though, which Samandriel appreciated. "You don't have to thank me. I just wish I'd gotten the job offer earlier, gotten you out of there before it got so bad."

He sounded so sincere that any doubts Samandriel had possessed before were gone. Even with his fuzzy memories he was certain that Benny had to be telling the truth. "Still. Thank you."

"You really don't remember me getting you out of there?"

Samandriel shook his head and started straining to sit up.

"Are you supposed to be sitting up yet?"

Samandriel gave him a glare telling him to mind his own business. "I'm tired of lying down. I've done nothing but lie down for days. And before that I was constantly sitting."

"Well, don't start trying to walk," Benny said, reaching out to help him move without jarring his leg. "A broken leg is a broken leg."

"I know. It's the reason I can't ride a horse and have to be carried everywhere while we're moving."

"Well, going by how much pain you seemed to be in on my horse, I think that's smart."

"I remember that. Being in pain on a horse. You were holding me onto it, weren't you?"

Benny nodded. "You couldn't hold yourself on, and I was doing my best to put you in a position that was as un-painful as possible."

Samandriel nodded slowly, remembering the warmth of the horse underneath him, of arms around him, and a solid torso at his back. "And you were talking. I wasn't coherent enough to tell what you were saying, but you were talking."

"I wasn't saying much. Just making noise, hoping it might help you feel less threatened. You'd been through hell, and I thought you were delusional, so I didn't want to add to the pressure."

Samandriel gave him a sharp look. "You thought I was delusional."

"You told me you were a prince of Edengar."

"I am a prince of Edengar."

"I didn't know that, did I? I thought you were just delirious from the pain and the blood loss. You also told me I smelled like a fish that had been… let's see, how did you put this - 'left in a field after being dragged through a pasture'."

"Do you?"

"That depends, what does a fish that has been left in a field after being dragged through a pasture smell like?"

"I have no idea."

"Me neither."

They looked at each other and started laughing. Samandriel was cut off abruptly by a stabbing pain in his side, causing him to double over and clutch as his ribs.

One of Benny's hands was suddenly on his shoulder, speaking in the same calming voice Samandriel dimly remembered from before. "Take it easy. Just breathe. It's all right, little bird, just breathe, you'll be all right. You're okay."

Samandriel took a few deep and calming breaths and gingerly sat back up again. "Okay. I'm all right." He raised an eyebrow at Benny. "Little bird?"

Benny shrugged. "It's what came to mind. And it seemed to help."

Samandriel breathed out another slow breath. "It did. Thank you. I'm not sure what that was, but it wasn't fun. Would you hand me some water?"

"Of course." Benny handed him a cup and Samandriel was pleased to not have his siblings around so he could actually pick up the cup and drink the water by himself. Having them do all the work was getting old really fast.

He reached out for the cup, took it from Benny, moved one hand from the bottom to grip the handle, and immediately dropped it with a hiss of pain.

Benny jumped as the cup hit the ground. "Samandriel? Are you all right?"

Samandriel barely heard him, staring at the hand that had failed to grab the cup properly. He slowly forced it into a fist. He didn't even get his fingers halfway clenched before a sharp shoot of pain went down his arm in protest and he released the tension. He turned to his other hand and repeated the process, with the same result. He looked up at Benny, distraught.

"Samandriel?"

"I can't… I can't make a fist anymore. I can't…" His breathing started to speed up and get progessively more labored. "I can't use my hands anymore!" He heard his voice squeak as he said the words, but he couldn't make himself be embarrassed about it. "I can't-"

"Samandriel." Benny's voice was harsh, impossible to ignore, but there was a reassuring note to it too. "Just breathe."

He started to gasp, screwing his eyes shut and willing himself to wake up and find out that being rendered essentially useless was just a bad dream.

A large hand clamped down on the back of his neck. "Deep breaths, Samandriel. You'll be all right. You'll be all right, little bird. You'll get through this. You'll be all right."

Samandriel didn't know how long Benny stayed crouched beside him like that, repeating reassuring things over and over again in his calm voice, with an accent that was surprisingly comforting despite being the same one that most of his captors had had while they tortured him.

However long it was, it was long enough for Anael to return from calming down the horses, see Benny crouched over Samandriel - who was apparently having trouble breathing - and completely lose her mind.

"Get the fuck away from him!"

Samandriel heard her shout, but it took him a moment to fully process it, and by then she'd tackled Benny away from him, causing him to nearly fall over. He hadn't realized he'd been leaning on Benny through the panic until the man's support was suddenly gone.

He could see the two of them, Anael pinning Benny to the ground with a knife Samandriel hadn't known she had pointed at his throat. Benny was lying perfectly still, palms out.

"Anael!" The name got tangled on its way out, his breathing still uneven, but it made her look up. "Let him go, he didn't do anything."

She hesitated, looking between Samandriel and Benny uncertainly. Benny continued to not move. "Then what happened?"

"I-" Samandriel looked down at his hands and found himself unable to finish. He could feel himself shaking and harshly told himself to stop. It didn't help.

"Samandriel?" Concern overrunning her anger, Anael released Benny and came closer, putting a hand on Samandriel's shoulder. "Hey! Samandriel?" She looked over her shoulder at Benny, who was cautiously sitting up. "Do you know what happened?"

"He-" Benny cut off and Samandriel looked over at him, surprised to find Benny looking back. He's asking if it's all right for him to say what happened, he thought, and was stunned at the revelation. He nodded.

Benny looked back at Anael, who was looking between them with suspicion. "He tried to pick something up and… I guess there's more damage to his hands than he thought."

"I can't make a fist," Samandriel said in a distant tone, making a weak attempt of it again. It was surreal, and yet sickeningly all too real.

Anael took one of his hands gently, pushing up his sleeve and examining his hand and wrist. "They must have damaged some muscles while they had you."

Samandriel jerked away. "Obviously." It was a rude and immature reaction and he knew it, but he couldn't bring himself to care. He'd thought he'd been handling everything that had happened to him well, but now he felt like a small child again, wanting to curl up with one of his siblings and have them tell him that was going to be all right. He lay back down, staring up at the top of the tent. Anael told Benny to go back to his guards and settled down to sit next to him without saying a word.

The first week or so after finding Samandriel really hadn't been nearly as bad as Castiel would have predicted if asked.

The last week and a half was more than awful enough to make up for it. Samandriel, who had been sarcastic and obnoxious enough for Castiel to almost be able to pretend that nothing had happened, had retreated into a shell after discovering the sudden uselessness of his hands and was stubbornly refusing to be dragged out of it again. Castiel had never wished for his father more. He'd have been able to work out the best thing to say to make Samandriel feel better.

Castiel, on the other hand, was useless, and even Anael wasn't faring much better. He gave monosyllabic answers when pressed and stayed silent the rest of the time, usually staring at his hands rather than looking at his siblings. He'd even stopped complaining about people doing things for him and his not being able to ride a horse. Gabriel had once said that the day Samandriel stopped complaining they would have to start planning his funeral. Castiel had laughed at the time, but it wasn't funny anymore.

They were almost to the castle now, could see it looming ahead of them, and Castiel felt guilty relief at the thought that he wouldn't have to spend quite so much time wondering what to do with Samandriel. And he could see Dean again. Maybe Dean had some experience that would let him offer Castiel some advice.

Their brothers were waiting on the castle steps when they arrived. Balthazar looked ecstatic, leaping down to greet them all enthusiastically, not missing a beat when Samandriel only gave him a weak nod in response. Castiel had sent a messenger ahead to tell the three of them what to expect from Samandriel. Gabriel looked tired, but relieved. He was obviously still in trouble with Michael. Michael just looked kingly, as though it wasn't his younger brother being carried into the castle because he couldn't walk properly. Castiel was familiar enough with him to recognize the set to his features that meant he was boiling with anger inside. Pity to whoever caused it to leak out.

Castiel and Anael led Benny over to Michael, leaving stable hands to put their horses away.

"You're the Purgavain who rescued my youngest brother?" Michael asked as way of greeting once they were in his meeting room. His head was tilted back so his chin was up and Castiel thought his crown seemed to fit him better than it had when they had left.

Benny nodded. "I am, your majesty."

Michael looked to Castiel. "Samandriel says he's telling the truth?"

"He doesn't remember very much of being rescued, but what he does remember matches Lafitte's story, yes."

Michael didn't look entirely satisfied. Castiel couldn't blame him. "He says he's not one of the people who tortured him?"

"He says he remembers a lot of them. Their voices, if nothing else. Lafitte isn't one of them."

Michael's frown deepened and Castiel was startled to find himself wondering if Michael had been hoping for an excuse to execute someone.

"Have someone find him a room for now. I'll decide exactly what to do with him later." He fixed Benny with a hard stare. "Is that acceptable?"

Castiel wasn't sure if Benny actually found it acceptable or simply knew better than to argue with someone with that tone to their voice, but Benny nodded. "Yes, your majesty."

"Good. And I don't want you leaving the castle. If you need to go somewhere you find a guard and you ask them. Do as they say. Understood?"

"Understood."

"Anael?"

Anael gestured for Benny to follow her, face taught, and they both exited the room. As soon as they were gone Michael slumped into a chair with a heavy sigh. "Samandriel didn't look well."

"He seemed to be recovering until he realized he could no longer use his hands for anything that involved making a fist. He's been sullen and withdrawn ever since."

Michael nodded, fingers running idly over the grooves in the table. "I'll speak with him. See what he can tell me about his captors and their motives. Pamela has already been sent to him, I'll go after she reports back."

Castiel nodded. He wasn't sure that forcing Samandriel to talk about what had happened would be the best thing, but he had no argument to offer that Michael would listen to. "Do you have any ideas about Lafitte?"

"I don't want to send him back to Purgavai. Either he's a very talented liar and is therefore a criminal who deserves to be locked up, or else his story is true and he can't safely return home anyway. Whichever is true the best course of action is to keep him here." He looked thoughtful for a moment. "Perhaps Samandriel has an idea of what to do with him. He's his rescuer, after all."

Castiel nodded again. "Then, with your permission, I think I would like to get some rest. I don't much enjoy being on the road for a long time."

Michael's mouth moved in what might have once been a smile, and waved him off. Castiel left, feeling bone-tired and desperately wanting to pay Dean a visit.

Samandriel didn't look so much hurt when Michael walked in, so much as he looked worn out. Like he might decide to fall asleep and stay that way because fighting the urge to do so was exhausting. He didn't even turn his head when Michael entered, just flicked his eyes towards the door.

"How are you feeling?"

"All right, I guess."

Michael nodded, searching for something else to say. Comforting his siblings had never been a skill of his, and as much as he wanted to know who had done this to his brother he didn't think demanding it out of him would work out very well. "What's your opinion on Benjamin Lafitte?" he asked instead.

"Benny? I haven't really talked to him much, but he's alright. He rescued me, which I appreciate, and he helped me out when I started to panic after realizing…" He trailed off and looked down at his hands. The ones that had been rendered virtually useless. "I can't fight anymore," Samandriel said, sounding as though it was a realization he had only just reached.

"No, I guess not."

Samandriel made a sound that Michael had never heard anyone make before. It sounded desperate and lost and not at all like a noise his little brother would make. Not Samandriel, who had been proudly taking care of himself since he could walk without help and rolled his eyes when servants scrambled to do things for him. Never Samandriel.

Except that it was Samandriel, and now Michael needed to do something. "I don't think you should be left alone now. You can't defend yourself and until I know more I have no way of knowing this sort of thing isn't going to happen again."

Samandriel pushed himself up on his elbows, looking at Michael in horror. "You want to give me a bodyguard?"

Well, at least his brain hadn't been affected. "Yes. I'll let you have a say in who it is, but we don't have to talk about it right now. Just something for you to think about."

Samandriel huffed angrily and lay back down. "Fine. We'll talk about it later."

There was going to be an argument during that talk, Michael could tell. "Do you know who took you?"

Samandriel looked over at him, eyes pleading him not to make him talk about it yet, but Michael was unmoved. He needed to know.

"Samandriel. Do you know who was responsible?"

"I don't know who ordered it, no. But I recognized one of them. He was only there sometimes, mostly at the beginning." Michael saw Samandriel bite his lip nervously. His face was paler than it had been a minute ago. Michael didn't stop him talking. "I don't know if it was his idea or if he had orders, but he was in charge of everyone there."

"Who was it?"

Samandriel acted like he hadn't heard him, staring blankly at the wall. "Almost everyone had Purgavain accents, except for him."

"Who?"

"We know him. God, I never liked the guy, but I never thought he'd…" Another rough swallow and Samandriel closed his eyes for a minute, breathing heavily.

"Samandriel, who was it?"

A long breath in preparation. "The Hellacian ambassador to us. Crowley."

The declaration of war was out to the rulers of Purgavai and Hellacia by morning.