Untouchable. Part 11

"We were made to look guilty by those who want death and war," Sanura said softly. There was strength and serenityin her voice. Who would not believe her when she spoke so? "Do you want war, Rolf, or do you want the truth?"

The soldier heard the truth in Sanura's voice, just as Alix did. Rolf's brows drew together, his sword fell. For a moment, one fleeting moment, Alix believed this could all be over very soon. If Rolf believed, then others would, too. He never should've run from camp and made himself look guilty... but then, he had not actually been the one to run. That had been the other, the darker half of himself. His moment of relief did not last long, as Vyrn swung about and ran his blade through Rolf's midsection.

Rolf fell, realizing too late whom he could trust and whom he could not.

Vyrn backed toward the door. He did not like being outnumbered. He faced Alix's sword, the innkeeper's raised chair, and Sanura's knife. Alix made to follow, sure he could take the man on his own, but at that moment a thin, gray-haired woman rushed into view.

The traitorous sentinel grabbed her by the collar of her dress and held her body before his. "This is no longer a fair fight, m'lord."

"I did not know you were interested in fairness." Alix stopped his pursuit when Vyrn's stance changed and he held the edge of his sword to the woman's throat. One gentle motion, and she'd be dead.

"You should not have killed Rolf, m'lord," Vyrn said loudly, his words meant for the ears of those who streamed onto the boardwalk. "You should not have killed that poor boy who lies on the street." He smiled.

"Lies," Alix said. "And these people know it."

Vyrn made his way toward his horse. "These are your people, m'lord. They would likely say anything you ordered them to say. Do you really think the Tryfynians will believe their words of defense? Do you think the king who will soon bury his precious daughter will believe you to be innocent simply because your own people spin a protective tale?"

Vyrn made the woman he held hostage unhitch his waitinghorse, and with the sword steady he put a foot into the stirrup and sat a well-worn saddle. The long blade of his sword remained threatening until he drew it away swiftly, then turned and spurred his horse down the street. The people watched him go. More than one held their breath as the man who had terrorized them escaped.

"Will you give chase, m'lord?" the innkeeper asked.

Alix longed to do just that, but with Sanura riding with him he'd have no chance of catching Vyrn, and he refused to leave her here unattended. If Vyrn turned back... if the other soldiers came here and found her... "No. " He sheathed his sword and turned to face the innkeeper. "When I arrived, Vyrn was attempting to coerce you into admitting that you heard my confession. I can see for myself that he hit you several times. He might've killed you. Why did you not simply give him what he wanted?"

In spite of his pain, the old man smiled. "You don't remember me, do you, m'lord?"

"Have we met?" Alix searched his memory and came up with nothing.

"During the war with Ciro and his Own, you and a handful of other sentinels came to my rescue. More rightly, you came to my daughter's rescue. She was only nine years old at the time. You stood toe-to-toe with a monster and protected us."

The man's face was familiar, in a vague way. "I fought my share of monsters during the war, as did many others," Alix said, "but I was never in this village."

"No. I lived near my wife's family at that time. We moved here three years ago." The innkeeper gave Alix a belated and oddly graceful bow. "There are many who do not know that a soldier who fought Ciro and saved many became prince, but as I spent some time in Arthes, I know. I saw you in a holiday procession there shortly before I settled in this small town. Yours is a face I will never forget. I owe you a debt."

"Consider that debt paid," Alix said.

The old man grinned. "Not quite yet, m'lord."

PAKI did not care for the sentinels or the Tryfynian soldiers who believed the blessed Sanura was capable of murder. Still, following the heathens would likely be the easiest way to find the woman he protected. It certainly would make no sense for them to return to Tryfyn without her.

Sooner or later they would find Sanura and the man who had dared to touch her. She, they would protect with their lives.

The prince would die.

Paki and Kontar both felt shame for losing their weapons to the prince, for however brief a time, so they remained vigilant. They were confident that they would find Sanura, one way or another.

When the soldiers had paired up and gone in four separate directions, Paki and Kontar had chosen to follow the two they disliked the least. The Tryfynians and the Columbyanans were not well suited to one another. They did not trust one another-which was why each group of two was made up of a representative from each country. All those who searched had become frustrated at the fruitless-ness of their efforts, and they snapped at one another over the smallest matters.

Paki and Kontar traveled at a short distance from the others. They did not care about the murder of the princess; they cared only for Sanura and the fact that the heathen prince had touched her, openly and defiantly.

More than once during this leg of the journey Paki had suffered a rush of fear. Would a man who would stoop to butchering a defenseless princess do the same to Sanura? Was her body somewhere in the woods along the road they'd traveled for the past two days?

He wondered if Kontar had considered that possibility. "Do you think he killed her?"

"Perhaps." Kontar's face remained calm, but his fingers flexed. "His eyes were less than sane when he took our weapons from us. Men with such eyes are capable of any atrocity, I would imagine."

Paki did not like being reminded of that dishonorable moment when they'd had their weapons taken away. "We have failed miserably in our task. What if we don't find her?"

"We must," Kontar said. "We must find her. Dead or alive, she is ours to protect."

Paki patted the distended saddlebag where Sanura's box of implements rested. When they found her, she would need repair of her blue. The heathen prince had smudged the paint when he'd dared to grab her.

The soldiers who led this small party changed direction and headed toward a farmhouse which sat in the distance. Gentle puffs of smoke rose from the chimney. It appeared to be a peaceful and simple home.

"If he is here and alone, don't kill him immediately."

"Why not?" Kontar asked, outrage in his voice.

"We must know where Sanura is, even if she no longer lives."

Reluctantly, Kontar nodded in agreement. "He will tell us all we wish to know, and then we will kill him."

"Slowly," Paki said.

"Of course."

"WE can't stay here very long," Alix said as he followed Sanura up the stairs of the inn where they'd spent most of the day. "Vyrn could come back with others, and if he does..."

"Vyrn won't return to this village," she a.s.sured him. "As I told you earlier, he does not like the numbers being stacked against him, and he does not want to take the chance that some of his comrades might believe you and the innkeeper, as Rolf did. There were many witnesses to the death of an innocent villager, and more than one witness to Rolf's death. Even if he can round up all the others on such short notice, he cannot and will not bring them here, to the site of his defeat." She reached the top of the stairs and turned toward the room the innkeeper had a.s.signed them.

"You seem so sure," Alix said in a low voice.

"Do you remember that I told you most men are very easy to understand?"

"Yes."

"Vyrn is like most men, simple and even primitive in his thinking. He believes himself to be clever, but in fact he is little more than an animal in a man's skin." She shuddered. Vyrn was an animal who would kill without conscience anything and anyone who got in his way. He was the worst of men, worse even than the shadow Alix fought. Even though Trystan was primitive, Alix was always there to curb his appet.i.tes.

"Besides," she added, "you need to sleep, and I crave a night in a warm, soft bed. Just a single night before we take to the road again." She forced a haughty expression onto her face, and wondered how she might look without the blue which was so much a part of her. "I would also like a hot bath, scented oils, a dress which does not scratch, shoes which are not falling apart, my gold bracelets, and a bowl of freshly sliced tangitos."

"What are tangitos?"

"A red and lusciously sweet fruit, which grows only on the island of Claennis, and a craving which is as unlikely to be granted as the others." What she really wanted, the craving she refused to voice because she knew it would be denied, was Alix.

"We will leave before sunrise," he said.

Before entering the small room they would share for the night, Sanura attempted to look deeply into Alix once more. At the moment he was not so complicated, not so difficult to understand.

Perhaps more than one of her wishes would come true after all.

Chapter Ten.

THE small inn where they found themselves for the night was situated in a village which saw few travelers or visitors, so he could've insisted upon a separate room for himself. He had not. Sanura was correct when she said he needed to sleep, and Alix knew he could not rest if she was out of his sight. She was positive Vyrn would not return to this village. He could not be so sure.

While the room they would share could not compare with the luxury and s.p.a.ciousness of the palace Alix now called home, it was certainly acceptable. The chamber was small, but was large enough to accommodate the wide bed, a bedside table, a battered desk, and a chair. A tattered rug covered much of the wooden floor, and though the bedcovers and the curtain over the single window were thread-bare, they were clean, as were the sheets which covered the thick, sagging mattress.

The past two nights had been spent with the ground as a bed, so perhaps he was being too kind, yet Alix did take some comfort in this clean, private room.

He had not been able to obtain all that Sanura desired, but he had managed to arrange for a basin of warm water and clean towels, a better-fitting pair of walking boots purchased on credit from the innkeeper, a waterskin for their coming days of travel, and a warm supper which they had shared in the room. The innkeeper's blus.h.i.+ng daughter had delivered the food. She was no longer the child he had supposedly saved, but was a pretty and shy young woman who lived a quiet, safe life. Alix tried to remember saving her but could not. He had fought so many monsters in that d.a.m.ned war.

A single candle burned, and by its light Sanura slowly removed the dress she'd bought from Donia. The sight was enough to make Alix forget old battles-and new ones. Perhaps she did not intend her disrobing to be seductive, but it was, painfully so. She could not make a move which was not arousing. The way her freshly brushed hair swayed, the way her arms moved so gracefully, the way she turned her head . . . they were all seductive. Her sensuousness was a part of her, just as the darkness was a part of him. They could never escape who they truly were. Never.

When she was completely naked, Sanura opened the sack which held the broken leaves that would clean the blue stain from her skin-and Alix's. She grabbed one and walked slowly toward the bed where he sat. His eyes were drawn to the blueness of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and hips, to the line where her golden skin turned to blue. He could not forget being inside her, could not forget the sensation of her body swaying into his to meet his thrust. She did not demur, showed no hint of shyness, of modesty. She was entirely bare and comfortable with her nakedness, as if it were the most natural thing in the world to present herself to him thus.

"Will you?" she asked simply, offering him the broken leaf.

Alix hesitated. "Are you trying to seduce me?"

"Yes," she whispered. "Is it working?"

"Yes," he answered honestly.

She smiled, and her smile was as seductive as the sway of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and the movement of her hips when she walked. Everything in him came alive, twitched and screamed for what he knew he could not-should not- have.

"I do not fool myself into believing that we can be mated forever," she said sensibly, "but that does not mean we cannot enjoy what we both want in this perilous time. As I watched you fight with Vyrn, I realized with great clarity that our lives are very uncertain. If I die tomorrow, I will be very glad that this night was one of joy. If I find myself at the end of a hangman's noose for a crime I did not commit, I might die with a smile on my face as I remember a finer moment."

"The fact that our lives are uncertain does not free us to take anything we wish."

"Not anything, perhaps, but we can have one another for a while." Sanura sat beside him on the bed, offering her body for his attentions. He did not rush, but gently ran the broken end of the plant over the swell of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s until they were as rosy as her cheeks, unstained and unmarked. There were many other places on her body which remained blue, and he gave them all his attention. Her thighs, her hips, the rounded cheeks of her a.s.s, they all needed his ministrations.

Now and then he lifted the plant from her and replaced it with his hand, stroking her bared and clean flesh, absorbing her heat and reveling in the comfort of simply touching her.

"I know you worry about him who lurks within you," Sanura said as he stroked his fingers along her spine, "but you are so much stronger than he, Alix."

"Am I?"

"Yes," she whispered.

She did not speak again as he finished tending to her. Often she closed her eyes and seemed to savor every brush of the leaf, every warming sweep of his hand. As he saw to the task, he studied every inch of her body with leisure, in a way he had not before. He had never allowed himself the luxury of admiring her this way. He had always been too cautious, too aware. Too afraid.

Now and then he gave in to temptation and placed his mouth on her, tasting the warm flesh she offered so willingly, losing himself in her scent, her warmth, the flavor of her skin. How could there be anything evil or wrong in something which felt so good? How could a darkness he had suppressed all his life keep him from taking something which was only right? If he walked away from Sanura, did that darkness win another battle? Did it make him die inside a little more?

When the job was done and her skin was entirely free of the blue stain, Sanura began to undress Alix, her movements slow as she removed his vest, his s.h.i.+rt, his belt, and then his trousers. Like her, earlier he had removed only the paint which was visible when he was dressed, and beneath his clothes he was well marked as one who had touched that which was not his.

At the moment he did not care that Sanura wasn't his to take. He wanted her anyway. He certainly wished to believe what she said about taking joy while their lives were uncertain, and he wanted to believe that he was indeed much stronger than the shadows he had always fought. He'd lived his life restrained by caution, afraid to release what he knew slept within him. He was tired of being cautious, of not living fully and taking what that life offered.

There was joy in this, in touching, in pleasure, in the promise of so much more which danced just out of reach.

He waited for that dark part of him he denied to speak up, to urge him with a whisper to conquer or harm this woman who had changed his life, but the other remained silent. Maybe that part of him was sleeping. Maybe it was finally dead, killed by the myriad emotions Sanura brought to the surface.

Alix had always denied himself emotions, believing them to be a weakness which might awaken his demon. Perhaps that was wrong. Perhaps those emotions which marked him as entirely human meant the end of a darkness which was entirely unhuman.

Sanura removed the blue stain from his thighs, where those thighs had once rubbed against hers. She worked gently on a spot of blue on his side. Her fingers were warm, especially when they followed the touch of the cooling leaf. When all else had been cleaned, she rubbed a bit of the leaf's substance onto the palm of her hand and stroked his erection. Alix closed his eyes and savored the fluttering of her fingers, the strength of her palm, the stroke which almost sent him over the edge. The touch was cold and hot, and it was possessive in a way he had not expected.

"In all my life, I have never had a choice like this one," Sanura whispered as she stroked. "I was always told that I should feel honored and blessed to be a woman of the Agnese, that I should be pleased that men wanted to possess me. You tell me that it is somehow wrong, that I should wish to be free to make my own choices, to be my own woman. The idea of true freedom is frightening. What if I choose poorly? Who will take care of me if I make a mistake?" She leaned down and took a moment to kiss his throat, to run her hands slowly down his thighs and then back up again to grab his hard length and stroke it. "In my lifetime I have been sold and I have been given away, I have been treasured and pampered and taken care of. In Tryfyn I was feared and restrained and finally given away, as if my presence were a nuisance. In all that time, I have never chosen a man."

She straddled him with strong pale thighs and guided him to her, into her wet heat. "I choose you, Prince Alixandyr. Because my body wants yours, because my heart feels something I do not understand, because in my soul I am yours . . . I choose you."

She should not choose him. He was broken. The sad thought rushed through Alix even as he reveled in the feel of her warm body around him.

"You are not broken," she whispered as she moved slowly, swaying into him and up, then plunging down to take him all again.

"You can read my mind?" he asked.

"No, I read your soul, Alix. When we are linked, I see your very soul, I see all that you are, all that you want. Together this way, linked and soaring, we are truly as one."

She saw him, she saw all of him, and she was not frightened by all that he was.

Sanura's words stopped and her speed increased. She rose and fell quickly, stroking him, taking him deep, accepting all of him, body and soul. She undulated over and against him until she found completion with an arch of her back and a strangled cry. As her inner muscles clenched and unclenched, Alix gave over to his own fulfillment, and in that moment everything else went away and there was nothing in the world but her body and his. Nothing.

Sanura collapsed atop him and settled her head on his shoulder. "I feel so much better," she whispered, and then she sighed and pressed her lips to his neck. "Do we really have to bother to prove our innocence? How do we prove that Vyrn and Tari did the horrible deed? What if no one believes us?" She rose and smiled down at him. "I think we should collect Mali and make our way to the coast, where we will steal a boat and sail to an island near Claennis. This island is small and verdant and warm, and no one would ever find us there."

It was a nice enough fantasy, and was very much like his own. "Would we live on tangitos?" he teased.

"Tangitos and fish and s.e.x," she clarified.

With one hand, Alix s.h.i.+fted her face so her lips were upon his. He very gently moved his mouth against hers, allowing himself to get lost in the simple touch. When he started to draw away, she stopped him with her hands on his face.

"Don't stop," she whispered almost frantically. "My first kiss should not be so quick."

"FIRST kiss?" Alix whispered.

Sanura nodded as she pressed her mouth to his. Kissing was very nice, and much more powerful than she had expected it to be. It sent chills down her spine, it sent a spark of fire through her blood.

Alix rolled her onto her back without breaking the kiss. He held her, kissed her, cared for her in a way no other man ever had.

It was nice not being blue, not being untouchable.

For tonight she had Alix alone, without the darkness of Trystan. Of course, Trystan knew that when they were joined, she could see into his soul, and he did not wish her to see him clearly. Why? Was there a weakness he hid? A vulnerability he wished to keep from her?

Alix's tongue slipped into her mouth and she forgot Trystan. "This is so very nice," she whispered, her breath mingling with his. "If we were to run away, we could kiss all the time."