Untouchable. Part 7

Alixandyr was distraught because he had taken something which was not his. He had lain with a woman who was promised to his brother. And she now knew why Trystan had awakened during this particular journey. It was his desire for her, a woman he could not have, which had called the less n.o.ble shadow to the surface.

It took Alixandyr a moment to compose himself. "No matter which of us initiated the encounter, it was wrong, and I apologize. It will not happen again."

"Pity."

He lifted one imperious eyebrow.

"Well, you can hardly claim that it was not extraordinary. "

"I can't say for certain," he said. "I was there only for the end."

"That's the best part for a man, or so I have heard."

"You're teasing me."

She smiled. "Perhaps a little."

"This is no time for teasing. Princess Edlyn is dead, we're wanted for her murder, and I am quickly spinning out of control of my own body."

"And a very fine body it is, Prince Alixandyr, blue p.e.n.i.s and all."

For a moment he was stunned, and then he suppressed a smile. "You should call me Alix. It's a common enough name in Columbyana, so if we run into anyone along the way, it will hardly cause suspicion." Inside he uncoiled, he relaxed, he let go of at least some of the agony he carried within.

"Is Sanura a common name in this country?"

He shook his head. "Not at all."

"Then what will you call me, if we find ourselves in the company of others?"

"Woman," he said simply. "I will call you woman, if I find it necessary to call you anything at all."

Sanura was indignant for a moment, and then she laughed. At this moment she could not remain angry, certainly not over something so insignificant. "You may call me anything you like."

"We must hurry," he said, abruptly ending their conversation. "We slept too long."

"It was more than sleep that delayed us, Alix." She tested the short name on her tongue, and liked it.

His mouth was set in a tight line, but she could see him too well . . . she could see him much more clearly than before. In fact, she could see him more clearly than she had ever seen anyone, joined or not.

Perhaps because after all these years she had finally found the man she was meant to belong to. It was a startling thought, not at all like her. There was no true forever for a woman of the Agnese. No choice, no love.

"We shall hurry, then," she said as she straightened her skirt and walked toward and then past Alix. "We need that oil more than ever."

He studied his stained arms as he strode beside her. "I don't suppose I want to see my face at this moment."

"Likely not," she said lightly.

He grumbled something she could not understand, and she turned to look at him. And she smiled. The tender and joyous feelings she experienced would probably not last, but while they remained, she would enjoy them.

"This will not happen again," he said, his voice much more determined than his heart.

"If you say so," she responded in a carefree voice.

"It was entirely improper."

"Yes. You'd best not let Paki and Kontar see you before we get our hands on the oil and make use of it."

Again he grumbled.

His grumbling did not ruin her joy. "By the way," she said as she walked slightly ahead of him, "I suppose you should know that your tongue is even bluer than your p.e.n.i.s."

Chapter Seven.

"I'VE lost their trail!" the Tryfynian soldier shouted, and Vyrn cursed aloud in the morning sunlight. The squat, incensed moron who was leading this search party of eight- four Tryfynians and four Columbyanan sentinels-had led them in circles. If Prince Alixandyr reached the palace and was protected, and perhaps even pardoned, by his brother, one part of the plan would've failed.

No, failure was the wrong word. Perhaps he wouldn't get his bonus, but Princess Edlyn was dead and that had been his primary a.s.signment. Even if Prince Alixandyr escaped "justice" for a while, in the end the result would be the same. If the emperor and the prince led the country into war over the death of a woman, they would both fall, and the bitter woman who had once been married to their father would have what she wanted.

Still, the prince's immediate death would be both neater and faster. And the extra pay would be very nice. One could never have too much money.

"He will go to his brother for help, but not directly, I imagine," Vyrn said calmly. "The woman is too difficult to disguise, and he will not leave his wh.o.r.e by the side of the road. We should check the nearest farmhouses and villages, and ask if they have been seen."

"I suppose you think you should lead this pursuit," the Tryfynian soldier snapped.

Vyrn looked the man dead in the eye. "Yes, I do. I have allowed you to lead until this point because it was your princess who was murdered, but this is my country, and the people in these parts will talk to me much more readily than they will talk to you."

The man sighed, recognizing the wisdom of Vyrn's plans. "I am tired, and I do not know the countryside. You may lead for a while." His eyes hardened. "If I think for even one moment that you are purposely allowing your prince to escape, I will gut you."

"I possess no loyalty for a man who would murder a defenseless woman, prince or not."

The Tryfynian soldier, as well as the others surrounding them, nodded in agreement.

Gullible idiots, each and every one of them.

Vyrn changed the course of their chase, leading the party toward a small village they had pa.s.sed through on the journey to Tryfyn, many weeks ago. The prince and his s.l.u.t would need food, clothing, and soap. As he was at the front of the column and no one could see his face, he allowed himself a smile. Yes, they'd need lots and lots of soap. Someone, somewhere, would talk; someone would tell all they knew. He'd make sure of it.

It would be best if he could go alone, but that was not likely to happen. Still, he turned about-smile safely hidden away-and said, "I think we should split up into four groups of two. We can cover more ground that way."

A couple of the men were not certain about the plan, but others recognized the benefit of covering more territory in a shorter amount of time.

"Rolf, you come with me," Vyrn said, choosing the slowest of the Tryfynians to accompany him into the village.

It occurred to Vyrn as he watched the others pair up and ride off that if he could not find the prince, he could surely find a way to paint the man and his motives more clearly and more darkly. With enough evidence against him, there would be no hope for the prince. No hope at all.

AS Alix and Sanura traveled toward the site of the camp they'd run from just yesterday, they walked more than they rode. On occasion he led the horse while Sanura rode, as her inadequate shoes were so ruined they were almost gone. Such pretty and delicate slippers were not made for hours of walking across rugged terrain. Neither was the woman who wore them, though she did not complain. Much.

As Alix had suspected, those who were not in pursuit had broken camp and headed back toward Tryfyn, no doubt to deliver the princess's body to her father. Once that was done and the king was told that the prince he'd entrusted with his daughter had killed her in her sleep, there would be h.e.l.l to pay.

He preferred to think of that h.e.l.l, rather than dwelling on the h.e.l.l in which he was currently living.

Wanting Sanura and realizing he could not have her had always been difficult. Having her, remembering the feel of her body and his together, being washed in the vivid memory of how he'd awakened this morning and then continuing to keep his distance was physically painful. If he'd had his way, if he were not the man he was, he would've stopped to relive that experience at least twice during this long day. Knowing they did not have a moment to spare, knowing those who were in pursuit might be closer than they realized . . . he would still gladly stop to relive the pleasure of being inside Sanura. From the beginning, this time, so that he could see her pa.s.sion grow.

He worked at remaining alert and in command. All his life, he'd realized there was something different about him, something dark that others did not see. Fighting the dark impulses had become second nature to him, and yes, he had been foolish enough to think, on occasion, that he had won.

He had won nothing. That darkness would always be there.

Never had he expected that it was possible for the darkness to rise up and take complete control of his body and mind. Body, mind, and soul? Was everything of himself lost when the other was in command? It was worse than he had imagined it might be, so he fought for cool, calm control as he and Sanura traveled through the forest to retrieve her box of oils and paint and implements.

Though the company headed to Tryfyn had disbanded a day earlier, they would be moving slowly. It was impossible to travel quickly with that many women and the conveyance which would be necessary for the proper delivery of Princess Edlyn's body. Surely at least one of the Tryfynian soldiers had remained with that group as a guard; perhaps more. Alix wished he knew how many men remained with those headed back toward Tryfyn, so he'd know how many he might have to fight for Sanura's oils.

Alix had no doubt that he and Sanura could catch up- perhaps even by tomorrow morning, if they traveled for a while after dark. Once they had recovered the oil which was made for removing the d.a.m.nable blue, he and Sanura could resume their flight from injustice.

He would love to have a few words with Tari, if the opportunity arose. Sanura was certain the maid had something to do with the princess's death. To avoid war, he would have to prove that he was not in any way involved in the murder.

Even though he had not killed the annoying girl, and according to Sanura the other had not killed her, he still felt responsible. Princess Edlyn had been in his charge. If he had heeded Sanura's warning that Vyrn planned violence, if he had been more diligent in seeing that the princess was well guarded, then she might still be alive. Instead, he had imagined the worst disaster that could befall them was for him to be forced to marry the disagreeable girl.

Sanura walked close behind him, rarely complaining about the long hours of travel, never asking him for favors or indulgences. She traveled very much like a soldier. A beautiful, blue, oddly happy, jingling soldier.

Before they reached the others, he'd have to do something about the noise she made when she walked. Sneaking up on even an untrained maid would be impossible as long as she jangled so. He had not insisted that she remove her decorative girdle and bracelets and anklets before now because he liked the music she made with each step. The sounds she made soothed him, even as they reminded him of what he could not have again.

She was Jahn's, and he himself was irreparably broken.

Still, they had a long way to go before it would be necessary for her adornments to be removed, and until then he would allow himself the joy and the pain of listening to the music she made with each step she took. There were moments when he was certain the words to her song were "Not yours, not yours, never yours," and still he took solace in the sounds.

It was the scent of something sweet and warm that broke the monotony of the day. Alix's mouth watered. They had found plenty of water along the way, as well as bitter spring berries and a few edible but equally bitter weeds which grew near streams of cold water. The food they foraged kept them from going hungry, but the aroma which interrupted Alix's thoughts was sweeter than any he had ever imagined. He stopped in midstride.

"That smells delicious," Sanura said, her voice filled with an entirely different kind of desire than the one he'd been mulling over before the aroma had stopped him. "The source can't be too far away."

Alix turned to look at her, and found her as he had all day-smiling, gently joyous, filled with contentment in this time when she should be anxious and afraid. "We have no time for such distractions."

"Surely it won't take long," she said, backing away from him. There was a devious sparkle in her eyes, one he had never seen before. She looked like an impish little girl set on something she should not have. Alix's eyes were drawn down. Her slippers were in shreds. A gold anklet sparkled there, tempting and beautiful against her blue skin and the torn slippers. He sighed. They didn't just need food, they needed inconspicuous clothing, blankets, a canteen, another horse, and st.u.r.dy shoes for Sanura. But first, they needed that oil. They were much too conspicuous in their current state of blueness.

"I never thought I'd stoop to being a thief." Alix tied the horse's reins to the low-lying limb of a tree near gra.s.s perfect for grazing, and he followed Sanura toward the scent that had captured their attention.

"I did not say I would steal the food which is creating that marvelous smell." Sanura removed one bracelet, slipping it from her slender wrist and over long, lovely fingers. "I will buy what we need with this."

No! Would the loss of a bracelet harm her tune? Would she sound the same when she moved if she gave away even one small instrument? "You are blue," he reminded her. "So am I."

Sanura grinned widely. "I know." This morning's episode had not disturbed her at all. She was able to embrace the joy of the experience and forget all the reasons why it should not have happened.

She had called his darker side to the surface once before, when he had refused to flee from the camp without attempting to reason with his men. Had she done so again this morning, in order to get what she desired? Who- what-did she desire? Him or the other? The n.o.ble man he had fought to become, or a darkness concerned only with its own needs?

Alix followed Sanura, one hand on the grip of the sword he had found himself carrying when the other had gone deep and Alix had come to the surface to find himself rus.h.i.+ng away from execution. It was not his sword, but it was a proper sentinel's sword, and of a style with which he was familiar. He kept one hand on the grip, in case he and Sanura were headed toward more than food. She was drawn to the aroma of something freshly baked. He was drawn to her. In the early morning hours he had smudged her once flawless blueness, but she looked none the less beautiful. The curve of her hip, just above the low-slung skirt; the grace of her arms, bare and slender and long; the willowy movement of her legs, legs which had once been wrapped around him . . . all was perfection. He watched the sway of her hips, listened to the gentle song of her movements, and wished he were another man.

If he were another man, they could run and never look back. There were many spa.r.s.ely populated areas of Columbyana where a man and a woman who did not wish to be found might live a very nice life. They could farm a bit, perhaps fish if they lived near the sea. He did know how to fish. They could build a small house, a home smaller but also warmer than the palace in Arthes which he now called home. They could make babies and laughter, and keep one another warm in the wintertime.

Foolish thoughts. Not only was such a life impossible for him, it was surely not what a woman like Sanura wanted for herself. She had had jewels and servants and the finest of clothes. A small, isolated farm and a fisherman husband were surely not what she desired from her life.

Not that such a choice would ever be his. He had responsibilities, and once he cleared up the confusion surrounding Princess Edlyn's death, he would once again devote himself to those responsibilities. He was a prince; he was his father's son.

Soon a small cottage was in sight. Puffs of white smoke drifted from the stone chimney. In a house this small, the cooking was probably done over the fireplace at the base of that chimney. He could picture it well, as he had grown up in a cottage no larger than this one.

Sanura looked over her shoulder and smiled at him, and his stomach dropped.

Take her. Wipe that disgusting grin off of her face.

He shook off the hateful words, words he knew were not his own. "I won't let you harm her," he whispered as Sanura's gaze returned to the cottage.

I know. That's why I haven't done so, yet.

That "yet" was frightening, but not altogether unexpected. "Go away." His words were so soft they could not rightly be called a whisper. "d.a.m.n you, go away."

I can't go away just yet, Alix. You need me.

"I do not."

Again, Sanura glanced at him. "Did you say something? "

"No," he said sharply.

You're the one who's going away, Alix, prince, do-gooder, n.o.ble a.s.s that you are. I am what you truly are at the pit of your soul. I am your essence, your true self, and in time I will be where you are, and you will not even be able to whisper "no" as I give in to every impulse you've denied me for so long. I'm hungry, Alix, I'm so very hungry.

Was it his imagination, or did the voice grow stronger as it spoke? As they stepped into a clearing, his eyes fell to the sway of Sanura's hips. The thing inside him, the darkness he had fought all his life, wanted to make Sanura a slave to his own desires. Not a pampered possession as she had once been, but an abused and miserable thing.

He barely knew Sanura. They were lovers, they were partners on the run together, but he could not say that he knew her at all. And yet he realized without doubt that he'd take his own life before he'd allow her to be possessed by the other. He'd said more than once that he did not know what horrors he might do when the darkness within him ruled, but in truth he did know. He knew too well.

WITH every step Tari took, she grew more anxious. She was moving away from Vyrn, and though he had said he'd be back for her, the farther apart they were, the more uneasyshe became. The thought of never seeing him again, of never touching him, of not having all that he promised-it was a nightmare. She'd had no hope of love and happiness before meeting Vyrn, but now that she had those things, she would not allow them to be s.n.a.t.c.hed away.

Besides, if they reached King Bhaltair's court and one of his wizards or witches looked at her and saw the truth of what she'd done . . . Even Vyrn couldn't save her from the king's wrath.

When the others stopped for water and a quick bite of lunch, Tari slipped away. She wrapped some bread in a kerchief, hid it in her ap.r.o.n pocket, and then she stepped into the forest as if she needed to relieve herself. Once she was away from the others, she began to run. Back the way they'd come, back to Vyrn, she ran. After she'd run for several minutes, she made her way out of the forest and onto the road, where she could run more easily. She glanced back once, even though she knew no one would be following her. A missing maid was not important enough for them to give chase. She was merely a serving girl, and when she did not return from the forest, they would a.s.sume either that she'd run away or that a vicious woodland creature had eaten her. They would not even wonder about the fact that they'd heard no screams.

Here in the road there was nothing to impede her progress as she ran. The wind whipped across her face and mussed her hair, and she found herself smiling, even when her legs began to ache. When she'd left the castle, forced into serving the blue slave who was everything Tari was not, she'd been miserable and without hope. Now she was filled with hope. Hope and love.

Such a change did not come without a price. She would never forget the startled look on the princess's face when the poor girl had awakened to find the knife at her throat. Princess Edlyn had been surprised for only a moment before Tari had sliced her throat with the knife Vyrn had given her. In that moment, the princess had known she was about to die. Tari had not given her the opportunity to scream. A scream would've brought soldiers running, and that could not happen. All would be ruined if the truth were known.

Tari had wisely worn an ap.r.o.n for the killing, since Vyrn had warned her that there would be a lot of blood. That blood-stained ap.r.o.n was buried in the forest not far from the campsite where the killing had taken place, and not far from where Vyrn had hidden the prince's sword. No one would miss that common and insignificant garment, one of many from the castle laundry. She'd buried it so deep that no one would ever find it.

As she ran, she thought of Vyrn and all he promised. Love, marriage, children, love, love, love. She had come to enjoy the s.e.x, but it was much more than that which bound her to Vyrn. Any man would likely fill that need for her, if she required it. It was the love itself that spurred her on. A handsome man loved her. He needed her. He wanted to marry her. A once hopeless future had vanished, and a new and brighter one had taken its place.

Tari had never thought herself to be a cruel person, but in order to have what she wanted, she would do anything. Anything at all.