PARADOX II

by Rosemary Laurey

  The lad was sobbing as they dragged him away.

  Quel vaguely wondered whom Den would press into venturing into the forest. Convicts from the pound no doubt--soldiers desperate enough to risk the dreaded forest for the chance to escape the noose. The acting commander sat down behind his desk and stared at the yellowed walls. Life was full of opportunities if a man quashed his scruples. Quel had discarded his many years ago.

  He hated these wild lands and feared the savages. They needed containing, and force was the only way. He thought briefly of the lad now condemned to die in the forest, and at considerable length of the use he could make of his information. Quel smiled as he raised an inkstick and penned a letter to the governor of Merridale. A letter marked with the emperor's sigil would never be disbelieved. Life brought rewards to the bold and devious.

  CHAPTER THREE

  "Lady, where are you leading us?"

  Adriana smiled over her shoulder. Mark of Windhaw was half-enraptured already. "To Rache's other spring," she replied, leading him across the cavern to a tunnel in the far wall. As she stepped out of the short tunnel into sunlight, she turned to watch his face. Barbarians were always astounded to find this temple in the middle of savage forest.

  Mark of Windhaw was no different.

  He stopped in the tunnel opening and stared. Blue eyes widening, he scanned the high stone walls, the smooth paving under his feet, the carved basin under the spring and the stone-rimmed bathing cistern beneath. But most of all, he gaped at the steam that rose from the water. Stepping forward, he ran his strong hand through the cascade that poured over the rim of the basin into the cistern beneath.

  He looked around with increased wonder. "Lady, what is this place?"

  "Rache's warm spring. This is where I bathe."

  "A wonder indeed. I have heard talk of hot springs emerging from deep in the earth, but thought them wild romancing."

  "No, sir." She took a step closer. "There are five shrines where warm water rises, each is dedicated to one of the Goddesses. This is Rache's."

  "But who built this?"

  "Ancients long gone--those who respected and worshiped Rache." Not exactly true, Eadwyn had said it was a ruin long before Rache's women restored and dedicated it to their use. But what would an Astrian know or care? They destroyed. They did not build.

  Mark of Windhaw turned and walked around the rim of the cistern, pausing at intervals to examine stonework or inspect the carving in the high walls. He ran his strong hands over the finely hewn stones and shook his head. Adriana watched, trying hard to ignore the sunlight on his hair and the look of wonder and interest in his face.

  "Lady Adriana," he said, his voice seeming tight and drawn. "What a pity it is this skill was lost. Buildings such as this could last ages."

  "This shrine has lasted ages," she said. "None remember the building of it."

  He nodded. "If only these ways were still known!" He sighed. "One of my commissions from the emperor is to find a site for a university. If we could erect a building such as this, it would be a shrine to knowledge."

  "What is a university? A place to train priests?" They needed no more of them. She'd already seen what they could do.

  "More than that. A seat of learning open to all scholars. There is knowledge in these lands, old lore and wisdom, that is passing away. We would keep it alive."

  It would be better to keep people alive! All this talk was delaying her purpose. She walked back to where he knelt by the carved rim of the basin. "I did not bring you here to marvel at masonry or discourse on old lore. Warm water is for bathing, Mark of Windhaw, and you have traveled far."

  They were not quite touching, but she felt the heat of his body and smelled male sweat and horse. Yes, he did need to bathe. It was the best prelude to seduction she knew. The warm water would loosen his muscles and his will. This was a duty she'd long accepted, but for once she approached it without dread. She stepped closer and, standing on tiptoe, kissed him on the lips.

  To her astonishment, he stepped back, his eyes wide. "Lady!"

  His shock amused her. "Sir?" She tilted her head and stepped back. "I've angered you?"

  "No, lady, but this is not..."

  "Not what?"

  "Not seemly!"

  "You did not repulse my embrace before."

  "It is not your embrace, lady. Your graciousness and hospitality honor me, but to bathe like this is unseemly."

  She wrinkled her nose. "Washed guests are a courtesy to all."

  He colored under the weathered tan. "Lady, I would not offend after your generosity."

  Smiling, she purposely and deliberately eyed him, from sleep-rumpled hair to his leather boots, and everywhere in between. Her glance discomfited him. No matter. She reached out her hand and this time his fingers closed over hers. "Sir, our customs may not be yours, but would you forbid me to observe Rache's obligations of hospitality?"

  "Lady, never would I wish you forsworn."

  "Then come and bathe." She stepped away, pausing on the rim of the bathing basin just long enough to draw her robe and shift over her head. She sensed his gaze boring down her spine, then she turned just enough to offer him a glimpse of breast before sitting on the edge and sliding into the warm water.

  Her gasp of pleasure was no act. She loved the caress of water against her body, the wash of warmth over her breasts and the sensation between her legs as she leveled on her belly to kick away from the rim. After a few strokes she looked back. Her quarry still waited, feet planted on the rock, legs apart and hands on hips.

  He was resisting, but not for long. Not the way his eyes burned down at her. His restraint intrigued her. He was the first victim ever to hesitate at the sight of her nakedness. Some had even jumped in clothed. One almost drowned with his boots still on.

  Adriana stood and turned to face him. She deliberately brushed the water off her arms and breasts.

  No man had ever resisted her and Mark of Windhaw was no different from the rest. He was sitting on a ledge pulling off his second boot. It took mere moments to strip off his tunic and breeches. Her breath caught as she watched him pull his shirt over his head. Sweet Rache! He was beautiful--his broad chest almost golden in the sunlight, and his legs planted surely and confidently on the paved way.

  He took a few steps back, ran forward, then jumped. The swell washed water over her breasts in a warm rush. Time to meet him.

  She dived under the still-rippling water and stroked toward him, breaking the surface an arm's length away. Shaking her wet hair from her face, she smiled and held out her hand. "Come, Mark of Windhaw."

  "You observe outrageous courtesies in the forest, Lady Adriana."

  "I would offer you all our courtesies, sir. Let Rache's waters soothe your aches and ease the strain of travel."

  "And you, Lady Adriana, what would you do?" His chest rose and fell, the sunlight glinting on the warm drops that rolled down his chest and arms.

  "What you desire the most."

  "You can read my thoughts, lady?"

  "I can read desire in your eyes, Mark of Windhaw. I have few riches and fewer belongings, but I can offer the hospitality of one who dedicates herself to Rache." As she smiled, she drew heat from the water, and willed it into his flesh. Soon she'd see his defenses crumble. He wanted her, that was clear, but still he hesitated. "You find me unpleasing?"

  He chuckled at that. "Never, lady...Your beauty amazes and your generosity astounds. I am unfamiliar with your ways, and hesitate lest I offend."

  "The only offense to Rache is hesitation. A slight to one of her dedicated servants would be insult indeed."

  "Never!" He crossed the gap between them and, to her surprise, made the first move. Gathering her to him, holding her tight against his hard body--his hard aroused body, she noticed with satisfaction--he whispered, "Lady Adriana, I have heard tales of enchantment and magick in these far lands. Have you enchanted me?"

  "Not yet." She tilted her head and smiled.

  His mout
h came down on hers--hot, urgent and gentle. He opened her lips and pressed his tongue against hers, caressing and stroking with heated, fevered moves as she leaned ever closer, pressing into his growing erection. For a moment she was lost between the heat of his embrace and the warmth of the water lapping against them. She rocked her hips, sending warm waves rippling between their legs and eliciting a quiet moan from Mark of Windhaw.

  Or was the moan hers? It could not be! A mere echo off the rock walls around. "Come deeper, sir." She led him into the center of the pool. Here she was out of her depth so she floated on her back, parting her legs and looking up at the sky. It was well toward sunset, but still warm; in this sheltered grotto they could sport till dusk. By then he would be hers. Adriana sighed. He was handsome, fine of body and face, but she would not let a fair face blind her mission. A handsome man was a better offering on the altar of revenge than an ugly one, and to ensnare a man so close to the emperor who'd wrought such ill...

  Turning onto her belly, she looked over her shoulder at Mark. "On the ledge opposite I have white sand to wash with."

  She didn't watch to see if he followed. No need. She heard the splash as his arms broke the water, and sensed the pull as he followed close behind.

  She'd almost forgotten he was still wearing his underbreeches, but as they stepped out of the water, she noticed that he might just as well have been naked. Wet linen clung to his well-muscled thighs and tented over his erection.

  She scooped up a handful of fine sand and knelt. "Come closer, Mark of Windhaw." He stood over her, his erection level with her eyes. As she watched, his hard belly rose and fell with each speeding breath. His need was all too apparent. Satisfaction was at hand. When had she ever failed? "It is our way of hospitality to those who honor us with their visits."

  "You are not my servant, or my page."

  "No, I am a priestess offering service. I entreat you, accept this, or Rache will consider I've failed." She rested her hand on the damp linen plastered to his thigh. "Kneel, Mark of Windhaw."

  He knelt.

  Moving behind him, she gently massaged his back, rubbing the sand across his broad shoulders and down the valley of his spine. She spread her fingers wide, kneading and pressing to ease the tension in his muscles. She worked gently over the scar on his shoulder. No doubt that was acquired when ravaging her lands or maiming her people, but nonetheless she eased her fingertips over the proud flesh, stroking the hardened weal. When he gave a soft sigh she paused to drop a kiss on one rounded shoulder. Yes, a fine-bodied male was a truly pleasing sight, and none she'd yet encountered matched Mark of Windhaw for male beauty...and courtesy. Some had leapt on her flesh and taken her with haste, but this time it would be a pleasing enchantment.

  She eased her fingertips inside the band of his underbreeks, then withdrew, but not before pausing to appreciate his firm male rear and fine thighs. She gently stroked one cheek of his backside before moving around to face him. Smiling up at him, she reached to scoop up another handful of sand, but he moved faster.

  "I would dishonor my house if I did not meet hospitality with courtesy," he said, reaching down and holding up his hand, the soft sand trickling though his fingers. "Let us bathe each other."

  No one had ever offered that...but what was the harm? She turned, presenting her back to him, and idly wondered how she appeared to him. Was her skin smooth? Did her back curve like his? His hips were firm and narrow, not rounded like hers. Her belly was softer, her hands smaller...but her strength and purpose were great. She was a dedicated priestess. He was...

  "How feels that, Lady Adriana?" he asked, brushing sand over her back.

  "Like lying on the sand in summertime."

  "And this?" His hands stroked her shoulders, his fingertips caressing the upper swell of her breasts.

  She sighed.

  His hands came under her breasts, cupping their fullness.

  She leaned forward, pressing her breasts into his hands, closing her eyes as his fingertips brushed her nipples. She let the pleasure of his touch and closeness wash over her like a summer breeze.

  How right she'd been! This time was like no other. His lips brushed the side of her neck, and she whimpered with delight at the wild sensations such a gentle caress released. By Rache! It was wonderful! A gentle warmth seeped through her flesh as he whispered, "Lady, does the please you?"

  They both knelt up as they scooped handful after handful of fine white sand and rubbed each other's body clean. His body was as fine as any she'd seen. His skin was warm and smooth under her fingers, his nipples hardening like young buds. She ran her fingers down his torso, relishing the feel of muscle under warm skin. Auditor he might call himself, but this was no soft-bodied clerk who spent his life indoors scribbling with inksticks.

  Her hands trailed down strong thighs, skirting his erection behind the damp linen. Without hesitating, she loosed the tapes fastening his underbreeks. They fell open, revealing a firm smooth cock rising hard from the nest of golden curls. Beauteous indeed. Adriana longed to wrap her fingers around his cock and feel his warmth and male strength-- soon. Time enough for everything. Why spoil the present pleasantness with duty? She stood and looked up at him. A feast for the eyes in truth--what a tragedy he was Astrian!

  But nonetheless, they had time and opportunity to prolong this play and she would take whatever pleasure her onerous oaths permitted.

  "I think, Mark of Windhaw, it would serve us to bathe now." She walked over to the rim of the basin. Looking back at him--tall, beauteous and fine to behold--she slipped into the warm water with a sigh. She ducked under and broke the surface several armspans away. Standing, she brushed her hair off her face and scooped up water to rinse off the last traces of sand.

  Mark of Windhaw was nowhere to be seen! She turned fast, the water eddying around her in ripples. Where was he? Surely he could not have fled. The tunnel was across the pool, and his clothes still lay in the heap where he'd discarded them. He would not leave naked. Had he drowned in the water? That thought brought moisture to her eyes. No! Her mind screamed in silent disappointment. Not dead! Not that fine and handsome body.

  Her concern was nonsense! What if Rache's waters claimed him before she, Adriana, had wrought just vengeance? It was all one offering, one sacrifice. But oh! Adriana's heart clenched. It was too soon...he should have been hers first, but Rache had chosen it seemed...

  Best accept the Goddess's will.

  The water muffled Adriana's scream as her feet were pulled from under her. She reached out to grab the arms around her legs, clutching at flesh and hair as they rose to the surface together. Mark of Windhaw had her by the waist. They were chest-to-chest and face- to-face, and before she caught enough breath to protest, his mouth came down, and words and recriminations became superfluous.

  By Rache! Never in all her born days had Adriana know such heady pleasure. It was not just his mouth on hers, or his tongue teasing and caressing, but also the way his hands clasped her waist and drew her close. "Sweet lady," he whispered, lifting his mouth off hers for a breath space, "I would have wandered the woods forever to find you!"

  Her heart caught, and it was not just at the trail of kisses down her neck. How close to the truth he'd spoken! Soon he would wander the woods in discontent and regret, but now was not the time to dwell on her future duty. Best to dwell on his arms strong around her as he lifted her out of the water and fastened his mouth on her breast.

  She cried out in joy, surprise and sensual yearning. How could a man, and an Astrian at that, do this to her? How could she permit him to stop?

  As his mouth moved to her other nipple, she leaned back in his arms and let her mind float free. Wild longings stirred deep in her soul as her body ached for more. She did not understand this, but had no need to. It was beyond reason. Her mind closed to all but desire for his touch and need for his kisses. Duty awaited, but for now she'd lose herself in these new joys.

  He lowered her down his body, his erection hard against her b
elly. "Sweet Adriana," his voice came tight and deep. "There is magick in this place." How right he was. "Your magick and your loving. How I bless the mist that made me lose my way and find you." His hands brushed her shoulders. "There's still sand on your skin."

  Her hand came up his chest. "And on you. Come." Her arm around his waist, they walked toward the waterfall and stood together under the warm cascade. They let the flowing water wash their bodies clean. More was unnecessary, the rush of water was enough to sweep the last vestiges of sand from their bodies, but Adriana couldn't keep her hands still. They itched to slide over Mark's hard warm flesh and the golden hair that now lay smooth and flat. She indulged that need, trailing fingertips over his shoulders and down his chest, pausing over his nipples that rose like dark buds against his fair skin.

  Remembering the pleasure his lips had given, she bent her head, first licking his nipple before taking it between her lips. As it hardened even more under her tongue, he clasped the back of her head in his hands.

  "Sweetness, indeed!" he said. "You are my utter temptation."

  She was snared between pleasure and satisfaction. He was hers, beyond all doubt, but equally sure was the unexpected promise of pleasure. She looked up into eyes, blue as the sky above, that glimmered like sunlight as he looked at her. "If you would permit, lady..." One hand cupped her breast, his other her rump, pulling her closer. "There is much I would do to show you loving."

  "Why should I not permit? I offered my hospitality, sir."

  His wide lips parted as if to reply, but she stood on tiptoe and pulled his head down. This time she kissed, willing desire, need and abandon into him. Time to take this farther, but Mark of Windhaw was content for now, and strangely, so was she.

  Hand in hand they swam to the middle of the pool, splashing and playing like water bears. Touching, diving and circling, stopping to kiss and caress each other, then parting to dive and turn.