Mind Guest (Diana Santee Book 1)

by Sharon Green

  "You need have no fear, Princess," Fallan said at once, his deep voice unusually gentle and reassuring. He stayed right where he was, his thumbs hooked into his swordbelt, his eyes on me with more concern than I would have expected.

  "A princess feels no fear," I answered, the quiver in my voice all Bellna's doing. "Murder me if you will, yet know that my father shall avenge me. And I shall die as a princess should, with head held high."

  I flinched inwardly as I raised my chin to match the words forced on me by the Bellna presence, but I wasn't the only one to consider my speech of bravery more ridiculous than dramatic. The four peasant girls snickered among themselves and Fallan closed his eyes with a deep sigh, both reactions startling Bellna enough to let me grab a corner of control again. Bellna's fear and my own suspicions had let the presence in my mind take the reins for a while, but no more than a short struggle got them back for me. I thought about wiping my damp forehead on the back of my sleeve, then rejected the idea. It wasn't something Bellna would do, and it was too close in the tent for anyone to wonder why I might be sweating.

  "There is to be no murder, girl," Fallan said with thick patience, speaking slowly and clearly. "I have brought you within this tent so that you might give up your clothing with the privacy due your station."

  "Give up my clothing?" I echoed as I stared at him, every bit as confused and dumbfounded as my mind ­guest. "For what reason am I to give up my clothing?"

  "For the reason of your safety," Fallan answered, still heavy-voiced with patience. "The enemies of your fa­ther must be expected to know that you travel now to your nuptials, and must also be expected to attempt some manner of interference. Should they descend upon us, there will be no easy victim for their blades - or, shall we say, no proper victim. The princess will not stand in her own shadow."

  He ignored the way I stared at him, totally speechless, and turned to gesture at the redhead. She left the others and approached him, and then they both met my stare.

  "This wench has been sold by her father into slavery," Fallan explained, putting one big hand on the shoulder of the girl who now stood in front of him. "The Lord Grigon purchased her before she might be given over to the training of a slave, and she has been given this vow: should she comport herself in so adequate a manner that enemies of the prince, your father, believe her to be you, and should she survive whatever attempts are made against her, she will be given her freedom once more, and adequate gold to assure her retention of that freedom. You must now take her clothing as she takes yours, and quickly, so that the journey might continue. I will, of course, await you without the tent."

  So that was why the girl had hovered around me in the inn! To learn the way a princess behaved in public! I was still staring at Fallan in disbelief as I tried to figure out where Grigon fit into all of that, but the big mercenary began to turn away before even the faintest hint came through. I still didn't understand what they were all up to, but one point I was crystal clear on: Fallan was trying to replace a decoy with a decoy!

  "Hold, Captain!" I said, stopping him before he could head for the tent flap, not about to stand still for that nonsense. "My clothing will remain in its proper place - ­with me!"

  Fallan turned back to me impatiently, but this time the jump was mine.

  "Do you think me craven enough to set another in my place?" I demanded, making no effort to keep the outrage from my voice. "My father is a prince who will never hide fearfully from his enemies; his daughter may do no less."

  There was no way I was going to let that little girl be set up for the slaughter, no matter how eager they'd made her to give it a shot. Her eyes were wide and pleading as she looked at me, begging me to let her take her chances, but she didn't know what she was asking. Even I had no guarantees about surviving, and if she had even half the training I did, I'd eat that tent. Without salt.

  "Do you think my company so incompetent that her death is sure to be?" Fallan demanded in turn, but gently. "Attackers, should they come, will find no easy access to her, for that you have my word. It is our intention that she shall survive - as shall you. Remove the clothing."

  "Never," I answered in as final a way as possible, meeting his eyes to let him know I meant it. Under other circumstances the idea of hanging on doggedly to clothes I would have loved to be rid of would have been funny; under those circumstances, funny didn't enter into it.

  "Then there is nothing for it save that I do the thing for you," Fallan said, with the same finality. "Should this be other than that which you wish, your own efforts must be made upon the moment."

  Slowly he began to close the four or five steps be­tween us, the calm expression in his eyes saying he sympathized with my stand but had no intentions of letting me keep to it. I felt a flash of burning hot resentment behind my eyes, the sort that comes from someone who isn't used to not getting her own way, and quickly wiped away the annoyance I was feeling. If my reactions merged with Bellna's I would be the loser, and if I was stupid enough to forget that, I deserved what­ever I got.

  I didn't like having Fallan telling me what to do, but there was more freedom of option in that situa­tion than in having Bellna take over. Fallan was two steps closer and just beginning to reach a hand out when the grip of my control over myself stopped slipp­ing enough for me to raise the bottom of my skirts and try to make a break for it.

  Fallan stood between me and the tent flap, but there was enough room in the dim tent for a lot of dodging and fancy footwork. I ran three full steps to the left then dodged right, avoiding Fallan's grab by a wish and the rustle of skirts. The mercenary cursed in a low voice at the miss, but I was already past him and on the way to the tent flap.

  The four peasant girls "eeked" and gasped and drew back from the chase but, unfortunately for me, in the wrong direction. They clumped up in front of the flap I needed to get out of the tent, and Fallan was too close behind me to let me take the time I needed to plow through the girls. I moved to my left again and darted away, and again Fallan cursed when his hand closed on empty air. He was faster than a man his size had the right to be, and Bellna was silent and shocked inside my head. She'd expected to be able to get away from him easily, and now that she - I - hadn't, she was starting to get worried.

  I led Fallan around the tent, avoiding half of his grabs by sheer luck, trying to work my way back toward the tent flap, but this time from the right. From that direction, along the front wall, the four girls ought to scatter to the left, away from the flap, giving me clear running room. Fallan tried to corner me against the side wall we were near, watched carefully as I bobbed back and forth in front of him, saw the feint I made to my right, then lunged to my left, where he thought I was going.

  To his disgust I continued on to my right, turning the feint into real motion, and blasted at top speed right toward the flap. I was so covered with sweat that it rolled down my forehead to burn my eyes, but I couldn't let that stop me. Once I was outside I would lose Fallan and his friends fast, backtrack to the inn we'd stopped at, then burst hysterically in, telling every­one that my escort had tried to assassinate me. That would keep Fallan away if he managed to follow, and also spread the word with the departing travelers as to where the Princess Bellna could be found. If Clero's men didn't show up after that, I would throw in the towel.

  The four girls squeaked again, and began scattering like a flock of ducks in hunting season. I took a chance and swiped at my eyes with the back of my sleeve, trying to clear my vision, and because of that didn't see the slim leg stretched out directly in my path. I did notice it, though, as soon as I tripped over it, tried to recover, and didn't quite make it. The grassy ground the tent had been pitched over came up to knock the wind out of me, but as soon as I could I started to roll, silly enough to think I still had a chance. I'd forgotten about those stupid skirts again, and Fallan was on me before I could fight them out of my way.

  "No, no, you will not again take to your heels," Fallan panted as I struggled to avoid his
reaching hands and scramble to my feet. "Timely assistance has brought you down, and I will see that you remain so."

  As his hands closed on my wrists I felt Bellna's panic, and an instant later my own panic joined hers. She was flowing toward my store of unarmed aggressive tech­niques, determined to use them on Fallan the way I'd used one of them on Valdon! If that didn't send every­thing sky high nothing would, and instead of having just Fallan to struggle with, I found myself in a double fight.

  Fallan forced my arms away from between us and pinned my body with his, drawing a scream of rage from Bellna and an increase in her struggles. I say her struggles because I'd lost that much control, finding myself dragged along as most of my power of denial covered the one file of information I couldn't afford to let Bellna have. My body writhed and twisted on the ground, my feet kicking the way my mind kicked, and then the Lord of Luck came to my rescue again.

  Bellna's struggles had brought Fallan's arm close to my face, and by timing the effort I was able to make my teeth close on that arm. Fallan bellowed and pulled away as Bellna froze again in fear, and then I was all alone and back in control - just in time for Fallan's open-handed slap. My ears rang from that slap and my cheek flamed hotter than the stifling air of the tent, but at least those parts were mine again. I saw Fallan raise his arm for another slap and cringed back in true Bellna style, but that seemed to make the mercenary change his mind.

  "There has been more than enough of this foolishness," he growled, lowering his arm without swinging at me a second time. "Remove her from this clothing at once."

  He pulled me into a sitting position, locked one fist in my hair, then moved as far to my left as he could, to be out of the way of the three dark-haired girls. The three girls had come on the run at his growl, but the fourth, the redhead, just stood to one side and watched me. Her young, pretty face showed no signs of triumph or smug satisfaction, but her light eyes were filled with trembling determination. She was the one who had tripped me, of course, and all for the privilege of being set up as a target. I suddenly realized how much free­dom meant to her, and looked away in resignation. To prefer death to lifelong slavery was a philosophy I could identify with, even if it did make my job that much harder.

  The three girls near me started to unlace my boots, their heads down to cover their amusement at my discomfort. Having your boots unlaced is no big thing, but that wasn't the way Bellna looked at it. She knew that after the boots the rest of my things would be taken, and was also overly aware of Fallen beside me, his big hand tight in my hair.

  Bellna knew that she and I would be stripped naked in front of Fallan, and although I couldn't have cared less, Bellna was still young enough and innocent enough to feel the hot-glowing flash of embarrassment. I didn't need a mirror to know I was blushing like a failure light on a pilot's board, and to say I was uncomfortable would be the understatement of the week. I had control and I would keep it, but that didn't mean I wasn't paying the price.

  Both of my boots were pulled off at just about the same time, and then the girls came away from my feet to tackle the light blue dress. Trying to push them away accomplished no more than making two of the girls each take one of my arms, leaving the third free to work on the dress. I struggled ineffectively as the dress was opened and then pulled off first my arms and then down past my legs, and couldn't help struggling even harder when the underdress was lifted up. That couldn't be slipped off around my feet, and the girls needed Fallan's help to get it free. His arm around my waist held me relatively still while my arms windmilled and my hands tried to hang onto the underdress, but the three girls pulled it off and tossed it away out of my reach.

  "My, my, what lovely, delicate, feminine underthings," Fallan drawled over my shoulder, obviously looking at the lower part of my underwear. "Had I known what beauty lay beneath those skirts, I might well have con­trived to see it the sooner."

  The three girls added their giggles to Fallan's chuckle, and I couldn't hold back the mortified wail that came from Bellna. I was burning up with the humiliation flaming through me, but swinging my arms back in an attempt to hit Fallan did me no good at all. He caught my wrists and held them behind me, clearing the way for one of the girls to reach to the lacings on my underbodice, at the same time looking over my shoulder to watch the process with grinning interest.

  Fallan was getting even for everything I'd done to him, and at that point I would have done my damnedest to take him apart if I could have gotten loose, but I couldn't get loose. I could only pull at his hands on my wrists as I sat with legs straight out in front of me, and watch myself being stripped.

  The grinning girl undoing the lacings moved as slowly as possible, trying to increase my misery and Fallan's interest. As the bodice opened wider and wider, I be­came aware of how close Fallan's face was to mine; inside my mind Bellna shivered, and all at once she was fantasizing.

  In her fantasy Fallan reached one hand over my far shoulder, slipped it inside the half-opened bodice, squeezed slowly and with infinite relish, then went on to make violent love to her. I would have thought she'd had enough of violence, but some girls are never satisfied. I suffered in silence as Bellna fantasized and the dark-­haired girl took her time opening the lacings, but at least fantasy didn't turn into reality. The real Fallan kept his hands to himself, satisfying his thirst for re­venge with no more than words.

  "Those breasts could do with a bit of sun," he observed, his tone thoughtful and faintly critical as the bodice was pushed all the way open. "A bit less confinement might also increase their size."

  The girls near me giggled again, enjoying Fallan's put-down, and Bellna was too wrapped up in her daydreaming to notice. That left the option to me again, and I didn't mind taking it up.

  "Your disapproval of my form devastates me, Captain," I said, turning my head to look at his very near profile. "How fortunate I am that it is another I must please, and not you."

  "Fortunate, indeed," he drawled, turning his head to look me in the eye. "I am not a man to be easily pleased, as many a wench has already learned."

  "Some men do come rather late to their manhood," I allowed with a compassionate smile. "Have patience, Captain, and do not despair. One day you, too, will be pleased as easily as other men."

  The girls around me flinched in silent pain, staring wide-eyed at the thunder my deliberate misinterpretation of Fallan's meaning put in the big mercenary's eyes. I was skating close to the edge by insulting him that way, but he couldn't say he hadn't asked for it. Besides, life without risk is no more than existence.

  "How good of you to be concerned regarding my manhood, Princess," he said at last, obviously trying to control the rasp in his voice as well as the look in his eyes. "It must be of considerable interest to you, to cause so great a concern."

  The girls tried to giggle at his comeback, but the laughter came off rather flat, just like Fallan's try. But he was trying, which meant he hoped to learn the game; could I do less than try to teach it to him?

  "Alas, Captain, I find it beyond me to aspire to one such as you." I sighed, trying hard to keep the drawl out of my tone. "I am resigned to having no more than that which I already possess, meager as that position is."

  "Resigned," he echoed, studying me thoughtfully and with considerably less anger than I had expected. "I find it difficult to believe, Princess, that one such as you finds it necessary to be resigned to any matter whatsoever. Though the pink of embarrassment remains in your cheeks, still do you strive to give me blow for blow in defense against attack. Were you a boy and of the proper background, I would take you in my company and teach you the weapons of a man. However, as you are not a boy, and therefore in need of learning the benefits of maidenly silence, I fear I must further bruise your sensibilities."

  A lighthearted grin lit up his ugly face as he said that, and I didn't even have the time to wonder what he was up to. He turned my wrists loose so suddenly I was startled, pulled the underbodice off in one sharp motion, then had
me around the waist before I could even begin to react.

  Bellna's wail sounded in my head as Fallan threw me face down on the ground, put his knee in my back, and pulled open the tie at my waist. He was doing it by the numbers, the bastard, and the last number was to begin working off the lace-layered undies, as slowly as the girl had unlaced the bodice, letting his palms touch my flesh only very briefly and once in a long while.

  I screamed with the unbearable outrage and unbearable desire Bellna was sending through me, kicking and struggling as if I really expected to get loose, silently cursing Fallan for playing the game his own way. Using his own rules there was no way he could lose, which was, of course, the whole point.

  "And so much for the last of the clothing of a Princess," Fallan said, drawing off the lace undies from my legs and tossing them away. "When once you have dressed again, Missy, you will be no more than a servant to a princess. You need not be concerned over recalling such a novel position; I have already seen to the matter to assure your memory of the thing. Hurry now, wenches, and assist the new Princess in dressing."

  The three girls who had been helping Fallan turned immediately to the redhead, who was already beginning to get out of her clothes. Fallan's knee continued to keep me face down in the dirt and grass, which was playing hell with my struggle to stay in control.

  Bellna was terribly aware of how close Fallan was while she lay there stark naked. I could feel the heat all over my body from her embarrassment, and could also feel her out-of-control arousal. She kept expecting Fallan to touch her in some way, preferably intimately, but the redhead was hurriedly laced and stuffed into my sweaty clothes and nothing like that happened. I tried to make myself aware of how good it felt to be out of clothing, but Bellna's sense of humiliation was too strong to overcome. I squirmed under Fallan's knee in silent protest, inwardly cursing Fallan and Bellna, but it wasn't what one might consider an effective effort.