A Swithin Spin: A Princely Passion (8 page)

“Antal’s always been so self-assured. I’ve admired him. I’ve never seen him so out of sorts before. I can’t help wondering if…” Words failed him, and then clarity rushed in. “Uly’s looking for his rightful place in the world. Love isn’t enough. He’s seeking a way to be his own person as well.”

“What does Uly’s state of mind have to do with Antal?”

Good question, but Kilan saw the connection clearly. While Uly didn’t have to work, he wasn’t and didn’t want to be nothing other than Markis’s lover. He wasn’t a fighter. He was skilled enough, but he didn’t want to become a guard. He lacked the temperament for battle, and besides, the necessary training and subsequent duty would take him away from Markis for too long a time span. Markis’s duties were enough to contend with in that respect. So Uly had taken steps to find what he
was
good at. He’d continued his education -- something his previous life hadn’t allowed for -- flitting from subject to subject in many respects but gradually weaning them down to things that genuinely captured his interest. Begrudgingly, Kilan admitted that maybe he could learn something from Uly.

“I thought maybe just Uly felt that way, especially being as he’s from another race. Then to see that Antal is floundering… Well, I guess I couldn’t help but liken what’s happening to them to my own situation. I’m a prince. I’m studying the comet. I’m happy to live in Markis’s shadow, but as to who I am and what I want from life…” He shrugged.

“That doesn’t mean you won’t find your rightful place by Markis’s side or that you won’t finally find some duty that suits you. It’s not a question of others not having faith in you but rather a question of you having enough faith in yourself, something you and Antal appear to have in common.”

Kilan blinked. He opened his mouth to argue, but nothing emerged. As for what Ryanac had said about Antal, he carefully filed that away. “It’s not just that,” he added. “Truth is, I need more fulfillment. Something for myself.” It took a great deal of personal strength to finish his line of thought out loud, but he did, felt rather proud of the accomplishment, and then childish for feeling that way.

Ryanac slanted back to regard him. “What makes you think you won’t find that, given time? Or are you genuinely that impatient?”

He was, but that wasn’t the reason. Ryanac’s first comment hit closer to the truth. Kilan believed this was his lot, to drift through his existence, never feeling anchored.

“As prince, even if you’re never to become the Swithin king, at least some of your life has been mapped out for you. Not all of it, though, and you’re particularly lucky in that Markis is more understanding than most. He’ll remind you of your responsibilities when necessary, as will I.”

Ryanac’s tone almost made Kilan shiver despite knowing that although Ryanac meant what he said, he said it without animosity.

“Lucky for you, Markis will let you have a life,” Ryanac added. Kilan met the man’s all-encompassing gaze. “He’ll let you follow your heart.”

Kilan didn’t know what his heart wanted. Despite this, the truth of Ryanac’s words suddenly came home to him. He
was
lucky: lucky to have Markis in his life, as his ruler, as his sibling. He was lucky to
have
Markis period. Markis represented hope for the Swithin, freedom for all, and even though that applied to the populace, it had never pertained to the royal line before. Kilan was the Swithin prince, but he could also be something else. He could be a guard, scholar, artist, physician, laborer, farmer, husband, and father if he so chose. Markis would allow -- no,
insist
-- that he marry for love instead of duty. He could have a life. As long as he didn’t disregard his duty to the realm, he could have a life alongside his royal responsibilities. Kilan couldn’t help the smile that manifested. It just crept over his face. No doubt that smile looked a little rueful. He could have and do practically anything if only he knew what he wanted.

“Give yourself time,” Ryanac told him as if he’d understood that smile. “Don’t waste any more of it listening to me. Get out of here. Go. Have some fun.”

Kilan nodded but had one more question. He risked much asking it, but he knew Ryanac well, and the man didn’t just leave papers lying out on top of his desk. Ryanac understood people more than they liked him to. It suddenly entered Kilan’s mind that telling him to leave Antal alone was sure to guarantee that was the one thing he wouldn’t do. He wasn’t sure he cared for Ryanac analyzing him so well, but he couldn’t resist testing the theory. “If I wanted to take off for a few days, maybe just… Oh, I don’t know. Go hike in the woods maybe. Do you think Markis would mind? Would you tell him not to worry where I am?”

That dark gaze twinkled while studying him. If the man felt amused, he kept it from his expression, but even so, Kilan sensed that the moment he walked out of the room and the door closed behind him, Ryanac would erupt into laughter.

“I can’t imagine why you would want to go hiking, but I’ve just got through telling you you’re a free man. Now get out of here before I change my mind.”

Chapter Five

As fluid as he was with a sword in his hand, Antal couldn’t match Ryanac as a woodsman. Ryanac held many titles, one of them being
Silas
, meaning forest dweller. The man knew how to survive in rough terrain and was the epitome of stealth.

As Antal slipped and made a wild grab for a nearby tree to stop himself tumbling over and almost landing flat on his face for a third time, he looked around, a little embarrassed, even if nothing but a few birds and squirrels watched. The
caw
of a nearby crow sounded rather similar to laughter.

“If I had wings, I’d laugh too,” Antal muttered. In his defense, the slope was brutal. Last night he’d camped just a few miles from the glade. He’d considered carrying on -- one
could
reach the glade in less than a day -- but now he felt glad he’d stopped when he had. He might have broken his neck in the dark. His reason had been personal. He’d wanted to recover from the day’s hike, reach the glade refreshed. No chance of reaching it refreshed now. He sweated profusely. Ryanac should have at least warned him he’d find the hike difficult.

It crossed his mind to wonder what else Ryanac had failed to warn him about.

* * *

“
I found it…intriguing
.”

If Ryanac had ever said anything inadequate, that was it. Antal had stumbled into the clearing approximately an hour ago. Feeling irritable, he’d avoided uncovering the statue a while longer. Instead, he’d tackled setting up camp, locating the nearby cave that every visitor used. Accumulated goods and provisions made the cave homely. Several pallets lay spread out on the ground, and there were even a few chairs, including those set out at the entrance. From there one could sit sheltered from the weather and still cast an eye on the outside world.
Where you could still look at the statue…

There was also a rudimentary table with several utensils and wooden platters laid out. Antal set his food supply there. A fresh water source nearby meant only food was a concern. He’d brought bread, cheese, dried meats, and biscuits, all wrapped in cloth and then an oiled paper, the scent of which would deter insects and at worst give the bread a citrus tang. He spread his bedroll on one of the pallets, which would feel considerably more comfortable than using it on the forest floor as he’d had to do the previous night. Next he set his pack aside. All it contained was a change of clothes and some soaps, oils…
lubricants.

It also contained the small book. Ryanac had returned it to him. Apparently, Ryanac had indeed found something useful in the pages, something that would help Markis wed outside of his union to the Swithin queen. Usually any and all involved in an extended relationship married each other; however in this instance Uly especially didn’t want to wed Tressa, any more than she wanted to marry Uly, and it had nothing to do with not liking each other. Tressa struggled with some aspects of the Swithin life, and Uly… Uly just didn’t want to marry a woman no matter how much he cared for her. Markis had been looking for a way to change their laws for months now, and something in the small book had led Ryanac to further research. Antal hoped the search succeeded, for he would be delighted if that was all that came of this. If his feeling out of sorts, purloining a book, and coming on this ridiculous venture… If all it did was lead to happiness for others, then that was all to the good.

Antal closed his eyes, taking a deep, steadying breath. He was only delaying the inevitable. He hadn’t come all this way just to sleep here for one night and then return home. He rose up and walked out of the cave, taking the opportunity to cast his gaze up to the blue sky peeking through the overhead branches of the trees, of the towering trees themselves, and the sweeping dip of the glade. The day was warm, the air just the right side of cool. This place demanded peace and meditation; Ryanac had that right. Antal contemplated that he could happily spend a few days here, just on his own, just being quiet. He tried telling himself that the sculpture was now unimportant, but that was a lie. Curiosity burned in him like acid. The time had arrived to look at the statue.

Ethereal, otherworldly, inhuman, and eerie: these were all things that passed through his mind. He struggled to remember crossing the clearing, hesitating at the figure’s side, raising a hand, pulling at the cover. Had he untied the four loops and the encircling rope that held the canvas cover in place? He must have. As far as he knew, the elements never seemed to mar the figure, but the Swithin covered the statue as a precaution. Antal had expected to struggle with the heavy canvas, but instead the waxed fabric had slipped to the side with ease. Where it might have caught, the wind seemed to know; the breeze kicked up and blew, lifting the canvas as though nature offered a helping hand.

“Beautiful,” Antal whispered, but the word didn’t fit. Beautiful didn’t even come close to it.

“
I told you, whatever they created the statue from, it’s incredible to the touch. Trust me, Antal. You don’t want to go through life never having touched that thing
.”

Ryanac had said that, and Antal
wanted
to touch it. He just couldn’t. Glancing down at his hands, he frowned upon seeing that dirt marred his skin. He wiped his hand on his jerkin, at once knowing that even if the statue were sentient, it wouldn’t mind a little soil with his touch, but he wasn’t going to do it. He would touch it before he left. That he now knew, but he couldn’t lay a hand on it before bathing. No Swithin went to a lover without bathing first, and the thought almost made Antal laugh. Was that how he was seeing this thing -- as a lover?

He wasn’t sure about that, but he would touch it. He
had
to, just…not yet. For now, he circled the figure, traversing the stone platform upon which it lay. Indeed, he now saw that it didn’t lie atop the platform as he’d believed, but was part of it, the whole thing one solid construction. He found the emotions that flooded through him disturbing, but he did his best to ignore the ensuing fear. Never had he wanted something so much as right now, and right now he wanted to…

He wanted to kiss the statue’s lips, the eyes. He wanted to stroke each clearly defined muscle, to run his fingers over it from the shapely ankle to the slightly bent knees. From there over the thighs, up over the hips and to the chest, the shoulders, the arms, this time sweeping downward until…

Antal closed his eyes. The statue’s erection was undeniably impressive.

Kilan didn’t know what he’d expected when he’d followed Antal into the woods, but what he watched exceeded his expectations. He’d taken the opportunity while Antal had been in the cave to circle around and locate a good vantage point. He didn’t like the idea of having to spend another night in the open, but he could hardly ask Antal if he could share the cave. He also suspected that Antal had brought better provisions, but Kilan, needing to travel light in order to catch up, had made do with a healthy supply of drinking water and strips of… Well, he didn’t know what to call them. It wasn’t meat. The strips were dried, compacted bars, high in nutrients but barely palatable. The Swithin used them on long journeys, and really a two-day trip out in the woods wasn’t reason enough to eat such provisions, but he’d snatched a handful, convinced they would be adequate. Now he no longer felt certain. He longed for a share of the food that Antal would have packed with care and attention. He’d also forsaken a bedroll for a mere blanket, unprepared for how cold it could get during the night. He’d not accounted for the landscape being cooler the deeper into the dense woodland one traveled. Begrudgingly, he considered that he should have paid better attention while at the academy. At least he could climb a tree well.

Leaving his pack at the base, Kilan swung up onto the first branch. Alas, he couldn’t undertake the climb silently. He paused to listen, only moving again when the silence satisfied him that Antal was still in the cave. He worked his way up into the tree until he found a branch that would hold him and provide a good viewpoint. From here, he could see the path leading into the cave, so he would see when Antal emerged. More importantly, he could view the clearing that contained the statue. He settled down to wait.

Antal took so long in the cave that Kilan grew impatient. His gaze became unfocused while he dealt as best he could with his ensuing boredom. Finally, he caught a flash of auburn hair.
At last
. Antal made an appearance, stopping to look upward. Kilan grimaced. Why look at the sky when there was something far more interesting down in the glade? As Antal continued to gaze around the clearing, Kilan’s impatience intensified. His reaction mystified him, but even as he tried to turn his mind to why he wanted to spy on Antal, Kilan stifled a giggle. Never one to enjoy self-examination, Kilan turned his mind to the anticipated entertainment. The idea that Antal might have sex with the statue predominated, driving thoughts of his emotions back and pulling his lust to the fore. He expected and hoped to see something stunning. He’d have time to consider his emotions later. This was too much fun, and Kilan fell back on old habits. He shook his head every time Antal hesitated, silently urging him to
get on with it
. The moment Antal pulled back the cover that concealed the statue silenced Kilan’s merriment. Shame washed in.