by Marie Hall
"You assure yourself the worst kind of death then," Io said, turning to see other men coming at them. "But as I said, I do not know you, I have no grudge against you. Free me now. And when Xavier finds me, I will tell him the truth, that it was His Highness who took me from him. I will not even speak of you." She spoke faster now. The man was desperate for an escape. She was offering one. She had to get him to take it before he thought of his own way to extract himself. "I will accuse the prince, and Xavier will not be able to respond, which leaves that man still able to pay you the debt he owes. Perhaps more if he is again in favor with his family, and fitting, as he tried to have you murdered."
"Malcolm," one of the others yelled as he tried to pull the man off her. "It is the only way. Leave her. Let us go now. Before the Black Ax of the king falls on us."
Malcolm was pulled off, and as soon as he was on his feet, everyone around started running for their mounts. He stood a moment longer, glaring, before he, too, turned and mounted. They rode away, leaving Io still tied and with no real idea of where she was. The sun was nothing more than a sliver on the western horizon, and she knew they'd been traveling south. She only need find a road and start walking. Xavier and the men would be looking for her. She needed to be where they could find her.
Struggling to sit up, she curled her legs back and stretched awkwardly for her foot. She was never without the small knife, and no one had checked her for weapons. She wasn't quite sure how she'd cut away the ropes, but after several failed and painful attempts, the blade frayed the ropes enough, she pulled loose. Her arms were cut, but it wasn't a concern. Tucking the useful tool back in her boot, Io turned and fled in the direction she thought would best place her in the path of Xavier.
She wasn't wrong to put that trust in him, for several hours past the moon rise, Mark and his small search party rode past where she'd hidden until she knew who approached. They'd stopped and Io heard the man's voice giving directions. Everyone's relief was short lived, though, when Io was settled behind Mark on his pretty tan horse and they turned back toward the main group.
Muttered comments about how angry Xavier was when he found her missing couldn't be outdone by any assurances he'd be nothing but joyous at her safe return. No, Io felt it all the way in her soul. Xavier would again remind her why he was a man to be feared. And even as she prepared for it, she couldn't have made herself ready for what he brought down on her.
Chapter 3
Xavier stepped back into the tavern, wiping water from his face. It was well past dark and no one had managed to catch up to Io.
When the man, Harris from the Prince's party, came to him and told him Io was taken and once Xavier's hands were pried off his neck so he could explain the event and what led up to it, he knew he had, once again, failed to take Io's concerns to heart. At least this time, though, it wasn't only him. She'd done as he asked and spoken to others, but they, too, hadn't given her the answers she needed.
And even as he again told himself all this, it did nothing to soothe the complete anger he felt for the way she'd manipulated him to gain her way. It didn't make him feel less the fool for not realizing exactly what she'd done from the moment they'd stopped here to wait out the rain. Harris spoke only to save his own skin, Xavier was sure of that, but as he did, the man never put any of the blame on Io.
No matter how much he explained what he imposed was for her safety, she always took issue and defied him. From the very first days, she'd done it. But then they were heading home, to people he knew, or thought he knew, wouldn't hurt her. He'd been so wrong. And perhaps that was why she doubted he acted for any other reason than her wellbeing.
Again, even this reasoning didn't make him want to strangle her any less. If anything, her defiance in this situation, with all the logic he attached to it, only made his anger and disappointment more acute. She didn't trust him enough to come right out and tell him what matters bothered her so as to make things he did so distressing to her.
She might have simply said the prince was telling her lies about how the king would find her unfit to be his wife because of all the precautions taken. Had she said that, Xavier could've reassured her, and more importantly, he could've forced the little rat to be silent. Only Io hadn't said that. She'd asked his reason behind not letting her travel out of sight of her escort. She'd asked if he believed her incapable of taking care of herself. She asked if he tried to hide her out of shame. For Heaven's sake, out of shame? How she thought that, he didn't know.
The sound of a throat being cleared turned his focus back to the large room. It was well lit for the late hour, and though about half the men with him slept now, waiting to again start the search, many more stood around the table where a hasty map of the area was drawn. Harris gave Xavier the location where the prince first encountered rebellion in his ranks. Only about three of the men with him understood what he'd planned when he'd taken Io. The others thought it only to be a prank. Io was be let go a few minutes or a few miles after they grabbed her. Learning he'd other plans didn't sit well and the group disbanded. Of all of them, only Harris rode back to alert Xavier. He still sat at the far end of the room, a tankard in his hands held low between his knees, head down, one foot tapping nervously on the floor. His association with the prince, likely his last opportunity to make it to court.
Xavier left him there and searched the room for others. Everyone was to be back before sunrise. They'd regroup and try again. Lucas and his group were not back, and neither was Mark. Gerald stepped back from the table and waved him over, holding out a cup of warm wine. He'd no stomach for it. Or for the plate pushed at him.
"No sign of her?" Rigatos asked. The men from their party joined the search as well, though they seemed confused over the matter.
"You still believe she escaped her captors?" Balbroke asked.
"Why else haven't we received word?" Garret asked. "If she's being held, someone wants something."
Xavier's gut twisted. Harris did seem sure Io was going to be ransomed. The prince owed a debt to a man who wasn't bound by an oath and might not care if he murdered royalty. It was the waiting to see if a message arrived, which had them further behind now. That it didn't come yet might be more a matter of whoever held her wanting to draw it out, drive up what Xavier would pay. Most had more faith in Io's own abilities. That she might have escaped and was already coming back, kept up the morale. Not a single man let the thought she was already dead enter his mind. A thought Xavier shamefully considered at first and still. The prince was a dishonorable, disrespectful cur and those he associated with even more so. He wasn't capable of keeping control of any situation, and Xavier struggled to hold on to the hope he might have planned anything so well as to keep innocent bystanders like Io safe. So until something proved him wrong, Xavier wouldn't let that whisper get too loud.
"She may have found some place to take shelter," Whitby suggested.
"She knows as a woman alone, the roads are safer late at night. She is moving," Luther said.
"Safer?" Whitby gasped at the idea.
"Io is no fool when it comes to traveling," Xavier ground out, silencing the discussion. He reached out and slid the parchment closer. Several smaller roads leading to the scattered shires in the area were sketched out.
"We have covered most of everything in the direction she was headed, but that doesn't mean they did not turn at some point." Roth's finger traced along the line on the paper. There was no detail in the map. Lucas was part of the search and the area wasn't as familiar as others. They were working blind.
"Our best hope is she finds us. Or come morning, we—"
"We have her," Ansell yelled, coming through the door. "We have her. She is well." The man barely stepped aside before the rush out crushed him. "Mark is bringing her up," Ansell added when a number of men came back inside with questioning looks. "He is not coming at a gallop." Nervous chuckles followed, and torches were pulled from the walls to light the grounds.
Xavier watched Ansell turn
to look at him. The relief he felt was heavier than he expected. Only by leaning on the table, did he manage not to crumple to the floor. He could fully believe now that it wouldn't be a blade that ended him, but the very woman he was wed to would kill him with fear and worry.
Damn it, though, he wouldn't go down without a fight. Drawing on that anger he was feeling moments ago, he pushed upright and took his first step toward his wife. He reached the door only to have Ansell step in his path. "We are not bringing her back alive, just to allow you to do her murder," he said flatly.
"If I wanted her dead, I would not have searched for her," Xavier stated. "What I do now, you will not interfere." Ansell nodded then stepped aside. Xavier knew how this would play out would come as no surprise to anyone. He was nothing, if not consistent, when it came to dealing with Io's rebellion.
Stepping through the crowd, Xavier was there when Mark set Io on the ground. Again, relief nearly took him down, but the very brief moment Io was able to meet his eyes, he knew she knew she'd been completely wrong in her actions. He took the first step toward, her only to be grabbed by Jon, who stepped up to keep the words between them.
"Do not let anger command your hand," Jon warned.
"Do not hope it will not have a voice in this reckoning," Xavier told him before jerking his arm free and marching over to his wife.
He heard a sob, heard her whispered apology, but she wouldn't look at him. Turning, he took the first torch in reach, and grabbing her arm, he started them toward the stable area. He'd not make the same mistake again. Last time her own actions ended in her being taken, he'd let humiliation be the worst part of the punishment. This time, she'd not forget his displeasure as soon as the crowds cleared.
The stables were not crowded, not with all the animals still waiting to be used in the search. Xavier crossed to the first vacant one and flung Io inside. She stumbled and tripped before hitting the back wall. But other than gasps and sniffs, she made no sound. He left her to light two oil lamps, tossing the torch a safe distance to be extinguished in a puddle. In the light, her pale color and trembling was noticeable. Turning, he took a deep breath and willed his resolve to hold. A dozen or so men formed a wall of sorts, back turned away from the stalls; again, they'd listen but wouldn't bear witness. Xavier searched two other stalls before he found a barrel that would serve his purpose and he rolled it in, stood it on end and pointed.
"Bend." His sharp command made her jump, and for the first time, she met and held his stare. Her pleading eyes begged him to not end this as she had to expect he would.
"Please, my lord—"
"Lift your skirts and bend," Xavier ordered as he sorted through long lengths of harness leather hanging over the dividing walls.
"Please, Xavier, it was not my intent that—"
Snatching up the very next length that came to hand, Xavier turned to face her. "It was not your intent? You did not plan to manipulate me? Did not plan to purposefully defy me? Was it also not your intent to jeopardize your safety? Jeopardize the safety of everyone who took to the road, in the dark, to seek you out?" Again, he took hold of her, this time jerking her away from the wall and positioning her so once she bent, he'd have room to swing his arm. "I will not have this from you. And it is my intent to ensure you never forget that. Now raise your skirts and bend," he all but snarled that last. It was enough, though, to drive Io to obey. She bent, taking hold of the hem of her dress, lifting, as she still quietly begged him to listen to her. When she hesitated to bend, he placed a hand between her shoulders and pushed. She went over hard enough to tip the barrel a bit, which forced her hands out and her skirts to fall. Yanking them back over her back, Xavier took hold of her hips and set her at a better angle to receive this lashing. "Please, Xavier, please wait, hear me," she cried as he drew back his arm.
"I am about to," he warned.
"Please, it was not my fault." Io's last desperate attempt to stay his hand only fueled his disappointment and thus his anger. The length of leather landed with a crack that echoed in the night, silenced only by Io's pained scream. The second stroke landed nearly on top of the first and the angry welt lifted. Five more strokes, five more welts, and still, Xavier found no satiation, no compassion. Io's screams became choked and she was struggling to move out of reach, perhaps get off the barrel. Wrapping the length around his fist, Xavier stepped closer, placed his hand at the small of her back and let loose with a long series of shorter, harder stokes. He covered her arse and backs of her thighs from hips to knees then returned to deliver several more to the fullest part of her seat. Io now screamed both in pain and anticipation of pain. Garbled words, pleas, came any time more than a few heartbeats passed between when he laid on the last and the next. And then nothing.
At almost the exact time, Xavier found himself unable to again draw back his arm. Io sagged, sobbing over the barrel. No more kicking and twisting, she lay spent, gasping for breath and wailing out her misery when she'd catch it enough to do so.
He'd wreaked havoc on his wife's flesh in a manner he'd not done in some time, and while he knew she was duly punished, believed his actions justified and prayed it'd influence Io to obedience, he found no satisfaction at all.
And he knew it was because he still lacked her full trust. Two years of doing all he could to cultivate it, and still, those plants wouldn't bloom fully. She would always be susceptible to influence by others. He didn't know why. He only guessed at the reasons. But given what they were about to head into, he resolved to do far more to step in before it led Io into danger.
And it might have been the doubt that had him pulling Io off the barrel more violently than he meant, even realizing that didn't stop him from giving no consideration to her stumbling progress as he all but dragged her back inside the tavern and shoved her down on one of the abandoned pallets to cry. "Stay," he commanded, "I still have this." He raised the fist around which the makeshift strap was still wound. "And I will use it again." She didn't look up, and a few more moments of him staring down at her ended with him turning to step away.
As soon as he did, though, Roth made to step toward her, and he made a large movement to block him. "No." He watched the man's rebellion rise in his features, but then Mark stepped up and held out a blanket, nodding to Io on the floor.
Xavier let the coils fall loose and, handing Mark the strap, took the blanket. His movements were pointed and the blanket covered Io with less tenderness than anyone was used to, but the act was enough to cause Roth to stand down.
Yes, he was angry, and he'd punished Io harshly, but he'd always be willing to care for her. His people knew that; they only needed reminding. Maybe he did, too.
With the room again filled with everyone from his and Balbroke's parties, Xavier looked hard to find the man he wanted. "Chandler," he called, moving to the table where the map and writing supplies sat. Taking up the quill, he flipped the map over and wrote out his short, pointed message. He signed his name boldly then handed the message over. "You will leave at first light. At this time of year, I expect the family is at Duexmount. You need not wait for a reply."
"Yes, my lord," the man said, stuffing the parchment in his shirt and turning away.
"Tattling?" Whitby taunted. "So unlike you."
"Warning," Xavier ground out. "A man should be able to plan a funeral. That is what will happen when I catch his son."
"Sir Brice," Balbroke bellowed.
"Lord Brice," someone in the room corrected.
"You cannot make threats," Balbroke went on, a little less forcefully.
"It is not a threat; should he get within my reach, I will end that pig's life and celebrate the act when it is done," Xavier said with a calm that should have given warning.
"You cannot—" Balbroke was cut off when Xavier grabbed the edge of the table and flipped it over.
"You will not tell me what I can and cannot do," Xavier yelled, causing everyone to step back. "I am not at your command, and you will remember that, or you, too, can be f
orgotten in a grave. Had you not insisted that useless bag of flesh be allowed to travel with us, we would not be here now. From here out, remember you travel with me at my pleasure, not the other way around." Heading for the door, he paused long enough only to tell everyone to be ready to leave at first light, then he stepped out into the night where he'd be able to give in to the wretched pain gripping his heart.
Chapter 4
Io nearly tripped when she came around the corner and found Xavier glaring at her. Jon's hand on her elbow gave her no comfort or confidence in the face of Xavier's lingering anger. His display last night told her he wasn't yet ready to let it pass, and that he was gone until this moment disallowed her taking advantage of a few brief moments when she felt she might approach him.
She needed to tell him all of what had transpired. She wanted him to know she'd learned the lessons. Mostly, she wanted to tell him she was scared. To hear him reassure her the fear was unfounded. Hear him lecture her to keep her escort close. She knew the last, but she wanted him to say the words to her again.
She let Jon lead her to the wagon. He'd stepped away to pull out the steps so she might get in when Xavier stepped up.
"Where were you?" She lost her voice at his sharp tone and the burn of tears filled her eyes and throat.
"I took her to the use the jakes," Jon informed him.
"I asked where were you?" Xavier said as if he'd not heard Jon.
"Xavier, please, I…" Io lifted her arm and wiped her eyes on her sleeve.
"What?" he bellowed, and she jumped. "You are to go nowhere… nowhere," he was emphatic, "without your full escort."
"Please, my lord—" Io tried again.
"Do you understand?"