by Marie Hall
"Xavier?" It was Jon's urging which brought him around to see everyone was headed toward the side yard now as calls for Io went out into the darkening sky.
"Where did she go?" Xavier asked, stepping outside. Everything he could see said this side of the yard was closed off by a high wall, but Io was nowhere to be seen.
"She went through here, my lord." Samuel pointed then led the way to a portion of the wall covered in thick vines. Grabbing a handful, he drew them back to reveal a portal. He then pointed to the ground. "She must have just followed the path."
Xavier looked down and then looked back, and true enough, there was a line of broken stone leading right to this wall. A call went up that Io was captured, and Xavier headed toward the sound of the men coming back.
He stayed on the stone path that wound through a wider garden area, but he didn't find out where it went as Luther and Gerald were headed toward him with a semi limp and soaking wet Io.
"She went down in the creek," Luther said.
"She fell in?" Xavier asked, stepping up to collect Io against him. She was shaking and crying quietly.
"No, she got to the end of the path and stepped in then … sat down… lay down," Gerald said, concern and curiosity on his voice.
"Io?" Xavier called, trying to help her get her feet under her.
"I cannot be here, I cannot be here," she chanted.
"Io?" Xavier tried again to make her stand, and then he bent and lifted her.
"No, I cannot be here. Please, I will be what you want; take me back," Io said against his shoulder. She repeated it until he stepped back through the doorway of the house, and the moment he set her down, she screamed, "I cannot be here." She tried to run back out.
Xavier, anticipating the move, hadn't let go her arm. "Io, stop. Settle," he urged, tightening his grip when she almost slipped away.
"I cannot be here."
"She is hysterical," Mark noted out loud. The look he gave Xavier said he needed to act. Any other woman, or a man, for that matter, would get slapped, and just as a start. But he couldn't do it.
"Io," Xavier growled and yanked her hard, so she stumbled into his chest. He was fast to shift how he held her and then brought his palm down with some force on her arse. The act made her go still and Xavier improved his hold. "Io," he said into her ear, "you settle now or right here, where everyone can see it happen, I will lift your skirts and thrash you soundly." She gasped then sobbed, but she was bringing herself under control. "Yes, now, settle. Settle."
With one last gasp, she turned against him, wrapped her arms around his neck, and wept.
"Take her above stairs," Jon said and picked the tipped bench up so Xavier could pass without tripping. "Get dry, Io." He reached out and stroked the back of her head. "We will get you some cider."
Xavier didn't think she really comprehended what the man was saying, but she nodded and let Xavier lift her again. He carried her to the large chambers they'd share and stood her before the dark hearth. It wasn't a cold evening, and drenched, Io's skin wasn't chilled to the touch, but she shook. Her teeth knocked together, and her color wasn't right. He tugged at the laces of her gown and loosened them enough, all she had to do was pull her arms free. "Undress and get dry, love," he said, moving to start a fire, It took several minutes, but not until he had it going and looked back, did he see Io starting to strip the sodden dress away. He stepped around her to grab a fur from their piles of belongings before stepping up to help her get naked. He couldn't even enjoy the sight as she kept her head down and continued to mutter she couldn't be here. She was stiff as he wrapped her up and forced her closer to the fire. Leaving her again, he collected several blankets and spread them out on the bed. Trying to get her to walk that far was impossible and he ended up carrying her to the bed.
A knock at the door startled them both. "Hold," Xavier called out and, finding one more fur, tossed it over Io. "Come."
Mark peeked around the door and Xavier waved him in. "Here are some drink and hot water." He set both on a small table then pulled some clean rags from his tunic. "Any better?" he asked, his eyes going to the bed then back to him.
Xavier could only shake his head and send a pleading look at his friend. This man was the first to break through when Io did everything to hold herself away. He knew how to speak so Io, so anyone, felt at ease. It was why he was so great an interrogator. Mark had no answer for him this time, though.
"Maybe some rest," he suggested then signaled he'd be waiting to speak once she was asleep. Only she didn't, not until past midday the next day, after her voice faded from her unrelenting insistence she couldn't be here and exhaustion won out. Mark returned to the room, kneeling down beside the bed where Xavier stayed, holding Io.
"Sleeping now?" he asked.
"Sleep? More that she is passed out," Xavier told him with a heavy sigh.
"Did she give any indication coming to court distressed her so?"
"She had several concerns, but we spoke on them. She seemed satisfied, confident… I do not know." He started rubbing Io's back when she spoke in her sleep saying all she'd said for a full day.
"I wonder if it is not a response to being set into a new house? Maybe her worry is a habit?"
"I know she knows I will not abandon her here."
"It may not be she believes you will, only that she does not know any other way to feel about it. Like most things, she must experience it differently before she understands it," Mark said, rubbing his hand over his face. "Again, it could be habit more than anything."
"Such a habit will be hard to break," Xavier said, but the theory gave him hope. He'd broken Io of a number of habits. Most by doing as Mark said, letting her experience something different.
"It will, but I will guess if you can convince her to accept food and shelter without fear, you will convince her, this is not permanent." He rocked back then stood. "I'll send in some, maybe once she eats, she will regain her confidence."
"Set it there, thank you."
Io woke to Xavier speaking to someone, but with her face turned down in the bed, she couldn't tell who. She felt the bed sag and she rolled a bit toward the dip. Xavier's scent was strong and she breathed it in.
"Io?" His hand settled on her head, and she took a second deep breath of him. "You need to eat a little something."
"Where are we?" she asked and pushed her face into his hip.
"At the house we stay in until we go ho… back to Bainsport." He rolled her to her back, and her stomach rolled with her. Adjusting the pillows, he dragged her back and up so she sat in the pile of cushions. He tucked the furs around her and then turned to sit down very close to her. "I need to say something to you, Io. I need you to listen. Then, when I am done, I want you to say whatever comes to your lips. Even if you think I will not understand, I want you to say it. Do you understand?"
She nodded and swallowed, feeling almost like a wall was being built around her. Something incredibly secure sheltered her.
Xavier took a deep breath, and Io knew it was because he wanted to say something important and he needed to say it right. "I know you are concerned, Io. I can only imagine what all of this feels like for you. Everything you have known must be screaming at you to flee. I know, too, I cannot make that instinct fade with only words." He stopped and pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "I know this, so I will take action."
"Action?"
"Yes," he said, lifting her hand to his lips. "For as long as we are here, Io, you will know you are safe and you will not be left behind." He kissed her knuckles again. "I have made sure everyone knows if for any reason you do not at least hear from me, you are to be packed up and returned to Bainsport. Court is a complicated place and is filled with long waits, but I will make sure to at least send you a message any time I am left standing outside a door. And I will do my best to come back to you as often as possible. I am not going to make you go with me to the palace. I see no reason you need to be there when I will be in sessions with a number
of people about things you cannot contribute on." He shifted on the bed squeezing in behind her and pulling her back to rest against him. "I want you to fill your time with things you will enjoy. I want you to do what you please." He put his chin on her head. "Explore the house and grounds. Go swim. There are many villages and markets all around. Go to them and see what crafts people do there; perhaps they will know something you can take back with you to show our craftsmen. I do know there used to be a candle maker here who could make candles that looked like flowers. If she is still around, you could see how it is done."
She nodded. That could be enjoyable, and the idea she'd have something to take back with her lifted her a bit.
"There is great library here. I will make sure you are given entry. You will have more books than you could ever get through. This time here will pass quickly, Io. It will, and we will leave. No matter what, you will again find yourself at Bainsport. I swear on my honor."
He sounded sure he'd get her back, but there was something so wrong about being here, a dread that wouldn't go. "Xavier?"
"Yes?"
"I am scared."
His arms tightened. "I know, my love, I know. I am going to do everything I can to help you not be. All the men are going to help you."
He would, Io trusted him in that, but it didn't help ease the cold crawling along her spine. But she didn't know what to say to help him help her. It was out of reach for her. Something lingering in the dark. Something she couldn't recall for some reason. She had to say something though, so Xavier had some relief. It was wrong to keep him in distress, even if she was.
"I think I would like to have flower shaped candles," she whispered and felt his arms tighten on her. It'd be enough for now. She'd make it through this the way she made it through everything else. She'd fight, and this time, she had an army backing her.
Chapter 12
Io covered her mouth and tried not to laugh. The artisan who made wax flowers welcomed her to sit and try her hand at it, praising her loudly as she folded and twisted the wax to resemble a rose. The man was less kind, though no less vocal, in his complaints as Samuel, Jon, and Liam tried to work their thick and hardening pillars of wax into anything resembling more than a melted mess. Several others gave up on trying, and Luther wasn't even allowed to sit at the bench after spilling two pots of hot colored wax. It, in some manner, became a competition between the men with only three left in the bid.
Io's giggle slipped when the poor craftsman gave her yet another pleading look to end his torture as he watched the men mutilating the projects. A moment more and Jon sounded a victorious shout and set his creation in the center of the table.
"It almost looks like a… dead fish," the candle maker said. "And that is well enough."
Io's laughter rang out as the other two men frowned at their own candles. "Oh, they are all beautiful," Io soothed, rubbing her hand over Samuel's back. "Thank you ever so much, Master Welts, for the lessons and the candles."
"My lady, I enjoyed your company splendidly and welcome you back anytime you want," the candle maker said. "You," he emphasized as the men took their candles and left the table.
Io laughed again and shook his hand as Mark paid the man for his time and supplies. She carefully placed her flower in her basket and bid good day before making her way back into the streets of the market.
"That was enjoyable," Ian remarked as he helped Io onto Wednesday, causing everyone else to look at him like he was mad. "Well, it was. I will laugh every time I think of how you looked pulling the cooled wax off your skin."
Io again covered her mouth. Several of the men now had bald spots on their arms where the hair was pulled away with the wax. "It was harder than it looked," Io said to try to douse the heated glares Ian was getting from those around him. "I think we all did very well." She sent Samuel a smile when he looked down at his candle.
"We might start back now, my lady," Luther suggested, and Io felt that same pinch in her chest as she did every day they made their way back to the house.
"I think we should stop at the Buck and Dove on the way back," Mark said as he mounted. "Eat there? Get more of that good mead he has."
Io took a relieved breath and forced a smile. The tavern came to be a regular place for them to either start or end their day. The keep was a likeable man who made mead with strong hints of apple in it. It'd be a good way to delay the return to the house. And maybe today, the women wouldn't look at her with such suspicion. They hadn't yet come to see they couldn't distract the men when they were with her. And though she could tell by the looks, some of the men did return when not on duty, the women struggled to understand why men not in the company of their own wives wouldn't want to spend time with them. They all knew it wasn't for lack of funds, as even when Io complained about the waste, the men were free with their coins. Females who normally spent time on their backs, with people they cared nothing for, now made more money bringing drinks to a table once than they made in a whole night doing their profession.
"Perhaps we will find Brice returned," Ian said, and Io felt a hope rise. He'd been gone three days, though he sent her a message each one of them to say he thought of her. Still, without him there, she didn't sleep well and wished only to escape as soon as she could each day.
"We might stop at the smith's shop," Jon said, tucking his wax creation into his bags before mounting. "Those blades should be finished."
Several of the men had left their secondary swords to be sharpened by the smith the first day at the market. The idea of a second delay added to her relief and she happily fell in line as they rode to the smith.
She was admiring the collection of fine daggers when she first felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up as she signaled several men to follow her across the street to the tanner's booth. She couldn't shake the feeling of being intently watched. She heard Jon call out for her, but when she turned, her view was blocked by an older man. Io knew who he was instantly. Twelve years hadn't made her forget him. She stepped back, bumping into the table and almost upsetting it, the soft deer hide she'd been holding slipping from her fingers.
"I thought that was you," Lord Isbon said. "You have grown into quite the woman." He bent down and picked the fur from the ground. "I see you no longer poach to gain your fur."
Io swallowed hard and leaned away as the man who had chained her to a post in his yard for a month reached past her to set the fur back on the table.
"My lady?"
"Such a little huntress you thought yourself to be," Isbon continued.
"My lady?"
"Perhaps now would be a fair time to seek compensation for what you stole from me," he continued and Io tried to slip past him, only to have him step back in front of her. A loud whistle broke up the pounding in her ears.
Before she knew how, she was standing behind Ian, and Lord Isbon was on his arse in the dirt, several blades drawn on him. More blades appeared when his own escorts drew their weapons, only to be met by more of Io's men.
Isbon stood, brushed at his clothes, then turned hate filled eyes on Ian. "How dare you," he sputtered, looking less certain when none of Io's people retreated and more seemed to be coming up. "Do you know who I am?"
"I give no fucks to who you are," Ian snarled. "You will stand back from my lady, or you will stand no more."
"You make threats better left unheard," Isbon warned. "You are no one to me, and this… girl," he spat as he waved his hand towards Io. "Is in debt to me."
"Lady Io owes no debt to any," Mark stepped up and pulled Io, who was being cut across the back by the edge of the table to his side. "Who are you to make such a claim?"
"Lord Isbon," Io whispered.
"You see, she knows who I am, knows the truth I speak."
"Isbon of Loire?" Jon asked. "How do you know the lady?"
"She stayed a time with a neighbor near my home. Liked to poach rabbit and dove from my lands, once even tried to take a stag," the man said, reaching for Io past the men pro
tecting her. "I caught you that time, did I not? You paid for that theft."
Io could feel the tears spill over. Turning, she pressed against Mark who put his arm around her.
"Is it you then, caring for her now?" Isbon asked, his dismissive tone as familiar as when she heard him tell Lord Penth unless he paid for Io killing the stag, the very stag he was hunting, the one he ate himself, he wouldn't be setting her free from the chain.
"Lady Io is my liege's wife. She is under our protection. If you have a dispute with the lady, you can take it up with him. We will send him to you," Jon said. "You will not approach Lady Io again."
Io wondered at the way it sounded so completely final, but she'd no chance to question it as she was put back up on her horse and they resumed their ride toward the tavern as if little of note occurred.
They did their best to keep her spirits up, but the feeling of dread was strong. Even finding Xavier waiting at the gates did little to lift it. Waking to find him missing from their bed almost ended her.
Xavier held out his hands for the water poured from the skins then splashed his bare chest several times to wash the blood away. The shirt he'd worn would need to be well laundered before Io saw it again.
"Lord Brice, I beg you let me go."
Xavier was slow to turn back to the man bound to a tall post. The sun was barely up, and already it was shining on him in this wide open area. How he wished it was already midsummer, rather than spring. But there were a number of ways to make a man suffer under the sun.
Stepping a bit closer, Xavier swatted at the bugs buzzing around his face, attracted to the stench of shit on the naked man. Just rolling him in it before hanging him up wasn't enough for the men with him. They used shovels to fling it on him.
"You cannot do this to me," Isbon cried, though he saw Xavier could do anything he wanted.
"What was she, seven years? Eight?" Xavier asked, making sure to disturb the muck and weeds as much as he could. The bog was already a cesspit. A place for waste to be dumped, it smelt to high heaven. Closing his eyes, he was assaulted with the memory of Io's face when she rushed into his arms and swore she'd not known what she was doing was a crime.