by Marie Hall
How she managed not to scream she didn't know, but as she tried to put distance between her and the horse Mark tried to keep them close. She was going to be stomped or…
"Io." Xavier's sharp tone cut into her thoughts and though his grip was painful, she was thankful he was pulling her from Mark and his mount. "Io, what is the matter with you?"
"Let me go. We need to keep going if you will reach your house before the snows come," Io said, extracting her arm from his hold as he loosened his grip.
"Io, if you are hurt—"
"I am not. Let us go." She tried again to start down the road only to again be blocked by Mark and his damn horse. How had she once thought his to be such a beautiful animal? The light brown with almost blond tail and mane. She'd teased him once his horse looked too girlish to be a real battle animal. He'd returned her tease with a reminder that girls fight too.
Now, Io found nothing at all pretty about it. She knew such animals were trained to stomp and kick until a person was dead. She knew too they didn't need to do more than pitch someone off to end their life. She for one wasn't going to be such a victim.
"Io," Xavier said from right behind her. "If you are not feeling well, ride in the wagon. We will stop midday, if you feel better then you can—"
"No," she was as emphatic as she could be. She didn't want to be in the wagon because she wanted to think. She wanted to sort things in her mind. She needed to be walking to do that, not riding in the wagon, asleep.
"Io, you cannot walk if you are not well. You gave me your word you would not be stubborn about such a thing. Ride for a while and rest, then we can—" Xavier's tone was even enough and she saw nothing deceptive about his expression. But he was so insistent she couldn't help wonder if he'd some plan to end her while she was in the vehicle. Perhaps send it charging down the road to tip over and crush her. If he couldn't get her under his horse's hooves… She looked up at that moment to see Mark leaning over to say something in his ear.
"Io, if not the wagon, ride with me." He gestured towards his horse. "You can ride behind me or I can put the saddle in the wagon and you can ride up front."
"I do not ride." What was he all about now? He couldn't seriously think she'd ever in this life get on a horse.
"Io, I know you miss Wednesday. Your loyalty is admirable, but horses are lost all the time and you need to start riding again." He didn't quite touch her but his hands hovered near as he seemed to be trying to herd her towards his mount.
"I do not ride, my lord." Io twisted to the side and stepped past Xavier only to step right into the flanks of Mark's horse. She cried out before she could clamp her lips shut and rushed back the way she came. She again folded her arms around her and, keeping her chin tucked, tried to think which move to make next.
"Io, ride with me?" Gerald asked, bringing his horse up beside her. "Maybe you can help me with the words to another song."
"I do not ride, sir." Io sniffed and wiped her eyes on her shoulder. Breathing became a little harder as the space she stood in became smaller. She didn't want to experience this struggle for air again but they continued to crowd her.
"Io, why do you say this?" Mark asked, keeping the tension on his reins so his horse made circles on the road and Io couldn't quite follow or anticipate where it might step next or if it might charge. "You ride. You ride quite well. You rode all the way home from the Forks. You rode your horse almost every day, did you not, when you were home?"
"There is no such place," Io muttered. She wasn't going to be tricked again. She wasn't going to believe. "I do not ride."
"Io, enough," Xavier said, taking her by the arm and dragging her towards his horse. "You ride with me."
Panic gave her strength and Io pulled free and retreated to a place on the road less crowded with the big dangerous animals. "I do not ride," she said and heard her voice cracking. Why did they insist, what plan did they devise to end her now? "I do not ride."
"Io." Her name was now a warning from him. He was out of patience and it wouldn't end well.
"I do not…" Wait, no that wasn't want she needed to say. Do not was her being unreasonable, but… "I cannot ride. I cannot." There now she said it correctly. Now he couldn't force her because now she'd said it the way he needed to hear it.
"What do you mean you cannot? Why can you not ride?" Xavier asked but she saw him looking past her. She turned her head to see Mark nodding. She couldn't make anything of it so she turned back to look at Xavier.
"I cannot ride, my lord. We should go." Io wanted to be on her way. They wouldn't be able to continue to insist if they were moving.
"Io, you can ride," Jon said, rather matter of factly.
"No, I cannot," Io countered.
"Io, you can too ride. You have permission, you have the skill—"
"No I do not," Io shrieked. "Enough with your lies. I am sick to death of them." How dare he say such things. He must view her as a simpleton to think she'd believe that.
"Io." He grabbed her and turned her around so they faced each other. "Stop this. I have told you no lie, ever. I am sick to death," he said throwing her words back at her, "of being accused of lying when I have not. Now choose who you want to ride with and get mounted."
Io narrowed her eyes at him and saw the slight flush creep up his neck. "I cannot ride. I do not ride. I have said it as you would have me say it that you understand. Now let me go; I will walk."
"Io, you will ride."
"No, I cannot."
"You can, you have done it many times, you know how—"
"I do not."
"Io you do. I taught you."
"You taught me how to ride Wednesday. That was all you taught me and she is gone and I do not ride because I cannot ride. I will not ride." She pulled so hard to get free she tripped backwards several steps once he let go.
"Io." He sounded like something just occurred to him. "Io, the skill of riding is not limited to only one horse. You can use it on any horse you choose."
"More lies." She wasn't going to be fooled. She wasn't going to let him do this to her.
"For the love of…" Xavier scrubbed at his face with both hands then dropped them to his sides before taking a breath. "Io, there is no difference in riding one horse or another. It is all the same skill and you have that skill."
"No, no, I do not."
"Io, this is ridiculous. Of course you do."
"No. No, I do not and I will not believe in your lies again."
"Io, I am not lying, you have the skill—"
Io bent down, pushed aside her cloak and grabbing the hem of her skirts in both hands, yanked them up to her hip. She turned her foot in and rotated her hip out. There wasn't a chance he didn't see the very proof he spoke false, but to make sure she pointed directly at the line of scars marring the outer side of her thigh. "This," she yelled and indicated the jagged almost circular discolored skin. "This proves you lie. You lie. All you do is lie."
***
For the life of him Xavier couldn't comprehend what he was seeing. The once flawless, creamy skin of his wife's leg now looked ravaged. There seemed to be two complete puncture marks on the back and top side of her outer thigh, one long cut across the outer edge, and a final smaller cut that didn't look as serious as the other three injuries.
It was clear too, the wounds had healed. Judging by the way the flesh around the scars lay, he didn't think an iron was used. Someone might have stitched them. Before he could make any further assessment, Io dropped her skirts. He watched the material swish around her feet for a moment before glancing up and meeting her glare.
Proof he lied. She said the injury was proof he lied but about what? And how did she come by such a grievous injury and he didn't know? Did she sustain it when she ran from home? It seemed too well healed and, if he added in the time it'd have taken her to recover, she'd never have made it so far in her attempt to escape him.
As they stared at each other, he could see Io was fighting with something in her head. S
ome matter she struggled to make sense of. Her face turned pale and her blue eyes shimmered with unshed tears but her lips were pressed in a firm angry line.
He took one step towards her only to see her retreat then catch herself and step forward. "Io, how did that happen?" He didn't mean for the words to come out as harsh as they did but not only did she place the blame for what happened on him, he was left completely uninformed. Uninformed again. Uninformed in matters that concerned his wife, her well-being, happiness and certainly, in this matter, her safety.
He saw her start at the question and the tears spilled over when she narrowed her eyes to look at him with the same condemnation and suspicion he got from her ever since he found her. "Answer me. How did you come by such an injury? And why was I not told?" He reached out and grabbed both her arms trying to pull her close and get her into a position he could take a longer look at the scars. But the moment he took hold, the fight was on. Io struggled, kicking and scratching at him. He was aware men were dismounting and coming to aid, but he wasn't sure which of them they meant to help. It didn't matter for the next instant, Io's nails, jagged and sharp from her constant picking at them, cut into the back of his right hand so he pulled it away. It was enough advantage. Io broke free with a jerk so hard she stumbled back. She got her footing before she hit the ground.
"You know how it happened. You were told. You were told and then you made your true desire known to everyone. Well, I will not be forgotten. I will not be tossed into a hole that the world should know I did not exist at all. You will not have that from me," she shrieked the words at him. Her entire being screamed anger, hurt and maybe even fear. But what she said was a lie.
"I do not know what happened. No one told me," Xavier yelled back and advanced towards her.
"More lies from you." This time she came at him and when they were only steps apart, she twisted left, used both her hands, and shoved him hard backwards so he tripped and fell to his arse in the dirt. She continued on her way across the road, down an embankment and into the tree line.
Xavier scrambled up and gave chase. He caught up to her pacing in violent circles in a clearing. The leaves and pine straw were kicked up by her feet which she purposely dragged in spots. She pulled at the stays of the cloak and when the final knot came undone, she whipped it off and threw it to the side. He could hear her muttering but not well enough to understand the words. "Io," he called. Then called again using the firmest tone he could manage "Io." Her words finally making it to his ears.
"He had to know. He had to know. The message said…"
"Io," he damn near bellowed.
She turned perhaps seeing for the first time she was followed. "You know," she screamed at him and then plopped herself down on the wet ground she'd exposed with her pacing. "You know."
He heard her voice hitch. "No, Io, I do not know."
She worked to pull the new boots off and, as soon as she pulled the first off, she sent it flying at him. "You were told. You were told and you made your real want known."
He'd not expected it, so the shoe hit him solid in the chest. The second shoe missed only because he'd more time to react and was able to lean away. Io scrambled to her feet but she stayed standing in the bare spot she'd made. Xavier knew what he'd see if he looked and when he did, he at least felt better knowing he could lay claim to still knowing his wife in some aspect.
She was working her toes into the soil. Curling and relaxing them so the dirt broke and covered the top of her foot. He'd seen her do this before. When she worked in the garden. She'd stand barefooted in the grass and curl and relax her toes. Always it seemed to ease whatever tension she felt at the time. Today it didn't have that effect. Everything about her body testified to the level of vexation, frustration and fear she must feel. Nothing about her, save for her little bare feet said relaxed. Her posture declared her ready for battle. Head slightly down, shoulders hunched forward, back stiff, legs a bit apart. Her hands fisted at her sides. She looked ready to charge him.
"Io." He tempered his voice. Staying firm but not allowing his confused emotion to seep out. She needed nothing else threatening sent her way. "Io, tell me again, then, how the injury happened?"
Reason said if he acquiesced to her instance he knew what took place but needed a reminder, she'd give him the explanation. Io, though, was not bound by the rules of reason.
"You know, you know," she repeated, shifting her stance and reaching up to grab fistfuls of her hair. She pulled hard on the strands until Xavier worried she rip out her own hair with the effort.
"Io—" he started, only to be cut off as Mark stepped between them
"Io, I do not know. Tell me what happened. Xavier did not tell me. You should tell me the truth."
"He lied," she said, giving Mark the same answer she gave him.
"He lied about what? Tell me exactly what he lied about," Mark pressed and again Io shifted her posture. She stood a bit straighter now and her grip on her hair loosened.
"He tried to kill me. He said it was safe, but he lied and he sent them to kill me." One loud sob escaped before her hands slapped down over her mouth. She sucked in several breaths, trying to gain some control then dropped her hands and repeated words Xavier neither understood nor would accept. "He tried to kill me."
"I di—" Xavier started to deny only to be stopped when Jon grabbed his arm. The look his man was giving him was murderous and he knew there was no option but to let Io have her full say and straighten it out after. If they let him. He looked back to Io who again paced with agitation.
"He said it was safe, but it is not safe. There is no place in the whole world safe. Safe is a lie. Safe does not exist. It is a lie," she shrieked the last but took a breath and went on. "It is a lie and I was fool enough to believe it. I believed too when he said I could depend on him, on all of you. But they came and the knife…" She lifted her hand to her neck and drew it upward to rest under her chin. "The knife, oh God, it burned." Her hand dropped and settled on her shoulder, over the scar from the attack when she was a child. "I did not remember, a blade burns when it cuts. And the smell of blood…" Both her hands went to her chest and brushed down as if she was wiping at something. "Blood is like in a smith's shop. And no one came." Her voice cracked and Xavier watched her give herself a shake. When she spoke again, heat was back in her tone. "It wasn't safe, he wanted me dead so he sent them and… and… but it must look like an accident. He said it must look like an accident. And I forgot how to… I forgot how, because he said I could depend on him. But I could not and I forgot to depend on me. But I will not forget this again. I will not believe your lies again, I will not." She stopped pacing midstride and turned to face him. "I will not." Her whole body went into that scream.
"Io," both he and Mark started but she wasn't done.
"Make it look like an accident. You should have just cut my throat. They did not make sure after they pushed me off the cliff. They did not make sure and I did not die like you hoped. But you got that second chance. Your lies about the horse. That same roan you tried to use to kill me the first time." She started pacing again, this time slower. "I would have left. I would have gone if you let me. You did not need to kill me to be rid of me. I would have gone. Why? Why did I need to be dead and forgotten? Why?" She stumbled and went down to her knees. "Why must I be the only one to remember? Why forget me? Am I so awful I should be forgotten?" She leaned forward setting her hands on the ground. "Why could I have not died with my mother? Why did I have to live and have hope?" She cried now, softly. "Why must I be forgotten?"
Xavier never liked the look of defeat on his wife but seeing her in such despair, hearing the immense pain in her voice for all the injustice she'd suffered her entire life, crushed him completely. Never had she expressed anything like this. She'd never made any utterance of self-pity before. Although God knew she'd a right to it. What he couldn't understand is why she thought he'd tried to kill her. How had she come to believe such a thing and was it that belief that set
all of this in motion? More to the point had someone really tried to kill her and if so who? It sounded very much like this last attempt was almost a total success.
"Io," Mark called, distracting Xavier and bringing his attention back on Io as she was presently. "Io, I do not plan to forget you. I could not forget you. No one here wants to forget you."
It seemed a strange way to go with the conversation, but Xavier said nothing. Mark was the very best at making people talk and he rarely used physical force to do it. He'd keep his eyes on Io though. If anything Mark said upset her more, he'd stop the interrogation. Although he couldn't realistically see how she could become more distressed.
"He wants me forgotten. He wants me thrown in a hole someplace, without even a marker. I need not be remembered, I am no one deserving of a memorial."
Xavier saw Mark look back at him but he couldn't explain Io's words. He shook his head at the man. "Io," Mark said as he turned back, "why do you say this. It is so specific what you say."
"It is what his message said. He hoped I would die and he gave instructions for after," Io said pushing back and sliding to the right so she sat on her hip. She brushed at the dirt and leaves on her skirts.
"When did he send you that message, Io?"
"When he left them to kill me. He took everyone away with him. No one was there. I was alone."
"Yes, but when? Where did he go and take everyone so you were alone?" Mark stepped closer and Xavier waited for his wife to react, become agitated, perhaps flee. She didn't. She only continued to brush at her skirts.
"After I tried to catch him," she whined.
"Io, where did Xavier go that you needed to catch him?"
She shrugged. "He went to see the real lion and the camel."
"You mean he went to festival in Curdale?" Mark asked and Io nodded. "You sent him a message you were attacked—"
"I did not send it; Liam did but he only knew to write about the horse." Io stopped bothering at her skirts long enough to wipe the back of her hand under her nose. "I did not want the house to hate him for trying to kill me. He still has to live there."