by Marie Hall
"Do you think you can describe the cloak, the color or material?" Mark pressed and Xavier clenched his fists.
"He was at the tower so maybe it was—"
"No, only say what you are sure of," Mark said, reminding her of his instructions.
"Oh," she gasped and sat up almost pulling the braid from Lucas who was trying to tie it off. "He had on those boots, like you wear." She looked to Xavier. "The heavy ones with the buckles and the bits of armor around the back."
"My fighting boots?" Xavier supplied.
"Yes, but his were not as well cared for."
"Io, can you tell me why you remembered that," Mark stopped and chuckled, again because of the look Io gave him. "I mean of everything about him, his boots?"
"I thought Xavier would not let his men allow equipment to fall in such disrepair…" Io stopped and looked around at every man, or rather she looked at their feet, their boots. She looked long and hard before she brought her eyes back to Mark's. "It was not a man from the house who attacked me."
"Io, let us keep going, make no conclusions." Mark shouldn't have bothered, everyone was visibly relieved by Io's conclusion as was Io, but she still worked at her shoulder. Her relief was not complete. "Io, what did you do after you visited the horse?"
"I went to Otho." Her voice pitched.
"And…"
"The boy wasn't there. He should have been there. I spent a good while with the horse and it was nearing sunset. He should have been there." Xavier could see her folding in on herself. Her shoulders dropped forward and her elbows came in closer to her sides. She even drew her feet back which caused her knees to push up into her belly.
"Keep going, Io."
"I got down the little rope, the one with the clip." Her breath hitched and her hands began to rub harder over her clothes. "I got the rope, I took it down and…" She stopped and shook her head.
Mark waved Xavier closer, down on the ground. "Io, Xavier is here, we are all here. There is no one here who wants to harm you." He made a little humming noise, "You saw everyone's boots. What happened, Io? You took down the rope and…"
Xavier felt Mark's elbow in his rib. A quick look and he saw Mark was signaling him to act. "Io," Xavier said, reaching out and taking her left hand, pulling it away from the newest scar. "It will be all right. Io, what happened after you took down Otho's lead?"
"I… I… his hand, it covered my mouth so I could not yell and then I felt… the blade… I forgot… I forgot how to fight. I forgot how to do for myself. I forgot because of you," she shouted the last at him and surged to her feet. Xavier was on his before she could move.
"No, Io, no. If you had forgotten what to do to survive you would not be here. You did not forget, something told you to be still and that is what you did and you did survive, Io. You did survive, on your own. Because you are strong. Strong enough to survive even without me," Xavier told her as he eased her back to sit again. It was likely she froze in the panic of the moment but that was not the same as forgetting how to fight and, God help him now, he was glad she did for it might be what saved her life. If she had fought, struggled in the least, she might have ended with a slit throat. He'd give his thanks it happened that way. Better she think she instinctively knew to not struggle than she think she made a mistake in not doing so.
He waited until she was sitting again and got back on his knees before her. He kept hold of her hands but then spied the little camel in the dirt by her feet. Picking it up, he placed it in one of her hands then brought the other over it, finally folding both of his around hers and the camel. "Go on, Io, tell me the rest."
"He said 'Slit your neck here and let you die now if you scream.' I did not but I had no chance, someone else said 'Get her hands' and…" He could feel her trembling. If he wasn't holding his hands around hers she'd have dropped her camel again. "I… he…"
"Speak of it, Io," Mark urged. "No one can hurt you. No one will hurt you again. Speak, let justice happen."
"He pushed that blade in more, I did not make a sound and he cut me more. I was not wrong in what I did and he cut me, and made me bleed."
Xavier couldn't tell if she spoke of her attackers or if she spoke of him. How shameful and dishonorable he'd become—something she so easily compared to such wickedness. All he could do was softly rub his thumb over the back of her hands and keep her talking that he might know the extent of what he'd caused.
"Io, tell me of his voice," Mark went on even as he made a careful gesture and everyone slid in a little closer.
"His voice? It was muffled. He wore a hood; they all wore hoods."
"Hoods? Hoods from their cloaks?"
"No, like the hang man but only made of sackcloth, not hemmed or trimmed."
Mark turned and looked back at a man who was assigned the task of writing things down and nodded. It was odd he'd find that information worthy of noting. Of course they wouldn't want to be known. He turned back to Io. "They cut holes in the hoods for their eyes?" Io nodded. "You looked, Io, what color were their eyes?"
"The one who tied my hands and feet. Green."
"The color of his brow, Io," Mark asked, sweeping a finger along his own eyebrow.
"Light, brown."
"Good and the other? The one with the knife."
"Black," she sobbed then shuddered before gathering back some calm. "Both were black, but… there was a…" she pulled her hand free and used a finger to indicate a line across her eye. "There was a scar, I only saw a little but it made his eye cloudy. I did not see the last man at all."
"There were three?" Xavier's gut rolled. How had she survived it? How did she survive any part of her life? Perhaps that dirty little urchin who'd called her an angel was correct. Perhaps it was he was married to someone not completely earthly.
"I never saw him. He never said anything and he wasn't at the cliffs but he was there in the stall." Io sounded sure.
"They tied you and then what?" Mark asked, getting them back on point.
"They put me in a crate, I thought perhaps I could get out. It seemed rather frail, but when I kicked, it held and they piled on so much straw. I could not breathe."
"You went out under much straw, Io, but I know you could tell the time, when did they get you past the gates?"
"I could see nothing. I do not know."
"Io, the gates are closed at sunset," Xavier reminded her.
"It was full dark when we stopped, and the moon was up by the time they stopped arguing," Io said.
"What were they arguing about?" Mark said the same time Xavier, too, asked the question.
"How to make it look like an accident. They kept saying 'He said make it look like an accident, like an accident.' But they fought about if it would look like one if they left me tied or… or if…" She stammered to a stop and shook her head.
"Io, come you can do this, tell me," Xavier whispered and shifted closer, trying to lend her any strength or courage she might need.
"They fought about how they might stab me dead or twisted my neck. One said I should be dead before I go over—"
"Go over?" Xavier choked out.
"We were at the cliffs above Tinsdale," Io said, taking in two deep shaky breaths. Xavier once took a switch to her for climbing those cliffs. They were steep and rugged and the thickness of the vegetation easily tripped anyone walking along them. She'd been forbidden with no room for argument to take the path up to the top again.
"They argued, Io, but it was decided not to kill you." Mark again took control of the conversation.
"The one, not with the knife, said 'He wants her to die in the fall, he wants her to know and I want my money.' So they waited." Io sniffed and shrugged.
"They waited, Io?" Mark said, confusion in his question.
"They did not stab me and a little after the sun was up, they cut the rope and carried me to the edge. I tried to get back, I tried not to let them drop me over I tried. I… I… I begged them. I told them I was leaving; they did not need to do this. I begged
them. I begged them. And they shoved me over." Her shoulders shook now with the crying. "I begged them."
Xavier pushed Gerald out of the way and took the seat next to Io before gathering her up to sit in his lap. He tucked her close and wrapped his arms around her then started rocking gently. "There is no shame in that, Io," he told her. "No shame in begging for your life." He felt her head nodding so he set a hand to the side of it and pressed it against his chest so she couldn't keep denying his words. "No, anyone, all of us, would have done the same."
"No," she said.
"Of course we would. I would I know have begged." He looked down when he said that and Io tilted her head back to look up at him. Only because he knew her so well did he know it wasn't the being afraid, it wasn't feeling betrayed, it wasn't even almost dying that did the most damage to her. It was that she believed she went down without a fight. That she'd been weak in the face of her own end. She'd begged for her life; a life she maybe sometimes didn't believe she should be living even when it was a terrible life. She'd begged not to die and, for her, it was a kind of failure.
The crunching of leaves caused them both to turn and look towards the crowd of men. Mark was finishing saying something to the impromptu scribe even as he made his way back to where they sat. "Io," Marked called, again squatting before her. "Do you know why they waited the night to try and kill you?"
"No," Io said, then pushed in closer to Xavier.
"They pushed you off the cliff and did you… roll?"
"I slid down on my back for some way but then I... I hit something and got turned face down and I do not know much after that." She wiggled a bit, pushing her hip into his groin.
"They did not try and see if you were dead, and you never saw or heard them again?" Mark pressed. Io shook her head and her arm went around Xavier's back. He could feel the wood of the statuette press against him. "What happened after that?"
"I am not sure, I opened my eyes and Leal was standing over me with one of his black faced sheep. He took me to Darby that I could clean up and then drove me as far as the lake."
"Why only to the lake?" Xavier asked, wondering if he needed to thank the man or punch him in the head.
"I… I did not want anyone to know who helped me in case they would hurt him for the effort."
"For the love of Christ," Ian shouted. Xavier gave him a hard look but understood his sentiment. Just once he wished his wife might think of herself and do what made it easier for her.
"Io, when you got back to the house, tell me what happened after that. Was anyone overly surprised to see you?" Mark said even as he shoved Ian back in warning to remain quiet.
"Maybe… everyone? I do not know. I came through the gates and it seemed they all believed I had gone with Xavier. Or maybe…" She shrugged. "I do not know I cannot… I was not thinking to notice such things. I asked if Xavier left already, I was told yes. I said I needed to catch up. I wanted to walk but Christopher insisted I take a horse. I wanted to catch up I had to go I could not stay, they almost killed me and—"
"Io, breathe," Xavier snapped and bounced her hard on his knee. She was speaking so fast she could barely gasp in air. "Breathe," he commanded again and she swallowed then drew in a few slower deeper breaths.
"You wanted to catch up to Xavier and you needed a horse to do this?" Mark confirmed and Io nodded.
"Christopher brought out the roan you tried to make me ride before," Io said, looking at Xavier with that same bitterness she had each time riding some other horse was mentioned. "I did not want to but he said you were already three days out and I would never catch up. He did not even let me wait for an escort to be formed. He put me in the saddle and stepped back."
"What happened, Io?" Mark asked before Xavier could give voice to his musing over the strange behavior of the groom.
"What I thought would happen when Xavier tried to make me ride. I could not. It reared and turned and I fell." She gave a small short hard laugh. "I thought at least I fell into muck and was not killed. Only when I tried to move…" She squeezed her hand between where her thigh and Xavier's belly touched and rubbed. "I use to be able to make everyone put the tools away, but Lady Charlotte has control and she cares not if the yard is littered."
"You landed on a pitchfork." Gunther stated the obvious.
Io nodded, "Now my leg is—"
"Your leg is beautiful like it has always been," Xavier said, cutting her off before she could say anything different. "Healed and strong and the same as it was."
Her response was a shrug. "After that." Again she shrugged. "A few days later the messenger returned and…" One last shrug and she went silent.
"You did well, Io. You did very well." Mark stood and brushed his hand over the top of her head. "Try and eat a little. It should make us all happy if you do."
Lucas handed Xavier a small cloth wrapped around some food stuff and then stepped over the log to join the others now standing with Mark.
"Can you try and eat a bit, Io? I have been listening to your belly this whole time." He placed a little kiss in her hair. "It is starting to sound like quite a fierce beast is in there." He set the cloth on her lap then folded back the edges to show her the nice bits of dried meats and soft cheeses.
She sighed, in her put upon manner, but she lifted a piece of cheese to her lips before leaning over and resting her head on his shoulder. Xavier said nothing else. He didn't dare move for worry she'd be discouraged about eating. And too, that she'd pull from him. Her story left him shaken and, at the moment, not only did he not want to let her out of his sight, he didn't want her anywhere he could not easily touch her. Holding her gathered against him was selfish on his part. With her in his lap, he felt better. He hoped she did as well, but truthfully he held her there because it soothed his own nerves.
He tried a few times to determine what Mark might have gotten from Io's words. The attempt on her life wasn't one he might plan were he to want someone dead. Needing to make it look like an accident seemed irrelevant. Who would care if she'd been murdered more than if she'd died because of some careless act? The result would be the same. Io would be dead. Beyond that impossible to conceive thought, what would it matter? Io's death would have been the end of him. And while he might have gone on breathing and walking for a time, he was fairly certain losing Io would be a failure to the crown. He'd have been stripped of everything he'd earned. No one in his ranks would have remained. Joining Io in death would've been the only solution.
"Xavier?"
He looked up to see Jon laying out some furs. "What?"
"Lay her here."
"What?"
"She sleeps," Jon said and Xavier looked down to see Io was indeed sound asleep in his arms. "Lay her here out of the wind."
He didn't want to, but, leaning forward, Xavier let Io slip from his lap into the pile of furs. He spent a moment helping Jon cover her and erect a shelter that kept the wind and the falling snow off her before joining the other men and sorting out what they knew. Certainly now more than ever Xavier was grateful for his men and their abilities. After listening carefully, he knew his own emotions clouded both what he heard and understood when Io was speaking.
Well before dark they'd a plan to protect Io in place and ready to execute. They'd start for home again in the morning.
Chapter Ten
She strained against being pushed forward. She wasn't going to take another step. Then there was only empty space beneath her feet and her scream echoed in her own ears.
"Io, for the love of God wake up. Io."
Her head snapped back only it didn't hit the rocks on the cliff like she expected. Rather the cushioning pile of furs muted the otherwise hard thud. The sick sensation of falling fled replaced by the sudden need to fight against whoever shook the breath from her.
Her legs kicked out as she arched and twisted to get free only to feel a heavy weight settle over her whole body. "Io, wake up. Wake up."
"Xavier," she called, pushing whoever held her away.
Maybe he'd come this time. "Xavier?"
"I am here, Io. I am here. Wake up, it is a dream wake up." His voice pushed away the heavy mists sleep left. "I am here, Io."
"Xavier?" She squeezed her eyes shut, afraid to open them now that she was awake. How many times before had she heard his voice in her sleep only to wake and he'd be gone? She didn't want him gone. Not with fear thrumming in her blood. She needed him with her even if only in her head for a moment more. "Xavier?"
"I am here, Io. Open your eyes."
Something went behind her shoulders and a warmth curled alongside her. She felt a weight at her hip and then she was pulled against the hard form to her left. "Xavier?"
"I am here." She felt his lips brush her temple and risked opening her eyes and making the vision vanish.
"Xavier?" He was beside her in the dark.
"Yes, Io," his whispered. His lips brushed her ear and a warm shiver of delight washed over her.
"You came? I called and you came?" Maybe everything before had been a dream. Maybe she was back safe in the big bed they shared.
"I will always come, Io. I will always be here for you." Again his lips brushed her ear.
It took a few blinks but the space she was in came into focus and she knew she'd not been dreaming. Everything before happened and she'd not be able to forget it when the sun came up. This time though she wouldn't see the gold and orange rays come up alone. He was with her. And as much as she wanted to not need him, only he was able to chase the cold of fear from her body. "Xavier?"
"It was only a dream, Io," he said and pulled her tight against him.
"No, I…" She worked her arm free of the covers and setting her hand on his hand at her hip let it slide up over the thick muscles. His skin was warm and the coarse hair tickled her palm. She took a moment to rub at his elbow. The skin there was rough and scarred from his years of battle. A little higher up and she could no longer reach around the girth. She could if she used both hands and stretched her fingers to hold his forearm but his upper arm and his shoulder she could only hold it by wrapping her entire arm around and if she did that he could lift her right off the ground. Xavier wasn't only big, he was strong, and every memory of him using his strength was one that resulted in a benefit to her. Always he protected her, provided for her. Even when he was putting strength into the swing of his arm as he punished her, his intent, she knew, was to ensure she didn't continue to do things which could bring her harm. So why did she doubt him so easily when the attempts on her life occurred? Why did she doubt him now? "I… lived this. It happened to me."