by Marie Hall
"Yes, please, Xavier, I-I understand. I will not do anything without them again. I will not. But please, I-I—"
"Speak," he bit out.
"I was scared; it was frightening to—" Io didn't get to finish; she also didn't get the response she expected. Rather than pull her into his arms, he grabbed her and shook her hard.
"You were scared? You? Can you be any more selfish and thoughtless?" he yelled as he shook her again. "How do you think we all felt? Did you even consider what cost to anyone else?"
"Xavier," Jon shouted, but Xavier didn't even acknowledge him.
"How can you even be trusted after this? We cannot go on if everything you say and do is to manipulate and coerce. How can I trust you? If I cannot trust you, there is no relationship," he yelled, letting go of her left arm, turning her sideways and landing his hand several times in the middle of her pained arse, before taking hold again. He lifted her from the ground and set her hard on the end of the wagon bed. "I will not have it from you. I will not have it from anyone."
He was gone before Io's head stopped spinning. The renewed pain in her flanks forced her to press her mouth into the crook of her elbow to quiet the crying. Did he mean that? Did they no longer have a relationship? Was he going to ask the king for an annulment? Abandon her someplace along the way? What had she accomplished this time? If she thought she was afraid at times in her life before Xavier, she thought now, she never really understood fear.
"Io, it is not you he is angry with," Jon offered as he lifted her legs so her feet were inside. "Give him a day or two to realize he must bide his time. He wants quite badly to go after the prince, to take his vengeance on him. He will come to see that the strike must be made in a less satisfactory manner. Then his anger will dissipate."
Io tried to take in Jon's advice when Xavier came back and slammed a heavy iron cook pot down beside her. "Use that if you want to piss in private—"
"Xavier," Jon gasped in outrage. Again, Xavier ignored him.
"You will be nowhere, ever again, where eyes are not on you. Not even to piss." He shoved the pot closer to her. "If you wish privacy, use this in there." He spun on his heels then and headed to where everyone was formed up and ready to ride.
"Io," Jon called her name with softness, but in the face of Xavier's hatefulness, it only made the cut hurt deeper. Rolling to her knees, she crawled behind the tarp, dragging her new chamber pot with her.
Their caravan didn't stop for a meal at noon, though someone placed a meal wrapped in cloth at the wagon's entrance. She didn't move from the platform that was her bed, and after one hard rut in the road caused the wagon to lurch, the meal was lost on the road.
The whole of the day, Io heard the gentle plodding of hooves all around; she didn't need to look to know her guards rode closer now. And again, no one said anything when a second meal was set inside the wagon closer to dark.
Once stopped for the night, Gerald climbed up and tried to convince her to come out and sit by the fire with everyone else. She refused, and after a time, he gave up and left her alone. No meal was set out for her the next morning or at midday, but that second night, it was Xavier who came inside and Io felt hope spark. He was quick to douse it with his gruff command she eat as he tossed the small package at her, followed by a water skin. He said nothing else before turning and leaving. Io shoved the meal between two trunks and poured out the contents of the skin into the pot she was forced to use. The third day was equally as bleak.
The rain rutted roads made traveling in the wagon stressful as Io spent so much time bracing so she wouldn't be thrown to the floor. She wasn't always successful. The sound of wood cracking the fourth day had her being pulled from inside, but as there was only her guard nearby, Roth made no demands on her and she took to walking.
Each step, though, only made her feel further from everything she'd started to believe was hers. Several times, the small bag, holding her most valued possessions, she carried slipped from her fingers, and when Ansell offered to carry it for her, she removed only the wooden camel Xavier gave her as proof he always thought of her.
There was little concept of time; she moved, placing one foot before the other. From sun up to sun down, and only when Roth or Luther or even Cutler would stop her and force her to drink was the monotony broken. Her feet grew heavier with each mile and a deep ache filled her. Sleep became the only time she knew peace, and she lay down more than once almost wishing she'd not wake up again.
Xavier heard them riding up behind him and tried to prepare for yet another day of badgering by these men. It was times like now, he could regret having the brotherhood he did. He didn't need them reminding him all day, every day, Io still hadn't attempted to reconcile with him.
She'd never gone so long before, and he'd only ever waited three days the last time she took more than a few hours. He'd gone to her then only because there was doubt on his part his handling of the discourse wasn't completely correct.
He'd been correct this time. He didn't doubt that. And these men didn't speak to the contrary. But eight days and no word from Io. He'd not seen her since he took her that single meal. Gerald remarked she was hiding among her men. That, in itself, was worrisome. His wife hadn't ever shown cowardly tendencies before. She certainly shouldn't fear him. She didn't hold grudges, she set things behind her quickly, even when she'd be better served not to. Why then hadn't she called out to him?
"It is been eight days, Xavier," Lucas said, riding up on his left side.
"Is it common to go so long without speaking to her?" Jon asked, and Xavier shook his head.
"Perhaps you should approach her," Gerald suggested.
"Io will come to me when she is ready to speak. I will not for—"
"She tried," Jon interrupted. "She tried to come to you, and you rebuffed her, rebuked her for the effort."
Xavier shifted uncomfortably. It was true. The very next morning, Io had tried to say something. He couldn't remember what, only that it irritated him more than he was already irritated by Rigato's insistence he not send the note threatening the prince's life. The man gave every assurance the matter would be handled by the crown when they reached court, and he'd been blunt in announcing possible consequences for the threat. He even suggested no letter so if the prince did end up dead, by anyone's hands, it wouldn't fall on Xavier. It was a logical, reasonable argument. Xavier had sent his messenger on anyway.
"Xavier?" Mark called and repositioned his horse to be closer to Xavier's as they rode well ahead of the main group. "Speak with her."
"I am not ready," he admitted and then exhaled heavily.
"What do you wait on?" Mark pressed.
What did he wait on? He already found forgiveness for her actions. He'd no regrets for his response to her. It was hardly the first time he'd been so harsh. But there was something he needed before he could confront her. Before he could reconcile this matter and move forward.
He needed… to understand why she did this. Time and again, why she'd toss all reason, all truth, all understanding aside and behave like she had absolutely no trust in him. He needed… "Justification," he finally put a name to it.
"Justification?" Mark echoed back.
"Why must she do this? She says she trusts me, and yet she will believe, so easily, what others tell her, even when I tell her the exact opposite." Settling deeper in the saddle, he let go the reins to scrub his hands over his face. The stubble he felt there had him shaking his head. Io hated facial hair, that he'd grown some was only more evidence their discontent lingered.
"I do not doubt she trusts you, Xavier, and I do not doubt she uses that trust to her advantage. She told me that when she was being held, she informed the man threatening her you would pay a great price to have her back, unharmed, that you had already done so?"
"Yes," Xavier confirmed, a small smile tugging at his lips.
"She told him, too, she knew you were already coming for her, because you always come for her. You always defended her, n
ot just her person but her honor. That you would not find it hard to do murder in her name."
"True," Xavier said, considering what he was hearing carefully. He'd have rather heard these things from Io, but they were not speaking. And they weren't speaking because she'd taken the prince's words over his and behaved recklessly. "Then why can she not believe me, trust me, when I tell her what others are saying matters not?"
"It occurs to me," Jon started, then took a deep breath and let it out slowly, "that the only time she takes to heart anything said by anyone other than you, is when they speak to your loss."
"What?" Xavier turned sharply to look at the man.
"I think Jon is correct," Lucas added with a shrug.
"Correct?" Xavier didn't grasp it. "What would I lose, that might concern her so?"
"Not your loss, as you will lose something, but your loss in that she would lose you should she not act. Or perhaps the loss of your pleasure at having her as wife. I think it was that which drove her away when Charlotte was in the house, was it not? She thought it better to go and lose you physically than lose the happiness you shared in her company," Mark explained.
"Mark is correct," Gerald said and moved his horse around to block the road and bring everyone to a stop. "Did you not listen to what Harris told you? Io was told the king was going to find her a disappointment, and when he did, he would feel the need to replace her that you might have a better wife."
"She knows I want no other," Xavier defended.
"She also knows the power of a king, and such power and authority could break you apart," Lucas reminded him.
"Her actions might have been her vain attempt to show the prince her worthiness. Perhaps in hopes he wouldn't tell the crown about any of her inadequacies," Mark said. "Go speak with her, Xavier. Reconcile this. Find out if this guess is good and discuss with her what you both might do to prevent her feeling the need to take such risks just to hold on to you."
Xavier took a moment to look at each man. They all seemed not only in agreement but also sure of their assessment. And it was, to the best of his memory, always times when Io thought she'd lose him that she took the biggest risks.
Gaining her complete belief he'd always come for her no matter what might have helped with part of her concern. He simply needed to figure out what might help her believe, trust, that he also meant to come after her even if she was taken by force or decree. He wasn't quite sure how he might prove that. But speaking to her would be a start.
Taking the reins, he nodded at the men, wheeled his horse around and started toward the back of the precession, surprised when it ended at Lord Balbroke's coach. Thinking Io's group must have fallen behind, he waited, but when the last man traveling with Balbroke disappeared around the bend and there was no sign of Io's group, he started back down the road from which he'd come. He was well worried when a few hours passed and he thought he might need to race back and gather his men before again trying to meet up with Io, when the wagon appeared coming his way.
He could tell by the tilt and wobble it was damaged, and as if to confirm the observation, the man riding the lead horse called out as he pulled to a stop, "Axel cracked."
"Lady Io?"
"She took to walking with the men."
He was about to ask how far behind they were when the sound of hooves galloping toward them put Xavier on alert. Calm was quickly restored when Xavier saw it was Samuel. The man pulled up his horse, rearing and tossing his head. It seemed unlikely a short distance run would put lather on the animal, but it had one.
"My lord, I was coming to find you," Samuel stated, trying to bring his horse under control.
"Why?"
"Roth wanted to know if you have plans to stay a few days at the Forks?" Samuel told him, sounding a bit breathless himself.
"It was not a set plan," Xavier hedged. "Should it be?"
"Well, it would give us time to catch up and maybe have the wagon repaired and cleaned, that Lady Io can use it. She really needs it now."
Those words chilled. But Xavier refused to assume the worst. "A cracked axle should not prevent her riding inside. Unless it cracked through, which it is not, as it still rolls." Xavier headed toward the back end and, leaning down, could see nothing dragging under the vehicle. "Put her inside and maintain this easy pace. You are only a few hours behind; we will stop early today, you catch up before dark."
"My lord," Samuel said and sounded both confused and a little angry. "It is not the axle; it is the stench inside, and we are at least a full day and a half behind you now. Maybe more if our lady is moving as she has been for the last two days."
Xavier was already reaching for the tarp covering the opening when Samuel informed him of the last part. And pulling it back had him gagging instantly. It was nearly as bad as the smell of rotting bodies on a summer battlefield. Xavier dropped the flap and covered his mouth with his arm.
"It was a poor idea to have her try to use a chamber pot when it would splash and spill every time she hit a rut," Samuel said dryly. He might as well have called Xavier stupid for the tone. Xavier moved to find clear air, ignoring the remark altogether, for while not a top man, he was still one of Io's personal guards and his only duty was to her. If he spoke to chide his lord, it was meant to defend his lady.
"Did you say you are a day behind us?" Xavier asked, looking toward the direction both the wagon and Samuel came. How had she fallen so far behind?
"A day and a half at least," Samuel said. "So tell me if you plan to stop, so I can go back and let them know?"
Xavier did take offense at that and sent a heated glare his way. The younger man's response was minimal, leaving Xavier annoyed and proud of the man's devotion to his duties.
"Why are you so far behind?"
"Io drags her feet as of late. She spends more time picking herself out of the dirt then moving forward. She tires and weakens more with each day. And before you ask, we have tried to get her mounted. She will not ride. She will not accept help of any kind from any man. She must have water poured down her throat to even drink. And, no," Samuel stated firmly, "she does not want you. She was asked if we might fetch you; she declined. She asks for nothing, no one, and to even reach out for her makes her cry out."
Xavier took in everything he was told. The man had no reason to lie, no reason to exaggerate, and while she'd not put on such a display in a very long time, it did sound like he described Io in extreme distress. "Ride ahead," Xavier ordered. "Tell Gerald to hold everyone outside Tindale, until the party is reunited and then move to The Forks. Have that," he waved a hand at the wagon, "repaired and made suitable. Then wait for us." He was about to set spurs when Samuel shouted.
"I was on the road before sun up; you will not reach them before dark."
If it was a challenge, Xavier took it. Setting down his heels, he sent the horse under him bolting forward. It wasn't yet mid-day, so if she was moving, Io still moved toward him. The big gelding he rode wasn't weighed down by anything more than Xavier's saddlebags and bedding and its long, even strides covered ground with well-bred efficiency. Still, it was near sunset when the sound of a large party moving up the road toward him reached his ears. He slowed the animal from a full run several times so as not to kill him. Now he slowed more until, on its own, the animal came to a stop in the road. Xavier waited several long moments, but no one appeared. He was about to started forward again when a lone rider appeared at the top of the slight rise in the road nearly a mile away.
They must have spotted each other at the same time for the man called back and two more riders joined him on point. One then kicked his horse into a long lope. A minute more and Xavier identified the man as Hamlin. But before he could extend any kind of a greeting, Hamlin was sending orders at him in a tone well past rude and bordering on disrespectful.
"Move off the road. If she makes it this far, I will not have you hindering her progress. Move off the road and, for good measure, out of sight."
"Mind yourself," Xavier
shot back in warning. It went unheeded.
"It is not myself I mind. It is my lady and what is good and right for her." He worked his horse up against Xavier's and began pushing it from the road.
"You will stand down and recall your place," Xavier warned again and worked his horse away from Hamlin's.
"My place is with Lady Io, and I will not stand down to you without her say."
"You will have no place if you do not yield," Xavier threatened as the man again used his bigger animal to force Xavier's back. "Yield, now."
"Greggor." They both turned at the sound of Liam's voice calling as he rode up with four others. "She crests the rise," Liam said, pointing back and pointedly ignoring Xavier's presence.
Xavier looked, but he couldn't see Io at all as three rows of horses blocked the view. The procession moved so painfully slow, he could make out every step each horse made.
"She will not make it this far," Cutler said.
"Roth wants her at least clear of the thicker brush and trees," Liam said, and as Xavier watched, everyone came to a stop for a time before again moving as slowly as possible to be more than standing still.
Xavier looked, too, at the terrain. The road leveled out before them, but the forest reached up to the road on both sides where they stood waiting now. He had to look back to find a place more open. He spied one a few hundred feet away. He again turned and watched the approach; still, no Io.
"Move off," Hamlin ordered, and Xavier reined back until his horse stepped off the road. But the others did as well. The party moving toward them took up the width of the road. Xavier watched three lines of horses pass, followed by a formation of men who created a square five men deep in front and three deep on the sides. The back line was only two men deep and then more horses behind that. From his mount, he caught sight of Io. She walked in the small gap left by the distance side to side and front to rear. Her head was down and back hunched forward like an old woman. She stumbled, the acted causing everyone to stop almost in sync, but no one reached for her.
"The sun is not down yet, my lady. Do not stop. A little further." Xavier looked to the end of the men who marched to see Roth pull away from the other trailing riders. "Just to the clearing. At least that far today, and it will be a good effort."
