by Marie Hall
"Io," Lucas chided. "You might have shown the man a little acceptance." The look Io sent him caused him to inhale and exhale slowly. "Then do not expect interference when Xavier takes you to task for your defiance." He turned to walk away. "Because you know he will."
Chapter 14
"I told you..." Xavier's voice boomed in the large room.
"And I told you, I would not. I will not, and you will not force me to," Io yelled back, careful to keep the large dining table between them. Almost everyone else fled the inside of the house when Xavier came through the door at midday. Only Lucas, Ian, Mark, Gerald, and Roth remained, and they stood well out of the way.
"You give me no choice, Io. I will make this a command. You will take instructions, and until you do, you will do nothing else. You will not visit the village; you will not step foot from this house until you comply. Sharralon will be around tomorrow. You will give him three hours of your time, and I will have no more rebellion from you."
Io made her way to the foot of the stairs before he made that decree. She'd blame the ache in her shoulder, the crawling of her skin, and her general discontent for not remaining reasonable. That he managed to duck the large vase she sent flying at him and he was far enough from the wall, the shards that sprayed out when it shattered didn't hit gave her an odd sense of relief. It was short lived as Xavier's face became void of all expression and he came at her with long, quick strides.
She was dangling over his shoulder looking at the steps as he carried her toward the chamber they shared, before she got the chance to add the curses on her lips when the vase left her hand. He gave her no chance at all to get her bearing when he set her on the floor, slammed the door, and gave his next command.
"Bend," he said, a chilling tone in his voice. Io turned to see him already working his scabbard free of the belt. When he caught her eye, he repeated the command, this time pointing at the foot of the bed, the heavy leather strip doubled in his fist.
With little chance she'd leave this room unscathed, Io shook her head and refused to move. "You cannot force me to take these lessons. I will not yield because you think to beat me until I do."
"You will take the lessons from Sharralon, and you will take this lesson about remembering to not be a harpy from me," Xavier ground out as he reached for her, anticipating her move to stay out of reach and, grabbing her arm, dragged her to the bed. "You have want to refuse the lessons, then you can do so at the cost of your freedom. You have want to behave like a vile shrew, then you do so with the cost of your skin." He jerked her sideways and shoved her down over the high footboards. A hand between her shoulders held her while he gathered her skirts and piled them at her waist. The hand lifted from her shoulders, but before she could move, it held her and her skirts in place again.
Xavier brought the strap down without warning and with more force than she might have guessed. The full burn had yet to rise to the surface before the second stroke landed and then the third. The thick mattress and bedding muffled her screams but also hampered her ability to breathe. She lifted her head to grab air, only to have the strap land again before she got enough.
"Stop," she cried, taking in only enough air to scream when the lash landed next. She tried reaching back to leverage against the boards and push back out of striking range. She only slipped back a small bit. Xavier's aim remained true and a fresh burn flamed across her skin.
Reaching forward, she was less successful in escape, and when she tried to lift her legs to block his swing, he paused only long enough to shove them down, and as hellfire was lit on the tender part of her lower arse, he warned with no mercy, "Keep your feet on the floor." Two more strokes in that same tender area, and Io surrendered. Xavier did not.
She didn't even try to count the number of times the belt fell. That he was overlapping places already aflame and welted didn't seem to matter to him. Nor did he seem to notice the complete misery as both his palms smacked now on either cheek and his fingers took a grip on the tortured flesh.
She couldn't see him through the tears, and nothing of his scent penetrated her nose as he leaned his full weight over her and spoke with deadly calm in her ear. "Throw things at my head again, Io, and you will very much regret it." One more painful squeeze of his fingers then the squeak of hinges and the soft click as the door shut behind him.
As normal as this had become, him leaving her alone after a punishment, his stepping away this time felt not just wrong, but frightening. Everything about being here made her feel like the end was nearing, her destruction imminent. Try as she had, she couldn't place the reason for such dread. And as she pulled herself backward and slid to the floor, she repeated what she'd been repeating for days now, though no one heard her, "I cannot be here."
Xavier reined in short of the gates. The back and forth was starting to wear on him, for while it wasn't a great distance, it was still a distance he couldn't always travel every day and night. And while he tried to keep the time he was separated from Io to no more than three nights, this last week was a long series of important and complicated meetings and planning.
The worried whispers of a building rebellion wouldn't be silenced and for Xavier, that meant having to adjust his priorities. Priorities that included making sure Io was ready to be presented to the king.
Her adamant refusal to take the lessons was a sticking point between them. He'd held firm to keeping her restricted to the house until she yielded to his command. But he'd stopped sending the man out. Instead, he waited for a note, either from Io that she was ready to comply, or from the men that she was. He rather expected the message to come from them as Io was barely speaking to him by the time he was forced to return to court. All she'd given him was an acknowledgement she understood she shouldn't have thrown the vase at him like an angry child. Beyond that, there was no indication she wanted to reconcile. And he was left unsure how to proceed because this behavior was so completely unexpected.
She wasn't sick or in flux, usually the cause of unreasonable emotional outbursts. He'd been told she was very much enjoying her time spent in the markets and out in the countryside. The only notable thing anyone remarked on was she couldn't wait each day to leave and she did all she could every evening to delay returning. And she still got little rest, spending most nights wandering the house in her sleep.
He'd not wanted to make a larger issue of it than it might be, but now, with his instructions from the crown set, he needed his wife to be in best form. He needed her strong beside him. She currently wasn't, and she wouldn't take what strength he offered her.
With a sigh, he nudged the horse forward, up the path toward the house, only to pull up so hard, the animal reared a bit. Before him, the wagons, already mostly loaded and hitched to teams looked ready to be driven out. Men scrambling about hardly gave him notice, though he did hear someone call out for Mark, who appeared at the door fast enough.
Xavier dismounted as the man made his way toward him. "What is going on here? Where is Io?" Xavier asked, the look on Mark's face telling him something more serious had happened.
"Io is safe, but she is gone from here, and she will not be coming back," Mark stated flatly. "We have taken up residence at the tavern she likes."
Xavier looked around; nothing seemed to indicate any reason for abandoning such a good and generous gift as this house. Usually, when at court, everyone slept in the fields outside the palace or castle the king occupied. This place housed nearly everyone, and with the large stables and other buildings, they'd only set up one tent.
"Come," Mark said, jerking his head toward the side yard. Xavier followed again, struck by an odd sense of familiarity. Mark led him to the far side of the stables. When they'd arrived, a large pile of straw was stored here, but over the days, it was used to care for the horses and pad beds. "Look," Mark said, grabbing a pitchfork and holding it above a spot for a moment before dropping it.
If Xavier had blinked, he'd have missed it. The ground opened up, swallowed the pitchfor
k and closed back, leaving hardly any trace the trap door existed. "What in hell?"
"It is not the only one," Mark said. "And once one falls through, they cannot get back out, even if they are tall enough. Jon tells us the person's weight locks the door. Io fell through this one." Mark said as he pushed the ground open and braced it with a stick. Roth joined them, carrying a torch.
"Show him?" Roth asked, hardly acknowledging Xavier's presence.
"I am about to," Mark said, taking the torch and getting down on his knees so he could light the darkness of the trap.
Xavier got down as well, the flame glinting off a few shiny, wet streaks. "What is that?" he asked, reaching in to touch the walls which were not as wet as they seemed, and not just streaks, they were gouges in the wooden wall. Actual gouges. Pulling his fingers back, he brought them into the light. "Blood?"
"Io tried to claw her way out. Even with every one working to free her, she couldn't contain the panic," Mark said and pulled the torch back.
"Wait," Xavier shouted as something else caught his eye. He forced Mark's arm down so the lower part of the walls shone. Smaller, and very aged, there was still no mistaking what he saw. "God damn this," he yelled, scrambling to his feet and looking around him now. It came to him then. The reason this place seemed so familiar. "God damn this," he bellowed.
"Xavier?" Roth called and looked at him as if he'd lost his mind.
"Look," Xavier ground out ad pointed toward the large fountain. "Look at that."
"What?" Mark asked, climbing to his feet.
"Look, that… that… place, that area." Xavier pointed to the fountain and then to the entire garden area. "Look at it and replace the fountain with a tree."
It took only a moment for both men to see what he saw. "Io's garden."
"Io's garden," Xavier echoed. "She has been here before. She has been here before, and how much will you wager her time here was not pleasant?" He swiped his hand over his face. "'I cannot be here,' that is what she kept saying. 'I cannot be here,' not here at court, here. This house." He stomped his foot down hard. "This house. She cannot be here."
"I do not understand," Roth said. "Why did she not say that?"
"She did," Xavier almost cried. "She did, we, I, did not hear her. Damn, she cannot be here." If it wasn't so gut wrenching, he'd have laughed.
"But she never said she meant the house. She never said she knew this house." Roth didn't know Io as well as Xavier thought.
"She might not have known what she meant, herself," Mark supplied, already thinking exactly what Xavier believed.
"If she was too young, her memory is good, but perhaps like with what she remembers of her mother, she is not clear," Xavier added. What could anyone expect of a woman who was remembering horrible events that happened when she was six? That she remembered anything at all was more a curse than a blessing. Especially now, when the memory was so bad as to cause her to relive it while she slept and to dread being close to the area. "Where is she?"
"At the tavern," Mark said.
"The Buck and Dove, on the road that shifts east of here," Roth said, supplying Xavier with the information.
He made his way quickly back to the horse, shouting for the men who still worked to load the wagons and leave the house to make sure nothing was left. He didn't know the tavern, but it'd do for now. Finding another house could be problematic; they hadn't brought enough tents, but Xavier didn't want to split everyone up. But these were matters for another time. Right now, he needed to focus on Io. He'd need her over the next several weeks, and he'd need her willing.
As he walked into the tavern and turned at the sound of her yelp, he was not at all certain where he stood with her.
"My lord," Luther greeted, causing several others to turn and look at him before returning their focus to what sat in the middle of the circle.
Io's pained cry was long and carried over the crowd. Xavier pushed his way through to the table where Io sat, her back to him. Two women held her hand while a third was using a rather large needle to dig at her finger. Her other hand sat soaking in water stained red with blood, and on a small cloth near the unknown woman's elbow, a collection of splinters.
"Here, here," a stout man called and pushed through and right up to Io. "Here, Lady Io. I warmed it a bit but not too much." He set a small cup down before her, which was promptly lifted by one of the women sitting to either side of her.
"A few sips," the woman said, and when Io lifted her head, she softly brushed the hair from her face and lifted the cup to Io's lips. "Maybe then, you will take something a might stronger." Io took the drink but then shook her head. "Ah, no of course," the woman cooed before giving some sort of signal to another to wipe a cloth over Io's face. She'd hardly finished the act when Io went stiff, stomped her feet on the floor, and cried out.
"Ah, now, love, it is almost out," the woman digging at the remaining splinters soothed. Io jerked away, but the women held her secure. "See, there it is. Aye, a big one at that." She held up the bloody bit of wood a moment before wiping it off on the cloth. "Give it a rinse, and we can make sure they are all out." Io's hand was forced into the bowl. The way she hissed and gasped, Xavier didn't think it was simply water. "Fetch a fresh bowl, Tess, not so much vinegar this time." The woman who'd wiped Io's face stood and left the table, giving Xavier the chance to slip in beside her.
"Io?" he called and set his hand on her shoulder. As soon as she turned to look at him, she burst into tears. "Ah, now, settle. Settle." he said as he gathered her close.
"I am sorry," Io sobbed against him.
"Hush, settle."
"Must be the man," the woman who was removing splinters grumbled to those around her, her approval utterly lacking and oddly mattering to him. "Now you will be more accommodating, girl," the woman said, taking Io's hand back and wiping them with a cloth. Xavier might have taken offense but for the chuckles he could hear among the men. He waited until the woman finished her inspection of Io's fingers. She did as the fresh bowl was set down on the table and she placed Io's hand in the water. Io hissed and splashed and quickly apologized for the mess as the woman set her other hand in and stood. "Of course, you are, girl. Of course, you are," she said in a tone more motherly than not. She leaned in and brushed a hand over Io's cheek. "Soak now; when Nell returns with the cream, we can see what needs to be bandaged."
"How bad is it?" Xavier asked, reaching to lift a hand from the water and see for himself. Splinters shouldn't need so much care.
"She ripped a few nails right out," the woman told him, and she removed Io's hand from his, replacing it in the water. "Soak," she instructed, and Io nodded, sniffed, and thanked her quietly. Respectfully.
"What happened, Io?" Xavier asked, shifting to straddle the bench and move closer.
"I think I fell in a hole," Io said with a sniff. The woman to her other side pushed the cup closer, and Xavier took it and lifted it to Io's lips.
"Yes, Mark showed me the hole," he said softly while Io sipped at the drink.
"I could not get out."
"But they were able to get you out; you are safe."
"I cannot to be there," Io sounded calmer now.
"No, you do not have to be there. We will find a different house."
"My lord." The stout man who'd brought the drink stepped forward. "With the king in residence, there will be no empty homes. Everyone started returning months ago, to be here."
"We can see if there is one who will switch with us?" Jon suggested.
"One large enough will be had by the higher lords; they will not give up what they have," Luther said.
"I could ask someone on the council to intervene for me, though I hate to make impositions so early on," Xavier said with a sigh, and he felt Io relaxing against him.
"My lord," the man, who Xavier now assumed to be the innkeeper, again spoke up. "I do not have the richest establishment, but I have a good number of rooms and a wide space out back for tents. Your pretty lady is most welcome to
stay. The women here can share rooms for a time."
"We will put them out? I do not want that," Io said and sniffed then, snuggling closer.
"Toss rocks, Lady," the woman sitting across from Io shouted and slapped the table, "You just settle here, and then we can finish teaching you how it is done."
"How what is done?" Xavier asked with some suspicion.
"How to carry more than two trays of drinks at once without spilling," Io said, and Xavier heard her smile. "They only let me carry water, but I am getting better."
"You are?" Xavier asked, setting his cheek on her head.
"Tess carries eight at once," Io told him.
"Well, that is some sport," Xavier said, doubting tray carrying was how these women made their livelihoods.
"Here we are now." The older woman who'd remove splinters returned, carrying a small pot.
"Madame Stella does not carry trays anymore," Io informed him as the woman drying Io's hands looked up and raised a brow at him.
"There comes a time when one rises above such tasks," Xavier said, holding the woman's stare. The Madame only snorted and went back to tending Io's shredded fingers.
She was about halfway through when she reminded Io to finish her drink. Xavier again lifted the cup to Io's lips, suspecting something was added to the drink to ease the suffering. As long as none of the men had concerns, Xavier wouldn't, either. His suspicions were mostly confirmed when Io's cries and whimpers became little more than gasps and moans and she relaxed more in his arms.
