Chapter 16
XVI.
His body screamed, but the low throbbing aches commanded his attention.
He bled from intimate places. His back accumulated a wealth of cuts and bruises.
His eye swelled shut. His jaw would sport the telling signs of his nightly activities.
This was the fourth consecutive night of Her visits, Her rage knowing no bounds in the aftermath of Rivani’s forgiveness.
He had even offered to submit, hoping it would diminish the retribution She would take upon him.
She wanted no such offer. She preferred a more violent demonstration of Her dissatisfaction with him.
“I beg Thee.” He pressed his side against the wall and cowered, protecting his face with his arms and letting his shoulder and back receive the blows.
It took a few moments for the welts to begin to burn.
The onslaught did not stop. The blood welled from the wounds.
It was useless to plead, but he still did even after all the years. “Pray, no more.”
You need to remember Whom you serve, She told him, the lash having stopped with Her response.
His arms dropped with the cessation of the assault and he struggled to his knees, fighting to move against the hobbles that hindered his movements. He kept his head lowered, both in humility and in wariness lest She resume Her corrections.
“Thou art the Object of mine obedience. Yet, through Thy mandates, Y must serve others.”
The Shadow lifted his face and held his chin in a grasp that could easily have snapped his neck, despite the increased bulk gained from recent gifts.
What should I take from you next? She purred.
Should I take away what remains of your voice?
Or perhaps.... She regarded him, dropped his chin, and ran Her hand over the chain tether that attached to the irons around his wrists.
Perhaps I should give you new hands, She mused.
What do you think? What would make you less human to her?
He studied his hands, palms up, and shuddered. They were already monstrous and unnatural, but the threat of losing them in some new transformatively debilitating way knotted his insides.
“Y beg Thee no,” he whispered.
SHE FORGAVE YOU!
For the whole of a moment, Rivani’s undeserved kindness offered him strength. He raised his head and stared Her down.
“Aye, she dyd and Thou canst not bear yt that, despyte all that Thou hast done to repel others, she hath chewsen to stay with me.”
The darkness engulfed him when She lashed out once more.
Rivani thought that they were getting along again after their long walk together.
Granted, things were strained since they were starting again, but she had not seen him in several days.
She understood if she needed space or if biological necessity compelled them to be apart, but it did not feel right after their talk.
Perhaps he needed space this time. After a few days something had to be amiss.
She conjured terrible scenarios. What if he had been hunting and a boar injured him?
What if someone else stumbled into the forest like she had and brought weapons? What if he lay bleeding out somewhere?
She called for him in the vegetable garden and searched the orchard.
She wandered several of the deer paths and explored the perimeter of the outer curtain wall.
Initially, she told herself to be calm, that all would be well, that he would be found.
With every passing hour, she grew more concerned.
Without realizing her progress, she found herself in front of the door in the overgrown wall, the door that led to the rose bush courtyard.
She had a momentary panic, her physical being recalling its terror even as her mind called her an idiot.
She had not revisited the rose bush since that fateful day that trapped her here for a year.
She contemplated returning at several instances, but each time her heart raced and she delayed the excursion.
The creature she feared that day had become her friend.
She benefited from the arrangement. She told herself she had no cause to fear what was on the other side of that wall.
The courtyard, unchanged since her first visit, prickled her skin.
She shied away from everything that once earned her appreciation.
She twitched at the shadows. The pristine landscaping unnerved her.
The serene changeless beauty of the roses disturbed her.
There was something ominous about the bush that wouldn’t die or fade with the seasons.
She did not know why she couldn’t see it before.
She stood in front of the bush, though at a safe distance, and then took another step back just in case.
“I don’t know what you are,” she said, “but there is something wrong with you.” She scanned the courtyard again and directed her attention to the top of the staircase. She hadn’t been up there yet.
She climbed one side of the horseshoe-shaped stairway and brushed her hand over the masonry wall in search of the doorway. Nestled in the darkness at the end of the loggia balcony, she pushed the door in. It brought her through a brief gallery that opened into Baró’s bed-chamber.
“Baró?”
Little indication existed that Baró had been there.
With nothing out of place, she moved into the anteroom and took a quick look around.
Nothing appeared out of place either until she headed towards the doorway, back to the great hall.
In front of the hearth, on the worn pallet, a large, curled-up shape shifted.
“Baró?” She moved closer. He wore dried blood on his back and the lower parts of his legs. “Oh my gods!” She ran over to him. “Baró, Baró, please.”
He groaned as she roused him and then whimpered at being touched.
He jerked away and struggled to rise, stumbling and falling, managing only to get to all fours so that he could put the wall at his back.
His ears on alert, his fur bristled, his eyes wide, nostrils flared, he growled low in his throat like an ensnared animal.
She did not move from her spot by the hearth, afraid she would distress him further. Instead, she tried to recall him like she would an abused dog or mistreated horse. She kept her voice low and steady.
“Baró. Baró. It’s me, Baró. It’s your Rivani. Do you know me?”
She held a hand out, offering him her scent without approaching.
“I’ve missed you, Baró. I thought that perhaps you wanted space or needed time away from me. I think I wove a dozen baskets or more a day worrying about you and hoping you would come back to me. Today, I couldn’t sit still and had to find you.”
It took a while to get through but when his eyes softened and his shoulders relaxed, Rivani too eased. She had broken some barrier even if his shallow breathing and his alert posture spoke of an animal ready to bolt.
“Baró? Can you tell me what happened?”
“‘Tis of no concern to thee,” he rasped out, ducking his head to hide the worst injuries of his face.
“‘Of no concern?!”
Rivani tore at her hair in frustration, so afraid she would lose her calm exterior.
She took a deep breath, trying to reign in her wild, conflicted emotions at seeing his injuries and encountering his infuriating stubbornness.
She unclenched her hands and released her hair, trying not to imagine adding to his injuries, although she wanted to smack him upside the head.
“You are my companion, my friend, my provider. This is completely my concern.”
Switching back to Rivanic might draw him from wherever he had retreated. She did not approach him, though, like any injured wild animal, but she stood so that she could cross over to him when he would allow.
“What happened, Baró? Another visitation?” She might not have enough boarberry and julica to last through the winter.
“Every nyght. From Her,” he said. “The ynjuryes doth not last. Save thy balms for hunting ynjuries and accydents. Y wyll requyre thy bootes thanne.”
A bruise covered one side of his face from temple to chin, a gash across his cheek and another over his snout, the latter healing now, but angry.
His lower lip split and swelled. His right eye, also severely bruised, might have been swollen shut a day or two ago.
As he wore no shirt, the bruising offset all the lacerations on his chest, arms, and shoulders.
His wrists and ankles, both sets bruised like last time, wore a significant amount of dried blood.
The visible signs of his abuse continued down along his hips.
She crossed over to him to see the rest of his wounds.
She reached out to touch and reassure him.
He jerked away from her. “Pray,” he whispered, “no touchyng. Y cannot bear yt.”
“Baró, tell me what happened.”
He shook his head, still trying to keep his face averted. She accepted his silence. She had seen Baró vulnerable before, but he had not displayed signs of his distress. Maybe he desired to appear strong. Maybe he needed permission not to be.
“If you need to cry, I will not think less of you for it.”
“Yf only. Crying hath been taken as anymals doth not cry.” His body shuddered in a mirthless laugh.
Rivani reached out to touch him but caught herself. She wanted to tell him that he wasn’t an animal, or wasn’t just an animal, or any number of dumb platitudes that might soothe his wounded tone. She would worry about healing, emotional and physical, afterward when he was amenable to it.
“How do we stop this from happening again?”
“Cesfationne of the Magyc, but lyfe beeth dyffycult here without yt. Wouldst thou be able to manage?”
“We agreed.” Did she imagine it or had his brows grown heavier? “I told the Magic that this morning’s tray would be the last.”
“A surprise that She hath not mentionned yt to me.”