Idoneo: Latin form of Old Norse Iðunnr, meaning “again to love.”
Her long red hair was bound, for the first time in her life, as was proper for a newly companioned Free Woman. She turned her head slightly to look in the mirror, admiring the work of her slave and the rosy glow of her skin, as she smiled in satisfaction, thinking about yesterday’s ceremony and last night’s consummation.
She left her room, the one she now shared with her companion, and went in search of him. On finding him, she linked her arm through his, beaming up at him as they strolled the grassy land between the village and the forest. Stopping near a strand of trees, he turned to her and lightly touched her face.
“Are you happy, my dear?” he asked with a smile.
She nodded, radiant with her feelings for him, her childhood companion and love of her life. “I am so happy, Robert. But there is something I wish to tell you.”
He tilted his head inquiringly, holding his tongue to allow her speech.
“The people you know as my parents are not really my parents,” she informed him, searching his face for signs of shock. “My real mother was a forest girl, and she gave me to Alair and Silva to raise, as she couldn’t.”
He started to question her, but his attention was caught by the sight of a woman stepping out from the trees. She looked just like Idonea, only slightly older and dressed in panther attire. His gaze traveled down and then lingered on a scrap of material tied rather carelessly around her leg, the edges of a dina brand peeking out. The woman readjusted the fabric to hide her brand and, as quickly as she had revealed herself, she was gone again, hidden within the tree line.
His jaw tightened, and he looked back at Idonea, his hands gripping her upper arms painfully. “You are the daughter of a slave?” he questioned angrily. He shook her, his voice rising, “YOU are a slave!”
He pushed her away from him, lips twisting in disgust, and she fell to the ground, looking up at him with fat tears welling in her wide eyes. How had he guessed? She hadn’t intended to tell him that part.
Pacing, he muttered to himself, and then turned to her once more. “You slut! How could you not tell me this before we were companioned?” She cried softly, knowing she was to blame. She had held the truth from him, fearing it might change the way he saw her. But this was the boy she had played with as a child, the young man she had told all of her secrets to as a teen-ager, the man she had fallen so deeply in love with. Why didn’t he treat her as he always had? Did he no longer love her?
“You are now a slave, Idonea. It is my right to declare you as such, and that’s what you are. I will collar you and sell you to the next slaver passing by. I will hope that I never see you again,” he fairly yelled the words at her, his brow drawn, face dark with rage.
The color drained from her face. Her mother had told her how horrible it was to be a slave. She had advised her over and over again to always behave properly, to be safe, to take no chances, lest she become a slave herself. She had told Idonea how she had fallen in love with her Master, how he had abandoned her, and how she had escaped to the forests, heartbroken.
She sobbed, “Please, no, Robert. I am a Free Woman, not a slave. I will leave, if you so desire, but please don’t enslave me!”
He kicked at her leg. “Silence! You were born a slave, and that’s where you… ” His words were cut off as his eyes widened, and he fell forward, slumping into the ground beside her, a long dagger protruding from his back.
She screamed, holding her hands to her mouth in horror at the copious amounts of blood seeping from him. Looking up, she saw her birth mother standing there, a hard look in her eyes.
“Mother…?” Idonea questioned softly. She had no desire to be enslaved, but she didn’t wish her betrayer, her love, to die either. Her mother shook her head sharply before leaning over to haul the younger woman to her feet.
“Get your brother and hires two guards, then leave this place. It was wrong of me to keep you here close to me, but it was wrong of you to trust a man. You can never trust a man, Idonea!”
Idonea swallowed hard, her face stained with tears and dirt, then turned to run, fleeing the hurt inflicted on her by a man and her mother. She packed hastily, made her explanation to her family and, within the hour, she was riding in a wagon with her brother, escorted by two guards.
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