"The Sunrider Saga Book One: Chapter Three" by Elizabeth D. Walker aka ´Moth´

Chapter Three

            “What were you doing at the Sun Rider Headquarters today, girl?” Perkins demanded, his face ruddy and his generous jowls shaking. The sight would have been comical if Iolanthe weren’t aware of how violently angry he was at the moment.

            As soon as she had returned home in the golden carriage she had found her uncle in the stable waiting for her, hands on his hips, a vein in his red forehead bulging and pulsating. She couldn’t even get her mouth open before he’d grabbed her roughly by the arm, hauled her into the mansion, up the stairs, into his private chambers and thrown her into the chair she was currently occupying by the fire.

He was leaning over her now, his hands on the arm rests and his face uncomfortably close to hers. He had a tendency to spit when he was riled and Iolanthe now had quite a wet face, but she dare not wipe it. She was brave just breathing in her uncle’s presence when he was in a mood like this.

She took a deep breath to gather some courage and then opened her mouth to reply, “I went to-”

            “Yes?” he hissed, cutting her off.

            “I went to check the arrangements they were making for my dowry. I am so anxious that it get there,” she said as innocently as she could manage, batting her big eyes behind her heavy veil. One thing that had always worked in her favor was the fact that her uncle generally and without exception tended to underestimate her in all things.

            “Hmmm,” Perkins said, turning away from her thoughtfully for a moment, “That is probably a good idea,” he rubbed his chin, specifically the cleft in his chin, thoughtfully. “Gods know that I would never have my son take you without that.”

            The remark stung Iolanthe almost as much as if he had slapped her, which her uncle still might do if she failed to convince him she was telling the truth.

            “Why did you take this duty upon yourself?” he demanded, turning back to her with narrowed eyes.

            “You have so much to do, Uncle,” she purred softly. “I thought to take some of the burden off your shoulders and hoist it on my own pitiful ones. Forgive me if I have overstepped my place,” she said, demurely lowering her eyes.

            Over the past few years Iolanthe had given up fighting back against her uncle and had learned to subdue her naturally assertive nature. She had discovered that she made more headway with her uncle if he thought she was broken, submissive, and ready to do his bidding. That way he wouldn’t investigate and take away the bodyguard that she so desperately needed. And wanted…

            Her uncle studied her for a moment, trying to figure out what she was trying to do. “You did overstep your bounds,” he told her harshly.

            Iolanthe inadvertently drew in her breath and held it.

            “But I will forgive you because we will not be together much longer,” he started to walk away from her but then turned back, “Just don’t ever do it again,” he barked at her and slammed the door, leaving her alone by the fire in his study as he went off to make some other preparation for her coming nuptials.

            Iolanthe flinched and let her breath out, her shoulders sagging. She often speculated to herself now what life with Leoric would be like. They hadn’t seen each other in years and she wondered if he was as bad as her uncle, or better, or much, much worse. After all, there was a quite important upside to living with her uncle: she didn’t have to sleep with him. She would probably be required to sleep with Leoric. Unless he didn’t like her and decided to lock her in a dungeon or a tower or some other awful place. Or if he were impotent. But that seemed almost too much to hope for. He was only thirty or so, after all. But perhaps if he could content himself with other women. Or other men, perchance. There was just so much to think about and so much uncertain and dreadful looming above her in her future that Iolanthe was finding it harder and harder to sleep each night.

            But then she began to divert her mind with thoughts of the excellent looking men she had found residing at the Sun Rider’s Headquarters. Particularly the Sunrider brothers themselves. Wouldn’t it be nice if one of them showed up as her bodyguard, particularly if it was the dark-eyed one. He was so very striking. It was not often you saw one so fair with eyes so dark.

But that wasn’t very likely. I mean, if you have your own business to run you don’t usually go out on the expeditions yourselves, that’s what you have subordinates for.

            The day that Iolanthe’s journey was to begin came all too soon, and all too quickly that morning her official escorts arrived. Four fat, drunken, filthy louts who looked more likely to rob her themselves than they were to protect her from theft. She could not have imagined characters more different than the honorable Sun Riders if she had tried. As the time drew nearer and nearer for her to depart, unescorted, with these questionable characters her apprehension grew almost to the point of hysteria.

            She cast her eyes about impatiently for any sign of the secret Sun Rider that was supposed to be accompanying her. But the longer she waited the more she despaired. Apparently they had not sent anyone after all. Maybe they had even sent her necklace back and it had been intercepted by her uncle. A thousand fearful thoughts filled her head and made her dizzy as she was handed into the great golden carriage and settled herself into the comfortably plush seats of the interior. She leaned her head out the window and turned around to look once more, but again she saw no dashing, obviously heroic stranger riding behind them to protect her from these certain fiends she would soon ride away with.

            “Let us go,” the leader of the Birkanna brothers growled. He was a large man with a long scraggly beard that had bits of food and other unsavory substances caught up in it.

            Iolanthe swallowed and nodded behind the glittery pink veil she was wearing. It was not quite so dark as some of her other shrouds so it allowed for a degree of easier movement than most of the others.

Her carriage driver nodded to her and flicked the ornate reins over the splendid white rumps of the horses pulling the coach. Iolanthe was pressed back against the seat as the company moved forward. She sniffed inaudibly beneath her veil, positive that she would never make it to Ronquiay now. And then a flash of hot anger as red as the hair that fell in a long braid down her back swelled up inside her.

            How dare those Sun Riders cheat her out of the lawful protection she had paid for! They had promised her! If ever she saw any of those yellow-haired braggarts again she would give them a rather large piece of her mind and certainly a sound tongue-lashing.

            Well, there she is, Lachlan said to himself as he watched the small caravan of horses, men and that horrible golden carriage, pour out in a single file line from the gate of the huge house on Gracetemple Street.

At least, he thought it was the Jace Heiress. The puffy outline created by her pink and gold brocade dress was familiar and she was wearing a long veil like the one the Heiress wore, and it was the same carriage, after all.

            Lachlan frowned as the gate closed behind the traveling party and he realized just how small it was. Earlier that morning he had watched the preparations being made for the journey of her dowry. No expense had been spared with regards to protecting that, but for her it was obvious that every penny that could be pinched had been.

There were only four men, not counting Lachlan, of course, guarding her, which was pure lunacy considering the number of non-combatants in the party, and the mode in which they were traveling. A golden carriage for goodness sake! If common bandits didn’t get them the trolls certainly would when they went over the mountains.

First there was the girl herself, plus two of her maids, and then there were an additional two servants driving the golden carriage piled high with all the luggage and supplies of the trip, which also looked too meager to make it across the continent. That count made for five non-combatants, which meant they outnumbered the guards, which wasn’t even a good idea when one was making a short run outside the protective walls of the city in rags and on foot, let alone with luggage in a GOLDEN carriage, trying to go all the way to Ronquiay, across the continent, with only four idiots and their rusty swords to protect you was suicide….

            Lachlan was beginning to see why the girl had come to them. He wasn’t sure he believed her story- yet- but it was beginning to gain credence. He pulled the hood of his cloak more closely about his face and kicked his horse forward to trail behind the golden carriage at a safe distance. He looked up at the sky and just hoped it didn’t rain. The last thing he needed was black stuff running down his face right now.

Lachlan was trying to make himself inconspicuous, so he had turned his sun shaped brooch over and into the collar of his cloak so it was hidden and would not betray his identity, and taken a few other measures to help him merge into the crowd of the city. He blended well into the flow of traffic and was soon following at only a short distance behind their party as they drove through the crowded streets of the city.

            The heiress was silent and sullen inside her golden cage, which Lachlan had to admit was a fine piece of gaudiness, and she certainly had to be a brave woman to be able to ride in that thing. Or a very foolish one.

Lachlan was wearing his sword and had a bow and arrows strapped to his back, but that it was not at all uncommon in Aganto to see an anonymous Sun Rider about town with his weapons. No one blinked an eye at him as he rode along.

The girl had asked for discretion, he was going to be invisible. And if he played his part well she, and most especially her guards, would never know he was with them.

He suddenly realized he had an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach as he rode along behind them. And he couldn’t put his finger on why. He often got this twinge in his stomach before an attack or some other catastrophe occurred on the trail. Once he had even awakened in the middle of the night with the feeling brewing inside of him, and the next morning he’d discovered his parents and two of his older brothers had been slain.

Yeah, the feeling was never wrong. So, Lachlan’s hand fell to the dagger at his waist and he readied himself for whatever it was.

            Lachlan was beginning to think the sense was wrong, however, when they reached the city gates some minutes later without incident.

            As the small wedding party and a few others who had gathered by the city gates passed through, Lachlan noticed the girl sticking her veiled head out to look around and behind her again. She had done this several times before and Lachlan could only suppose she was searching for him, although how she thought she would find her Sun Rider when she didn’t even know what he was supposed to look like was beyond Lachlan. Her eyes strayed in his direction once but showed no sign of recognition and moved on quickly to the rest of the crowd before she turned back around in her seat and sighed in exasperation.

            “What are you looking for?!” one of her guards barked at her, shoving aside the heavy curtain on the carriage and giving her a frightful shock. Her maids sensed her uneasiness and leaned forward quickly to soothe her. She waved them away and stuck her head out the window to converse with the guard who had spoken.

            “I so seldom get out of the house,” she said wistfully, and as vapidly as she could manage. “I am just trying to take in the sights on this joyous journey,” she managed to make the remark sound mildly enthusiastic but couldn’t keep all sarcasm out of it.

            Fortunately, her guards didn’t detect the subtext. They laughed and winked at each other knowingly and in a way that was more than slightly disconcerting. In fact, their whole demeanor made Iolanthe quite uneasy and had since their first entry into her home to bargain with her uncle. 

            “Don’t worry, milady,” one of them sneered at her. “You’ll see plenty of sights before this trip is over.”

            “Oh excellent,” she said and gave an uneasy laugh. “No dragons, though, I hope,” she continued, her voice a bit strained and strident.

            Again the sneering laughter erupted from her escorts and for the thousandth time she laid a curse on the entire core of Sun Riders and most especially the brothers in charge.

            Once outside the city walls they began to ride through the great stretch of grassland known as the Dead Land. It was called the Dead Land because nothing but the waist high, gray, dead-looking Mort grass grew there, and because this was the area where the most marauder attacks occurred. And where mysterious demon creatures had been reported, snatching people away into thin air, never to be heard from again. There was a small road cut through the tall grass and paved with gravel that all travelers leaving the city had to roll over at some point or another. It was well-worn and easy to follow. No mort grass grew on the road but was high and healthy on each side of it, looming over travelers and communicating a kind of foreboding doom as they hurried on their way through it and deeper into the Dead Land.

            Iolanthe folded back a small corner of her curtain and watched the last of the armed parties that had been accompanying them from inside the city turn off on a different road. Then she realized with a start that her group alone remained on this narrow side road, which was overgrown with Mort grass and almost impassable in places. She began to wonder why they were taking a different route from all the other caravans and then realized that it was because they were just going farther than the other parties. Or at least that was the reason that she fervently hoped was true.

            She noticed two of her “guards” were moving from the back of the carriage to ride on each side of it. Iolanthe raised a trembling hand to adjust the small raised cap she was wearing today to support her veil. It was the same dark pink of her dress and it came to a small rounded point at the top. She adjusted the veil over her face as she noticed her guards eyeing her and then instantly let her arm in its thick stiffly shaped bell sleeve fall into her lap.

            Aidda leaned over her to shut the curtain with finality and then leaned back. The other maid was a young, timorous looking yellow-haired wench with pale green eyes who seemed to jump at everything. Perkins had hired her. His choice, not Iolanthe’s.

            Iolanthe began to pick uneasily at her dress as the other two bodyguards and their horses moved closer to the carriage.

Suddenly, the wagon came to a quick stop and they were all thrown askew for a moment. Aidda motioned for her to stay put and stepped out of the wagon to see what was wrong.

Iolanthe and the other maid waited in awkward silence for a moment and then a piercing scream split the air.

“Aidda!” Iolanthe cried and threw open the door.

She was momentarily blinded coming from the dimness of the carriage into the harsh light of day, but as her eyes adjusted a vision of one of the guards with his knife in Aidda’s belly came into view.

            Iolanthe barely had time to feel shock before one of the goons lurched towards her and dragged her onto his horse. He pulled her in front of him on his saddle and the pummel dug painfully into her stomach as he turned off the road and galloped through the high grass towards a small clearing about twenty feet or so off to the side of the road. She heard metal clashing and her other maid began screaming from the road.

            “What’s going on!?” she cried up to her captor as he rode through the thick field. A shaft of grass smacked her in the face and nearly fetched her veil away but she held fast to it and though she could hear some of it ripping away the veil remained safely over her face as they continued at their breakneck pace through the grass.

            Her captor leered down at her and gave her rump a hearty smack, which she barely felt through her thick skirts. “You’ll see.”

            He reined his horse in the middle of the clearing and started to dismount. Iolanthe threw herself backwards off the saddle and landed rudely on her rump in the recently cut grass. She tried to get up again as he came towards her but her feet got caught up in her huge, stiff, ungainly skirt and she was easily caught again.

            He brutally grabbed her tiny hands and held them in one of his fleshy paws as he removed his belt and wrapped it cruelly tight around her wrists.

            “What are you doing?” Iolanthe demanded loudly and began to struggle in his grasp.

            He drew his hand back and slapped her hard across the face, so hard she was knocked senseless for a moment and would have stumbled to the ground had he not already been holding her. He laughed haughtily as he let his hands roam freely over her body. 

            One of his brothers rode up a moment later and dismounted.

            “Well?” the one still holding her demanded.

            The other one shrugged. “We killed the one who came out of the carriage first-”

            “Aidda!” Iolanthe moaned, still light-headed.

            Her captor shook her and raised his hand again threateningly. She glared at him behind her slightly skewed veil but said nothing and did nothing. One hit had been enough to subdue her. For now. 

            “And the others?”

            The new man shrugged, “We killed the drivers and I’m letting Data and Dole have their fun with the remaining maid.”

            “You bastards!” Iolanthe spat at them with feeling and a deep pain cutting through her at the thought of what that poor girl was probably going through even at this moment. Inadvertently, tears came to her eyes and poured down her cheeks.

            “Don’t worry,” said the new guy. He grabbed her chin through the veil and roughly turned her face up to his. “You won’t be left out of the fun.” He turned to his brother. “Hold her, Dolph,” he ordered.

            Dolph jerked her away from his brother. “Nuh-uh, Dart. You hold her. I caught her. She’s mine first.”

            Dart nodded and grudgingly held his arms out as Dolph shoved Iolanthe to him. Dart started to grab her veil and yank it off but Dolph stopped him.

            “Leave it,” he said and smiled, showing crooked, rotting teeth. “It’s kind of kinky.”

            “Fine!” Dart spat impatiently. He fixed her veil, roughly adjusting the hat that had somehow magically stayed on her head through everything. She struggled in his grasp but the belt Dolph had tied was secure and Dart still held her bound wrists steadily with his other greasy hand, and even though his considerable bulk was all fat he was still stronger than her.

            “Well,” Dolph barked at Dart as he fumbled with his pants. “Get her on the ground.” 

            Dart grunted and wrestled Iolanthe to the ground as she fought and kicked at him, but her feet got tangled in her stupid skirt again and she was easily pinned under him.

            His weight pressed down on her for a long moment, threatening to crush her as he stared at her face through the veil. “Hmm,” he said with grotesque pleasure as he rubbed his rough cheek against hers. “I’ll definitely remove the veil for my turn,” he told her and then rolled away.

            “May the marauders take you both!” she spat at them and lashed out, landing a lucky kick that caught Dart on the chin. But Dolph was already lifting her skirts and easing himself on top of her. And Dart was holding her wrists much too tightly to allow for any real chance of escape.

            Iolanthe shut her eyes and fought back the tears lying in wait behind her eyes. She wasn’t going to give these bastards the pleasure of turning her into their whimpering pathetic little prey. She closed her eyes and chewed on her lower lip, bracing herself for the worst as Dolph, despite her best efforts, managed to force her legs apart with his knee.

            She was a maiden and she couldn’t help but think how awful it was that she was going to be defiled like this and probably killed before she had ever even had a chance to live. She started to curse the Sun Riders and all their children’s children’s children, but then an image of the brown-eyed brother- what was his name?- came to her mind’s eye and lingered there.

Magically the hands clasping her already constricted wrists tight enough to crush them disappeared and the horrible weight pressing on top of her was lifted before it even came close to violating her. She waited for the sensation to pass and the pain and terror to return but then she heard an oddly familiar voice over her say, “All you all right, my lady?”

            She opened her eyes and stared through her pink gauze at the face of the brown-eyed brother she had just been thinking of. She blinked and her eyes widened. “How-” she broke off as she sat up and looked around her to find her two attackers slain and lying dead in red puddles next to her.

            She stood up with her savior’s help and realized with a start that she was fine. Complete, whole and utterly untouched.

            “Are you all right, Heiress?” he asked again, more urgently this time, as he unwrapped Dolph’s belt from her wrists and then began to rub the chafed skin to kelp her start her circulation flowing again.

            She opened her mouth several times in an attempt to reply and then her eyes rolled to the back of her head and she fainted.

            Lachlan caught her easily and swept her feet out from under her. For a woman she was surprisingly heavy, and then he decided it was probably because of her weighty dress and its stiff fabric. He noticed there was a small blood stain along the hem and hoped it was from one of her attackers. He just prayed she wasn’t going to yell at him for ruining her pretty dress, which, by the way, was completely impractical on the trail.

            He carried her back to the road where the attack had first happened and set her down inside the golden carriage next to her surviving maid, who smiled gratefully at Lachlan. She had been smiling ever since he’d shot the two Birkannas trying to gang rape her on the road. He idly wondered if her face hurt from all that smiling, as it surely must because she had been doing it perpetually.

            Lachlan swore silently to himself as he looked at the blood stained road and the dead bodies. He had killed all the treacherous Birkanna brothers, but he couldn’t help but feel a little guilty. If he had investigated more thoroughly perhaps, or rode ahead or…done something more, three innocent people wouldn’t have died.

            “Sir!” the maid cried and Lachlan whirled around. “She’s waking up.”

            Lachlan hurried back into the carriage with the two women and leaned over the heiress stretched out on the plush red velvet seat.

            She opened her eyes and looked at him blankly for a moment. And then she smiled slightly. He realized she actually had quite a pretty face, which he hadn’t noticed before because of her particularly opaque purple veil. He was a little annoyed, though, at not being able to tell the exact color of her wonderful eyes because of the obscuring veil.

            He started to lift it to make it easier for her to breath but she stopped him by laying her hand on his arm. He felt chills go up his spine and wondered why.

            “Are you all right?” he asked her a little impatiently for the third time.

            “Yes,” she said at last with a little labor. “Aidda?” she asked, turning to her maid.

            The yellow haired girl shook her head. “Dead.”

            Iolanthe took a deep breath. “Yes, they said that. Jon? Or Garfthe?” she inquired hopefully, looking around at her two companions.

            “They weren’t lying,” Lachlan told her gently. “The killers, I mean. You two are the only ones left.”

            “Thanks to you,” the maid grinned, although there was a bit of the interrogative in the statement as she stared at him levelly with her off-putting, shrewd green eyes. 

            “Yes, of course,” Iolanthe said with a start, taking his hand and clasping it gratefully. “I…I thought you’d let me down. Abandoned me or rejected the contract or something.”

            Lachlan was mildly offended. “You’re the one who wanted me to be discreet,” he snorted.

            Iolanthe laughed in self-deprecation, shaking her head. “Good job,” she said with levity. And then she frowned again behind the veil as she began to take in the scene on the road. Aidda’s body lay near the carriage, a bloody spot on her stomach, and not far from her were Jon and Garfthe, Iolanthe’s drivers, with their throats slit. A little farther behind them, lying on top of each other, were two of the Birkannas with arrows in their backs. “Oh, gods,” she murmured, her creamy white hand going to her throat to hold back the wave of nausea threatening to overtake her.

            “My lady,” Lock said in alarm.

            “I’m fine,” Iolanthe waved him away.

            “I’m sorry I couldn’t save them,” Lachlan said with feeling, his dark brown eyes soft.

            Iolanthe nodded and patted his hand. “You couldn’t have known they would do this,” she said, waving her hand but not looking at the scene around her again. She stared into his eyes, “I’m just glad you came at all.”

            “Me too,” the maid put in with feeling.

            Lachlan smiled at both of them, little laugh lines that Iolanthe had not noticed in their first meeting appearing around his eyes.

            “What now?” Iolanthe asked him brusquely.

            He took a deep breath, a little surprised at her frankness. He wasn’t use to high born ladies being so blunt with him. “Well, we get some horses and head towards an inn I know.”

            “What about the carriage?” Iolanthe asked.

            Lachlan steeled himself for an outburst but was ready to argue the point with her if he had to. “Unless you object,” he took a deep breath and eyed her speculatively. “I thought we’d leave it.”

            It was the maid who exploded with, “Are you mad, Sun Rider?! That carriage is gold! It’s worth a fortune-”

            “All right,” Iolanthe said blandly to Lock with a shrug as she cut off her presumptuous maid’s tirade.

            Lock was surprised, but pleasantly. He smiled brightly at Iolanthe and then went to collect the various horses mulling about on the road.       

“What are we going to the inn for?” Iolanthe inquired curiously but without the least bit of dissension as he began to unfasten the carriage horses from their rig.

            “We might be able to meet up with some my brothers there,” Lachlan told Iolanthe shortly.

            “You have brothers?” the maid asked eagerly, her green eyes glinting.