The Dragons Bride Ch 04

DEIDRE - 07.

The upheaval of the carriage shattered the strange, hypnotic illusion that the Emperor had placed her under, tearing the Queen from the pleasure-riddled dream to realize that everything that happened was no mere nightmare, but the true reality of her new situation. Deidre's dress was askew, linens pulled aside to reveal the pale, creamy skin of her thighs, and the Dragon of Draakar's eyes were bright with burning, interrupted intent. The Emperor had held her under his magic sway, and he had fully taken advantage of her during those moments of helplessness.

If he were any other man, she would have had him executed on the spot.

Alas, the Emperor was no mere man, and she could only reel in disbelief as she wondered just what he had done to her. The memory of the hazy moments trapped in his gaze were fuzzy, and she knew that there were moments even now that slipped from her memory, to be forgotten evermore. The sounds of the city outside were overwhelming, even with the carriage's thin walls and doors acting as a natural buffer. The vehicle's sudden, violent upturning had resulted in the Queen being inelegantly deposited into the Emperor's arms, and she found herself staring up at the darkly-armored man and his strange eyes.

What had been his goal? Why was he doing this?

No time to dwell upon it, though, not now. Not here. The screaming of a horse pierced the veil surrounding her and the dark man, and Deidre shook her head, dislodging the last of the clinging cobwebs the Emperor had set into her brain. She would speak to him later - she would demand it, if he hoped to continue with their so-called 'marriage.'

As Alric flung the door open, Deidre pushed herself into a standing position, though it was difficult with the carriage on its side. She shoved herself from the Emperor's arms, hating that he had seen her in a moment of weakness, that he had held her in a moment of weakness. She stood on one of the windows, now cracked and damaged beyond repair, looking up into the pale, shaken face of her young bodyguard.

"Are you alright, your Grace? You were not hurt?"

His voice was soft, and the way he kept looking towards the Emperor made it clear that he had not missed her position in the looming man's arms. She flushed darkly, but she was grateful that the toppled carriage cast her into shadow. Maybe he would miss the red that bloomed guiltily across her cheeks?

"I am fine, Alric - help me," she said, shortly, "and we will discuss more when I am freed."

A moment later she was just that, standing in the middle of a huddle of uniformed men - not just her own handsome silver and gold and blue soldiers, but the stern black and gold of the Emperor's uniformed men, too. They acted as a barrier, her own people shouting and screaming as they heaved in a sea of chaos around them.

She caught their words as they shouted - "Traitors! Kill the Emperor and his slut Queen!"

The words stung, even as she knew they were nonsense, perhaps even mildly justified. She was inviting a ruthless man into her home, a man who had conquered nations and executed enemies without a second thought. Could she blame her people for their fury towards her? Did she not feel the same fury for being backed into such a corner?

A rotten piece of fruit flung by her head to splatter against the underside of the carriage, and Deidre was grateful to see that it had missed her by inches. Never before had she been under the threat of a riot, and she found her heart hammering wildly, her head rushing with fear-filled thoughts. Her little army of soldiers seemed paltry compared to the massive, and growing, mob of furious citizens. What if they decided to stop throwing fruit and start doing real damage? Her protection seemed so small, now that it was in the face of true dissent.

Sudden silence rang out through the streets, the heaving, shouting, stumbling mass of people falling quiet in a strangely quick manner. She turned her head to see what could quell such a violent upheaval, but she shouldn't have been surprised when the truth stared her in the face: the Emperor.

He had pulled himself free from the carriage, taking Alric's offered hand to do so, and it was his image that finally stilled the rioting crowd. He loomed taller than any of her guards or even his own, his masked appearance striking silence into the outraged populace, staring out into the crowd as he assessed those who had only moments before been shouting their vile hatred. Not a word was spoken as he regarded them, not from her, not from the people, and not from the invader himself.

Then, with a roar, the crowd surged toward the carriage, seeing the true object of their hatred for the first time.

Deidre cried out as the carriage was lifted, thrust toward the guards and the hiding Queen - she stumbled to her knees, lost and confused amidst the panic. Some of her guards scattered and ran, but most stayed. All of the Emperor's held firm, and she wondered distantly if that was out of loyalty or fear.

She had never been in the streets of Abarra alone, and she had no idea where to even begin to flee towards. She knew of the city's districts, trade and housing and marketing being some, but she did not 'know' the districts well enough to even possibly hope to escape towards them. Bodies, people, streamed between the guards now, pushing past the pitiful defense that had merely been selected to guide her carriage to the meeting, not actually protect her.

"Ser Alric!"

A guard was shouting the man's name, shoving his way through the chaos to get to Alric. Deidre's eyes followed the man, an Agovian man named Salim, but she couldn't hear what he relayed to her personal guard. She stiffened, though, as she felt the looming presence of what could only be the Emperor come by her side. She was coming to anticipate his unique presence, the aura of soot and shadow that followed him. A hand was extended to her where she knelt, and she regarded it distrustfully.

"The citizens of Abarra do not seem to be fond of you, my Queen," he rumbled, his deep voice somehow perfectly audible despite the din of the streets.

"This welcoming party is for you, I am afraid," she said, stiffly, though she took the offered hand and pulled herself back to her feet. She tugged herself away from his touch as soon as she could, but the cold bite of his gloved hand lingered in her memory afterwards. Thankfully, during her distraction her guards had begun to form a small circle around them, closing into a tight ball, and she found herself pressed against the Emperor's thick, dark armor.

The Emperor had the audacity to chuckle, then he said, "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that the city has as much passion and strength as its Queen."

Deidre glanced at him sharply, wondering if he meant it unkindly, but the Emperor wasn't even looking at her. His dark, hidden gaze was turned towards the streets, and she thought that he was trying to determine which way to go. That was ridiculous - if anyone knew the streets less than she, it was him. A stranger here, he would be hopelessly lost if he got separated from the soldiers who guarded them.

When they got separated. Deidre bit back a warning shout as something large flew through the air - a carriage wheel?! She glanced towards the vehicle that had just carried her through her sleepy hometown, and she saw that it was being systematically torn apart by the rampaging men and women, the elegant painted wood being turned into clubs and weapons.

They needed to go, now, else the rioters would be doing more than tearing the carriage apart.

"Deidre!"

Her head snapped towards the one who called her name - no one had called her that since the death of her parents. It was Alric, though, who dared do so now, his face twisted into a mixture of fear and anger as the scene spiraled hopelessly out of control. Still, Deidre could see more and more people filling the streets, their chants chilling her blood to ice. "My Queen!" he amended, chagrined by the look on her face. "We have found a way back to the palace, but you must go alone, with only Salim and the Emperor to minimize your presence. The rest of us will remain behind to keep the riot back until you are safe back behind the palace's walls."

She understood only dimly that Alric meant to stay behind, and she looked at him, stunned by his decision. "And you, Alric? You are coming too, right?"

In the years since the assassination of her family, Alric had always been by her side. She did not know a single sick day that he'd taken, nor a holiday where he had chosen his life over hers. From the moment she had received the news of the knife in the night that had taken the Queen and King of Abarra, he had been her guardian. He had been a young soldier when he had protected her father, and now her, too. She had never let him leave her side, and he had never asked her to let him go. Now, though, he said, "I stay."

She stared at the young guard, disbelieving. Now of all times he chose to be valiant? Honorable? "You cannot," she said, stiffly, ignoring the growing chaos as more and more people slipped past the man-created barricade. A man beside her, a short, squat guard with black and gold armor, fell in a scuffle with three or four men, beaten back with wooden clubs and fearful anger. His shouts of anger turned to cries of pain, and she knew she was running out of time.

Alric's faced twisted once more, angry and despairing and something else entirely, but all he said, "Go, my Queen. Now!"

"But-"

A gloved hand snaked around her wrist, and before she could argue again, the Emperor began to haul her away. She resisted for a moment, staring at Alric, but the infuriating man had turned his back on her to face the rampaging mob. He didn't turn back toward her, and finally, she relented, allowing the Emperor to pull her between the tightly-packed walls of the city's tall, multi-colored buildings. In the darkness, the sun now entirely vanished, the only lights were those of the floating lanterns that illuminated her normally-peaceful city's streets, though some of the rioters had begun to bring out torches.

She could hear the distant chants of 'Traitors! Kill the Emperor! Kill the Queen!' Who had spread the word of the Emperor's approach? Of her own approach?

She had no time to dwell on the troubling thoughts - Salim was already leading the way into the alleyway that he'd first emerged from. He was a small, thin man, even in his blue and silver armor, and one that she didn't know well. He had the tanned skin and dark, brooding eyes that most Agovian men and women had. He was new to her rotation of guards, a quiet man, and she felt a flash of unease as she followed him into the darkness of her own city.

"Your guard is a brave man. He is a good one to keep at your side."

Deidre's eyes shifted to the Emperor, wondering at his ploy. His words were soft and easy, but he stalked through the narrow alleys with the lithe, prowling grace of a predator on the hunt. A part of her was oddly reassured at his presence, and though she still jumped with every noise she heard, she felt a little of her worry fade.

"I know," she said, after a moment's hurried silence - her slippers scuffed along the cobbled streets, and her feet ached from the uneven road. She could see the tips of the palace's spires, though, piercing through the evening sky above. They were still not close, but they were gaining ground quickly. "He was in my father's guard, too, though only for a short time before his assassination."

"Assassination?"

She heard the surprise in the Emperor's voice, and she felt a flash of surprise of her own. He hadn't known? Abarra had tried to keep the news quiet, but she had admittedly simply assumed that the Emperor's spy network would have ferreted that out for him. "Yes," she said, finding no reason to hide the truth from him. If they were to wed, then he would know soon enough. "My parents were assassinated when I was younger, though we never discovered by who or why. I thought the news was commonplace, but perhaps my spymaster deserves more credit than I give him." Her lips quirked into a small smile.

"Or, perhaps I give mine too much," the Emperor grumbled, and she once again glanced at him. His tone was troubled - did it bother him that much? He didn't say anything else, though, and neither did she. For a few minutes, the only sounds that rose between the fleeing trio were the scraping of armor against leather and soft footfalls as they scurried through the night.

"I told you I thought I saw them!"

Deidre gasped as a new voice shattered the silence, harsh and crowing with excitement. The accent of the voice was not Abarran, and as she turned, she noted immediately the disheveled, dirty appearance of the three men that stood at the end of the alleyway. They stunk of bilgewater and the sea, and she knew that they were either sailors or pirates. Neither were great to stumble upon this far into the city - that meant they likely weren't out just carousing.

No, she had high suspicions that they were likely the latter of the two options, judging by their cruel, leering appearance - pirates were the scourge of Abarra, ever a problem that the Navy struggled to tackle. Another man appeared behind the initial three, and despair began to fill her. They had been discovered so close to safety. How long until the riot shifted this way, now that the object of their hatred had been found? Almost entirely alone? She backed away, but the dark alley walls closed in on her, and she felt her panic rising.

"Shit," she thought she heard Salim snarl, and she agreed.

A large presence stepped up, and she found herself looking at the Emperor's broad, armored back. He was taller than any of the approaching pirates, but Deidre reached out and snagged his arm, hissing, "Stay back, you fool, even one man as large as you is no match for four."

"I am here, too, my Queen," came a second voice, but as Deidre turned her head to look at Salim, she reeled, stunned by the blow that came from the small man who was supposed to be protecting her. She didn't even have time to cry out as she crumpled to her knees, head pounding, thoughts scattering as she looked up and saw the slim Agovian crouching over her, hastily trying to gather her into his arms.

At the same time, the pirates lunged, seemingly realizing that their prey was being accosted by someone other than themselves. "Get her!" one of the pirates shouted, but before he could advance more than two steps, Deidre saw something miraculous about the man who stood between herself and the bandits -

The Emperor had removed his mask.

She couldn't see his face, not with his back to her, but she saw the long, black hair that cascaded down his back, a flash of pale skin as he turned his head to the side - no, wait. Not all pale. She saw, again, the smattering of dark specks, though he was too far away and it was too dark for her to make out exactly what they were.

Oddly, the pirates had frozen, their assault stopped mid-step.

"Come along, Queenie," Salim breathed, his hands grappling with her, shaking her from her shock and awe. She stumbled, pushing away from him, a scream bubbling up in her throat as she realized he intended on trying to take her somewhere, but he lifted his fist and snarled, "Quiet! Not a peep out of you, hear me?"

The Queen stared at him, horrified, furious at the audacity, her eyes going to the gauntleted fist that had sent her reeling just moments before. He was kidnapping her? After everything they'd already been through this evening? A riot wasn't enough? Her head still rung with painful throbbing waves, but despite the threat he'd voiced, her lips parted as she shouted, "Emper-"

Pain exploded as the fist quickly struck her across the face, and she fell backwards onto her butt, stunned. The slim man took her momentary confusion and used it to his advantage, his arms grabbing her wrists and hauling them behind her back. Then he was urging her up, forcing her to stand, shoving her forward with stumbling steps. His hands were free over her, grabbing handfuls of her breasts and squeezing her hips and ass, all under the pretense of urging her deeper into the dark alley. Humiliation flooded her with each cruel grasp.

Desperately, Deidre glanced over her shoulder to the Emperor, crying, "Aurixis! What are you doing? Help me!"

He had not moved toward her, not budged an inch, but she saw from the profile of his face that his lips moved silently, while his gaze was locked upon the four pirates. Deidre grunted as the guard dragged a handkerchief from his pocket, shoving it between her lips, preventing her from calling to the Emperor again. She tasted sweat on the dirty cloth, and bile rose sharply in her gut, mingling with the growing fear as she realized that no help would be coming from the dark man.

"Shut up!" Salim growled, but she saw him look over his shoulder, also surprised by the Emperor's inactivity. But, despite his surprise, the traitorous guard was happy to take advantage of the large man's stillness. Was he letting her get kidnapped? Was this the Emperor's plan all along? Her mind reeled desperately, trying to make sense of how everything had gone so wrong. Salim added, his voice thick with lust, "You're coming with me, Your Grace - I know someone who is willing to pay big bucks for you."

The Emperor didn't look at her as Salim forced her deeper into the alleyway, separating her from her last hope - or, her damnation.

- - - - -

AURIXIS - 08.

The Last of the pirates fell to their knees, face nearly purple, hands scrabbling for his neck as he realized too late that he had lost control of something important - himself.

"Die," Aurixis rumbled, annoyed, furious that it had taken so long to get the men under his glamour. Oh, they had immediately fallen still, stunned by the cruel visage of the Emperor once he had withdrawn his mask, but it had taken several minutes to convince their panicking minds that the best course of action would be to suffocate themselves. Several minutes too long, he had quickly realized.

The Queen was gone.

Had she fled? Or been taken while his attention had been drawn elsewhere? He hadn't heard a thing, the effort it had taken to cast a glamour on four full-grown men after already being exhausted from using it on the Queen - well, it had simply taken too much from him. At least three had finally caved - the fourth now, finally, had lost his will, but Aurixis saw the terror in his eyes that told him that the glamour was in full-effect.

It was much easier to keep one man subdued than four.

Aurixis's eyes narrowed as he saw the man's lips opening, closing, his tongue bulging as he tried to babble something between pale, spittle-flecked lips - "Wait-"

He didn't have time to wait. He had to go hunt down his Queen, to either save her or upbraid her for being foolish enough to run off without him. But despite himself, Aurixis relented the glamour, though only just long enough for the man to suck in greedy, gasping lung-fulls of air, blubbering and sobbing as his hands now tenderly patted at his throat, rather than squeezed it.

"What? What do you want?" Aurixis asked, not sure why he was bothering to ask. But he knew nothing of Abarra, and he knew his only chance was to hope that the pirate knew something that might aid him in tracking down the Queen. "Do you know something?"

His deep, raspy voice caused the man to jerk in terror, but the fool started speaking immediately, blathering, "The Agovian! The guard! I - I've seen him before!"

The Agovian? It took a moment for Aurixis to recall the short, slight fellow who had been leading himself and the Queen through the alleyways, but once he did, he cursed. That had been what had happened to the Queen - he recalled short snippets, now, of the Queen's voice piercing through the alley, calling for him.