Cimmerian Sunrise

Chapter 4 Pt. 3 - ***REVISED***

"Blazes and Tarnation," she quietly cursed. "Oh God... what am I going to do? I can't leave him. I can't."

She willed her legs to move, begging no grass should rustle or twig should snap beneath her feet. Sidestepping around some of the brush, Breanne endeavored to see if she could catch a view of Yagan, but was unsuccessful. The men were simply too big, and she had a sneaking suspicion that her driver was being bullied in the center of them.

Fear and anger intermingled within her while she debated what she should do. Yagan said that they were close to their destination. But how close?

She couldn't understand what the men were saying; if she were correct, they were speaking Gaelic, a language she thought had died out for the most part. The words snarled viciously on their lips. She only caught a few words of English here and there as they addressed Yagan, and couldn't help but notice that the poor man's voice quivered when he responded.

Lord, even her own hands shook; she cursed her own cowardice, willing anger to prevail over her fear. "H-How dare they bully him in such a way," she began murmuring to herself, taking unsteady steps forward. "I'll...I'll not have it," she continued, whilst wringing her hands together.

"God created this land, and we have right to walk upon it," she stated, more firmly on a nod. "And large men ought never to bully the small. It isn't right."  On that note, she neared the carriage, properly upset with the situation.

The men couldn't see her, for they had their backs to her, surrounding poor Yagan. Looking towards the carriage, she spotted the horsewhip, and quickly, quietly, retrieved it. This will make them think twice.

Yagan spoke with one of the men, and even stuttered a few times, causing her anger to rise even more, a fact she was thankful for. Finally, Yagan's eyes slipped to her own, and widened a fraction before he quickly returned his attention to the man speaking to him.

"Some warrior descendants," she muttered to herself, quietly stepping forward, "leaving their backs exposed."

She paused. What was she to do with the whip? There were too many men, and she certainly wasn't daft enough to believe that she could wallop the lot of them senseless. Perhaps her driver would help...maybe if he saw that she held a weapon of sorts, he would become confident and they could frighten the men off together.

Quietly positioning herself so that if any of the men turned around they would see her, Breanne raised the whip high above her head. Though he didn't look directly at her, she knew that Yagan saw her, and watched, taken aback as he quickly shook his head 'no.'

One of the men picked him up by the collar, holding him in the air as his words angrily lashed out at the driver. At seeing the sight, impulse took precedence over any rational thought.

"Enough is enough!" she called out furiously, cracking the whip towards the ground. It was as if a bullet shot out amongst the group.

All four men turned towards her. The man directly before her stared first in surprise, and then what appeared to be amusement, at the sight of a small woman with a carriage whip standing as if she was armed to the teeth ready to make a fight of it. Breanne's eyes traveled over the other men. They donned breeches and boots, and she struggled not to stare at their bare chests, keeping her focus on their faces. Every single one of them looked just as mean as she believed them to be.

"Release him," she ordered the man holding Yagan. He was above six feet tall, and looked to be pure muscle. The demand she gave him didn't produce any kind of reaction, save for boredom.

He continued holding poor Yagan by the scrap of the neck as if he were a puppy and then said a few quick words in Gaelic to his comrades which had the men laughing.