Elena the Brave by Julie Mathison

Elena the Brave by Julie Mathison

Author:Julie Mathison
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Julie Mathison
Published: 2022-03-01T00:00:00+00:00


23 * The Barrow

THE ROAR of the rapids grew, a steady rush that filled Elena with excitement, even as she struggled to be heard above the noise.

“But why can’t we try?” she cried as they maneuvered closer to the eastern bank. She turned to look over her shoulder to where Mitya had taken up the stern position. “Didn’t you say the first rapids weren’t too bad?”

“I said not as bad as the Aifur, Elena,” he said, clearly exasperated as he struggled against the growing pull of the current, “which isn’t saying much! Now—row!”

Elena turned back to put some muscle into it. The sun might now rise and set on Mitya’s handsome, sun-browned face, on that spark of humor that sometimes peeked out of his eyes like a stowaway who had crept in while he wasn’t looking, and he did pretty much make her knees feel like mush whenever he so much as looked at her, let alone when he, well, um—but criminy, he was a spoilsport!

“I still think we could manage it,” she said to no one in particular, for by now, the sound of the rapids filled all their ears. Even Sasha was helping out, using his fishing rod to pole them through the shallows that they’d drifted into—the last such haven in sight. Within moments, Mitya was able to splash waist high into the water and pull the boat up against the bank.

“I’ve got it,” Elena said, leaping onto shore, then leaning out to grab onto the gunwale and cinch it against the bank. It took the three of them to maneuver it ashore, Sasha and Mitya in the river, heaving the vessel up while she pulled and guided it onto land. “Whew, that was a doozy.”

They collapsed back onto the grass, dry and prickly beneath their backs. There was no cover here, and Elena couldn’t help a rush of both fear and fascination as she raised herself onto her elbows to gaze across the steppe. The great Pecheneg camps were out there, their tents numbering in the hundreds as the encampment rang with the shouts of children, the neighing of horses, and the clanging of armor. Life, strange and exotic! But she knew she should pray never to see it. That was the problem with having real adventures. Danger took all the fun out of it.

She sat up. “So, what’s the plan, again?”

Mitya sighed and heaved himself up to sit as well, squinting off in the direction she’d just been gazing, perhaps thinking of the camps too, but without any of her enthusiasm.

“I’m not sure I have one,” he said, turning a look on her that was so out of character, so honest and slightly hapless, that her heart did that stupid turning-over thing again. Honestly. She’d best get a grip on things, or she’d be as bad as Sissy Pringle, whose crush on that noodle-brain of a linebacker, Buddy Mason, was legendary. “We need to head—” he pointed off toward the aforesaid Pecheneg camps, “—that way.



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