Finding Peace - A Medieval Romance (The Sword of Glastonbury Series Book 2) by Lisa Shea

Author:Lisa Shea [Shea, Lisa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Minerva Webworks LLC
Published: 2013-12-03T13:00:00+00:00

Chapter 17

Elizabeth pulled her hood closer against the rain, weariness dragging at her very bones. It was only five days into their journey and already it felt as if her joints were permanently soaked. The days grew colder with each passing step, the inns’ fires barely heating her up again before it was time for another trip out into the deluge.

She would almost be ready to deal with Corwin’s acrid tongue and hostile commentary in exchange for a day or two of merely-gloomy weather. She would not even hope for sun – that might be asking too much. Just a cessation of the watery onslaught was all she hoped for.

There was a rushing noise ahead, and her heart sank. As if the day could not get any more drenched. Ahead of them the road moved toward a ford which, in drier times, was probably quite easy to pass. In the current state of affairs it was a raging river, the water tumbling and cascading, the far bank barely visible in the late evening gloom.

She pulled to a halt at the near edge, looking out over the churning water. At her sides the two men also reined in, their hoods sweeping left and right down the length. The marshy fields around them undulated, easing into dense forest fairly quickly on either side. There was no sign of a bridge or another path.

Richard glanced behind him, back the way they had come. “I believe there was a turn-off to the north about two miles ago,” he commented.

Corwin scoffed, his eyes bright with disbelief. “For this tiny trickle? I think your time with the duo dunces has softened your head. There’s no reason to retreat from this.”

Elizabeth shook her head. “I am not chancing that torrent,” she stated firmly. “Even if the steed could swim across -”

“Even if,” mimicked Corwin, his voice harsh. “What are you, twelve years old?”

Steel shot up Elizabeth’s spine. “I am willing to face odds that are reasonable,” she snapped. “This is simply ridiculous. I will not -”

His sword was out in a flash, it glittered in a sweeping arc, and the flat of the blade landed hard against her steed’s rump with an echoing SLAM.

Her horse reared up in a wild panic, she flung herself forward to keep her seat, and in an instant the steed was lunging full bore into the raging river.

“Richard!” she screamed, pressing herself hard against her horse’s neck, squeezing her thighs against his flank, willing herself to stay atop the powerful beast. His chest heaved as he pushed hard through the current and was instantly swept downstream. His breath came out in long whoofs as he struggled to keep his head above the churning water.

“Hang in there,” she urged him, sweeping her head around in the chaos. The water roiled, the fog rolled, and steadily but surely the horse inched toward the other bank, trees and rocks racing by as they moved.

BUMP. A medium-sized branch bounced off her right leg, sliding past her horse’s rump and swirling away into the gloomy mist.

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