Aleksey's Kingdom (A Royal Affair #2)(51)

“I did not—anyway, what I mean is, I think it is this river… this place… that is making me ill. If I cross the river… prove myself against it, I will be better.”

“Oh, tosh. Of all the stupid things you have ever said, and trust me I have to listen to the utmost rubbish all day long, that is the most ridiculous. Your fear of this river will make you stumble more like, and then you will be—swoosh—washed away over—”

“Don’t say it! Don’t say that, for God’s sake, Aleksey!”

“Well, there you go. You have made my point for me. Thank you. Let go the rope, Nikolai.”

There was nothing else for it.

I beckoned him back farther into the darkness of the tree line. Perhaps he did think I wanted him to try his miracle cure upon me. He was sadly mistaken. I put my elbow to his forehead and laid him out as effectively as I had once done in his own castle when he was an arrogant prince I desired and not the heart that beat within my chest as he was now. I had never had to do anything as hard as hitting Aleksey that day. I did not know if he would ever forgive me. But I would never forgive myself if I had let him cross the river first, and I would not live if he had been washed away over the….

So, the rope was tied around my waist. We did not have a great deal of time, for Aleksey would not stay unconscious for long. Once I was on my way, it would not matter.

The plan was for us to move some way upstream. I would wade into the water and let its power wash me out and down to the rocks, where I would move along them, having the current of the water pressing me to them but not washing me away—and with the security of the rope around me, I could use the current rather than have it hinder me. We had all seen this method of river crossing before, but not, of course, in such a vast body of water with such a current. Needs must, however, as they say.

I will not bore you further with descriptions of how I felt taking that first step into the icy current. Suffice to say that I had made my peace with Aleksey’s God and with the Great Spirit and had promised if they only drowned me first before letting me go over the… I would be obedient to their will, or some such nonsense. I think I was actually just saying fuck, fuck, fuck over and over in my head without stopping.

The current immediately whipped my feet from under me, and I was down in the freezing water on my back. I grabbed the line and felt it go taut. At least I could trust the men holding me. That was something. I was floating very soon, being played out on the rope, and all I had to do was wait until I felt the chain of rocks beneath me. By the time I hit them, I was almost midcurrent, halfway across, and the far shore didn’t seem so far at all, so close, so easy to reach….

But then I realized I was pinned to the rocks by the force of the water and entirely unable to breathe.

I could not help but think of a man I had once seen pressed to death. He had refused to plead either guilty or not guilty to the crime he had been accused of, and so to make him plead, for he could not be tried until he did, they laid him on his back in the town square and placed a board upon him and then piled heavy stones upon the board. For three days he suffered under those stones until his tongue came from his mouth and his eyes were as globes almost out of his head, but still he would not plead. In the end he could not breathe and died.

I would die if I could not move and relieve the pressure upon my chest. I put out my hand and found purchase in the rock and pulled myself sideward. I fell into a gap between the rocks, held now only by the rope around my waist, but I could breathe again. I did not want to think about the men holding the other end of this tiny lifeline. They had tied it to a tree as well, but trees could be uprooted.

I put my arm out again, found another crevice, wedged my fingers in and pulled myself sideward once more like a huge, sodden crab moving along inch by inch. Once more I could not breathe. As I could not hear or see either, for the sound of the water and the cold and the rush of the torrent past me, it seemed fitting to have no breath. Once more the movement sideward. Not enough: I was still against this large rock. More movement, a scrabble. Still not enough. I was losing my senses now, a swimming in my head of lightness and a sense of moving beyond all things, when with a tiny movement more the water saved me, for it pushed me past the rock, and so I was dangling again, held by the waist by rope. I took a huge breath of air, pulled myself to the next rock, and realized my feet were on solid ground. I could make no physical use of this, as the current was too strong, but it shored me up mentally to know I had nearly reached my goal. A few pulls more, and I was out to my waist, and then with a fling to the side I was lying on the gritty beach of Morning Island.

I lay for so long that I felt anxious tugs upon the rope.

I turned my head and saw Aleksey on the other end.

We regarded each other across the torrent.

Perhaps he had watched it all.

Perhaps he realized now that he could not have done it. I hoped he did.

But I had done it.

I sat up suddenly and realized what I had achieved.

I had crossed this fucking river with nothing more than a rope around me, a few feet from a thousand-foot drop or more (you be that close to such a fall and see if you do not exaggerate its height in your mind). For the first time since we had arrived at that place, I felt myself once more. I rose to my feet, and it was only then I realized I had lost my boots in the crossing. They had been stripped off me by the current, and I had not even noticed. I stared down at my bare feet in wonder. My boots were now…. Could I look? I did. I braved it and looked toward the fall. Fortunately, I could not see it for the ever-present cloud that it exhaled. I wondered where my boots would end up.