A Dishonorable Knight(44)

"We'll have to backtrack and try to cross higher upstream," yelled Bryant.

"Damn!" Gareth bit out. They had made slow progress all day because Bryant's horse had thrown a shoe. Now with this delay, they would be at least a day late reaching Aberystwyth. He wheeled Isrid in a tight circle and led the way back up the muddy road.

***

The rain was no longer refreshing. It was cold. Elena was soaked through and she could scarcely see a few feet in front of her as she waded through the bog that was the road. She pushed her wet hair out of her face. She was suddenly as hot as she had been when the sun had been beating down on her. Gasping for breath, she stopped and raised her face to the downpour. The next minute she was freezing again, shivering in an effort to warm herself. Without realizing it, she resumed her wobbly way along the road, oblivious to everything but the steady drumming of rain on her head as she vacillated between being hot and cold in the downpour. Suddenly, the way ahead of her was no longer dark grey--it was pitch black and her knees buckled as she slid to the ground, unconscious.

***

Isrid reared suddenly, nearly throwing Gareth who was caught unaware. "What the hell?" he yelled and was about to jerk Isrid back down when he saw what had startled the animal. Huddled in the middle of the road, not a hoof's stride away was a crumpled form. Bryant and Cynan reined in and Bryant yelled, "What is it?"

Gareth dismounted and pointed. He approached the still figure, saw that it was a woman, and crouched down to determine if she was still alive. When he rolled her over and wiped the mud from her face, he felt as if someone had kicked him sharply in the stomach. "Blessed Christ!"

"Gareth?" Cynan yelled.

"It's Elena!" he called back as he scooped her up and carried her back towards Isrid.

"What? How could it be?"

"I'll be damned if I know. Here, hold her!" Cynan jumped off his horse and took Elena's bedraggled form as Gareth quickly mounted. Settling her as gently as he could in front of him, he brushed her tangled hair back from her face, the back of his hand grazing her cheek.

"She's burning up with fever! We've got to get her inside somewhere!"

"There's not so much as a hut for miles, Gareth, much less a town that might boast a healer," Cynan said.

"Yes there is. In Machynlleth."

"Machynlleth? Are you mad? In case you don't remember, we turned back from that ford because we couldn't cross it. Machynlleth is several miles on the other side. We'll never make it!"

"We'll have to make it," Gareth said implacably. Every moment they argued his stomach clenched into tighter knots. Elena had not made a sound since he had found her.

Bryant was staring at Elena's huddled form. Turning to Cynan he said, "Our horses are strong. They can swim the ford. We'll tie lines onto each other so we won't get swept away."

"Not you too, Bryant! I thought at least you'd have some sense. The best we can do is find shelter in the trees and try to build a fire."

"There isn't a dry stick to be had in all of Wales, right now, I'll wager," Bryant argued.

Gareth had had enough. Urging Isrid up against Cynan's mount he grasped his friend's wrist. "She'll die if we don't get her dry and warm soon. We must try to cross the river." When Cynan started to shake his head, Gareth continued more urgently, "What if this was Enid, Cynan?"

Cynan glanced at Elena's pale face and then back to Gareth's eyes, wide with fright and filled with desperation. "Enid will have your head if you get me killed, Gareth. Let's go."

Gareth had never felt such relief before. Spurring Isrid vigorously, he headed for the flooded river. At least the accursed rain is slowing, he thought frantically as they approached the swollen banks of the Dovey. The river had risen several inches since they had left and it was traveling as fast as a horse could run.

Cynan shook his head but said nothing. Bryant pulled a length of rope from his pack and quickly secured it round his waist. He tossed it to Gareth who wrapped it around himself and Elena before finally handing it to Cynan. Bryant urged his apprehensive horse into the quickly running water. As Gareth followed, Elena awoke and grabbed at his drenched shirt. Gareth glanced down quickly and in the grey light of the storm, her eyes were dark, sparkling with fevered intensity.

"They're after you," she whispered hoarsely.

Gareth had no idea what she was talking about but knew that he needed every bit of concentration for guiding his horse across the river. "'Tis alright, my lady. We're safe now," he soothed. "Just go back to sleep and I'll wake you when we're home."