After the Fall(52)
Gigi continued to search, finding several corpses beneath planks or tangled up in ropes, and then she came upon someone with an ugly, bleeding gash on his head, making her think he wouldn’t last much longer.
She heard yelling, and turned to see a bare-chested Magnus start to wade into the angry surf. “No!” she screamed. “Magnus, don’t!”
Gigi ran after him, following him in up to her knees, trying to pull him back, but he wouldn’t be stopped this time, and Gigi saw why — Athaulf was swimming in, his head nearly submerged, and he was dragging Alaric’s limp body behind him. There was no sign of the third person she’d seen on the boat.
The riptide was fierce, nearly yanking her feet out from beneath her, and Gigi was helpless to do anything but save herself. She struggled back until the water was at her ankles, but when a big wave surged in, she turned and ran. Stumbling against something, she looked down and saw Magnus’s abandoned tunic and boots. Terrified by his daring, she took his clothes and hugged them to her chest, her cries carried away by the ocean’s roar.
Magnus drove forward through the surf, inch by inch, until he reached Athaulf. Grabbing hold of Alaric, he hauled both men back toward land.
Gigi dropped Magnus’s things and raced forward. By the time he reached her, Placidia and Verica were also in the water beside them, grasping for their men, dragging them onto the sand. Once ashore, Athaulf collapsed from exhaustion into Placidia’s arms, while Magnus and Verica pushed Alaric onto his stomach and pounded his back.
Anxious over their futile efforts, Gigi suddenly felt a presence, something bitter, vile. Looking up, she spotted Randegund again. The old woman wasn’t praying any more, just glaring down from the cliffs, rigid except for her wind-lashed hair, which lifted and flailed, snakelike.
Oh, Medusa has nothing on that bitch! Empowered, she turned back to Alaric. Okay, Gigi, she told herself, you took first aid as a Girl Scout — remember what they taught you.
“Turn him over,” she commanded Magnus and Verica. “I know what to do.”
Gigi balled up her fists and plunged her body weight against the king’s stomach, then heaved him over on his side. Water gushed out, but he wasn’t choking on it, so she did it again, this time getting some help from Magnus. Then she quickly tilted Alaric’s head back and looked at her husband. “You pinch his nose with one hand, clamp down his tongue with the other, and give him three deep breaths when I tell you.”
Arms rigid, thumbs linked, Gigi rose up on her knees beside Alaric and started pumping on his breastbone, one, two, three, four … “Now, Magnus, breathe!” she yelled. One, two, three, four … “Breathe!” One, two, three, four … “Breathe!”
Again, Gigi balled her fists, this time coming down on Alaric’s chest with all her force, furious with him for not responding. “Goddamnit, breathe!” she screamed in English, then resumed the CPR, her arms and shoulders leaden, burning with the effort. One, two, three —
“Gigi!” Verica grabbed her arm just as Alaric seized, lurched sideways, and spewed more water out of his body.
Stunned, Gigi stared at Alaric as he labored to suck in air, his eyes wide with the effort to survive. It had worked!
Numb, cold, and shaking, Gigi rose and stood in the midst of the carnage, only then realizing the magnitude of what she’d done in saving a king’s life.
She glanced at Magnus. Having risen with her, he looked amazed and proud.
Gigi threw her arms around his neck. “M — Magnus,” she said through chattering teeth.
He held her tightly. “Bravely borne, my love,” he whispered into her hair. “You shouldered the burden of a grievous day and kept it from being far worse. Sweet Victory has granted us all another dawn.”
“Victory,” she affirmed and nestled against him, “but not just mine. We did it together, Magnus.”
Chapter 14
The wind blew fierce, smelling of snow, as Gigi said goodbye to Placidia and started for home. After a day spent watching Athaulf’s children, she looked forward to getting back to the quiet of her own tent. The ever-patient princess was proving to be a great stepmother, and Athaulf’s little girls thoroughly enjoyed playing dress-up with her fabulous jewels and silks. As for the boys, Athaulf insisted they get civilized by taking advantage of Gigi’s musical talent. She had fought with them over this for days, finally reaching an uneasy truce — equal hours of music for swordplay — their precondition being that if they had to do her bidding, she had to do theirs. At first, the little demons ran rings around her, constantly whacking her backside with their wooden swords, but now she was finally getting the hang of it, and their butts were just as sore.