Chapter 9 #2
searching frantically until she found a rock heavy enough to anchor
the rope.
“Thank you, Father,” she said as she tied the
rope to the rock, recalling his stories of how he would climb trees
in his youth by tossing a rock tied to a rope over a high branch,
her mother’s faint blushes every time he told the story. Planting
her feet as firmly as possible in the mud, she started swinging the
rock in a circle.
“Thank you, Brother,” she said as the rock
gained speed and momentum, for the many games they’d thrown rocks,
ropes, and sticks as children, honing her arm and her aim.
She swung the rock out and let the rope slide
through her palms, but it fell short of Aleksandr and was instantly
carried downstream by the river’s current. She hauled the rope
back, sodden and heavy with rain and river water, blew out her
breath, squared her shoulders, and began to swing it around and
around until she could hold it no longer and let it fly. The rock
splashed into the river right in front of Aleksandr, but the rock
sunk before he could reach the rope. Her arms were tiring, but she
gritted her teeth and hauled the sodden rope back onto the shore as
Munir’s head sagged on Aleksandr’s shoulder.
“No. Nononono.” Her heart was pounding in her
ears and her belly was in her throat. “Not again.”
“Sahar.” She focused on Aleksandr’s face.
“You can do this,” he yelled over the raging river. “You can do
this.”
Munir came to from the yelling, and she took
a deep breath in and blew it out. Then another. She swung the rock
until it started to pull away from her with its own force, and then
she hurled it with all her might, skipping forward on her tiptoes
as the rock hurtled out over the water and the rope uncoiled,
taking chunks of her skin with it. She focused on what she was
watching. The rock landed and Aleksandr reached out and grabbed it
as the current took it right to him.
“Thank you, Mother,” she said, “for teaching
me never to give up. You as well, Aleksandr,” she whispered as he
wrapped the rope around his chest and Munir’s back, “for having
faith in me, for giving me faith in myself.”
She held her end of the rope, fighting to
keep it out of the water and as taut as they needed it while
Aleksandr labored to remove the rock from its knot and tie the rope
at his belly. It was slow going, and he slipped and stumbled
several times, causing her to bite her lower lip to keep from
crying out and distracting him. He managed to keep his footing and
after what seemed like a long time, he signaled, and she quickly
tied her end of the rope to Lasair’s saddle.
“Ready?” she yelled.
“Ready,” Aleksandr called.
She started to walk the mare backward and
Aleksandr pushed off the rocks. He and Munir both disappeared under
the rushing water and Sahar sucked in her breath as she kept Lasair
moving. The rope remained taut, and Sahar counted to seven before
Aleksandr’s and Munir’s heads finally popped up, coughing and
spitting. They went under and popped up two more times before they
reached the river’s bank, which was as steep and high as a man was
tall. Lasair had run out of room to maneuver, her rump pressing
against a hedge of bushes.
“Stay, Lasair,” Sahar commanded. “Stay.”
She clopped through the sucking mud as fast
as she could and wrapped the slackening rope around both of her
wrists and braced her feet.
“On three,” she said to Aleksandr. “I’ll pull
and you’ll climb.”
“On,” Aleksandr coughed and gasped,
“three.”
She looked to Munir, who nodded feebly and
unwound his legs from around Aleksandr’s waist.
“One.” She dug her boots in. “Two.” She bent
her knees and took a deep breath. “Three.” She blew out her breath
and tugged with all her might, leaning back against the weight of
the men as they climbed the muddy bank until she fell flat on her
back. She started to slide toward the bank, and dug her feet in
even deeper. The rope was cutting into her wrists, but she didn’t
let go, even when it felt as if her shoulders would be pulled from
their sockets.
Then the rope went slack.
She lifted her head. Aleksandr and Munir were
lying in the mud at her feet.
She burst into tears.
Thankfully, her tears blended into the rain
running down her cheeks as she rolled onto her hands and knees and
crawled over to them. They were both gasping and sucking in air,
but they were alive. She helped Aleksandr untie the rope from
around them, and tossed it aside before he grabbed her and pulled
her down onto his chest. Holding her face in his big hands, he
kissed her hard, stealing her breath and warming her blood.
“Thank you, my tigress,” he rumbled. Then he
let go his hold of her and rolled over onto his hands and knees,
hanging his head low as water flowed freely from his nostrils.
Her head was still reeling from Aleksandr’s
kiss, as she scooted over to Munir, who lay groaning on his back.
His eyes flew open as he started coughing up water. She rolled him
onto his side, and then helped him to his hands and knees, where he
retched up river water and what was left of his morning meal.
“Kedar,” he said when he finally stopped
retching. “I must find Kedar.”
Aleksandr pushed himself back onto his heels.
“You rest,” he said. “I’ll find him.”
“Neither of you are in any condition to do
anything but sit and regain your strength,” she said. “I’ll
go.”
Another coughing spasm overtook Munir.
Aleksandr stood on legs that swayed and shook
like river reeds. “You stay here with Munir,” he said. “I’ll
go.”
“You can barely stand,” she pointed out, then
narrowed her eyes. “You cannot tell me what to do.”
“Nor you me.”
Sahar glanced at Munir, still on his hands
and knees, barely able to lift his head. “One of us should stay
with Munir.”
“I agree,” Aleksandr said. “That one of us
should be you.”
“Why?” She rose and stood nose to chin with
him. “Because I’m a woman?”
“Because, you impossible woman, I don’t want
anything else to happen to you.”
A flash of pleasure rushed through her veins
until she remembered her father was paying Aleksandr to protect
her. “Worried about collecting your one hundred gold pieces?” She
picked up the rope and coiled it around her shoulder.
“Princess,” Aleksandr warned. “I told you I
would go.”
“Then go, or stay,” she said as she hung the
rope over her saddle horn. “Or go to your cursed forefathers in the
underworld, it makes no difference to me.”
“Go, both of you,” Munir insisted as he
slowly pushed himself back onto his heels, his cheeks pinking up
and his lips no longer blue. “Go find Kedar. I’ll be fine.”
Sahar didn’t speak a word to Aleksi as they
searched for Kedar, which was fine. He was in no mood for small
talk. His chest still constricted every time he thought of what
could have befallen her crossing that cursed river. The fact that
only Munir, and likely Kedar, had been seriously injured was a
stroke of blind, stupid luck, and Aleksi was as angry at himself
for provoking her into it as he was for taking the bait and
jumping.
“Asinine, imprudent, ill-considered…”
“Are you grumbling about yourself?” she
asked, her voice as stiff as her spine. “Or me?”
“Take a guess.”
They glared at each other a long moment
before she laughed, short and harsh. “Then you should probably add
headstrong, rash, and impetuous,” she said, not sounding or looking
the least bit contrite.
What Aleksi should’ve done was yank her off
her horse, bend her over his knee, and beat her comely backside
until she came to her senses. What he wanted to do was slide her
off Lasair down the length of him, sit her on his lap, and kiss her
senseless, which was what he was quickly becoming.
“There,” she cried, pointing ahead to a bend
in the river where a large brown mass lay along the shoreline,
which sent Lasair into a heedless trot.
“Sahar, wait,” Aleksi yelled. Though the rain
had dwindled to a mist, the ground was still slick and fetlock deep
in mud.
She didn’t slow down.
Gritting his jaw, Aleksi went after them,
trusting Zolotoy’s strength and sure-footedness as the mud sucked
at his hooves, pulling them in deeper than the lighter mare and her
mistress. After slipping and almost going down twice, they finally
made it to where Sahar stood staring down at Kedar’s lifeless body,
his head twisted at an unnatural angle. A deep gash went from the
side of the gelding’s throat to his ear.
“He died quickly,” Aleksi said, dismounting
and standing beside Sahar, offering what small comfort he could.
“That head wound was a death blow. He didn’t feel a thing.”
She nodded wordlessly and swiped at the tears
falling from her cheeks, and then she dropped to her knees and
kissed the gelding’s forehead. “I’m so sorry, Kedar,” she sobbed.
“Forgive me, please. I never meant for any of this…”
Aleksi knelt beside her and laid a hand on
her shaking shoulder and put the other on Kedar’s. “We honor you,
Kedar,” he said. “A mighty steed who gave your life in service to
your master. May the bog loshadi welcome and revere
you.”
“Bog loshadi?”
“The horse gods of my land.”
Sahar sniffed. “May you be a king among the
bog loshadi, brave Kedar.”
She looked to Aleksi, her eyes glistening
pools of grief, and he coughed, stood, and offered her his hand. He
closed his fingers over hers and lifted their clasped hands as she
rose with the ease and grace of the tigress she was.
“Aleksi,” she said. “I…”
“I know,” he said quickly. It was the first
time she had called him Aleksi, and it warmed his sodden heart. He
squeezed her hand before letting it go. “I know.” He blew out his
breath and jutted his jaw at a bramble of branches washed up on
shore. “Bring what you can to cover him,” he said. “I’ll collect
his saddle and gear. We need to get back to Munir.”
“And to the race.”
“You intend to continue the race then.” It
was more statement than question. Aleksi knew her well enough to
know she wouldn’t quit.
“Of course. Why wouldn’t I? Are you
suggesting I should quit?” she demanded, and didn’t wait for an
answer. “Now? When so many have sacrificed so much?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“No, you said I was a soft, spoilt
princess.”