Page 26 of The Guardian's Witch

“To Richard!” Alex gave a similar salute.

Bryce drank the ale thirstily. The foam left a smear of caramel liquid on his upper lip. He wiped it away with the back of his hand. The ale finished to the last drop, he plunked the tankard onto the table. “I’ve always enjoyed Wesley’s ales. I’ve never tasted a bad batch. This isn’t quite the same.” Bryce took the tankard out of Alex’s hand and began to drink. He gave Alex a questioning look. “I may need a third to make a final decision.”

Alex stood, empty-handed and sported a wide grin. “Hold up. You’ll drain me dry.”

“I didn’t think Wesley’s ale could get any better but you’ve proved me wrong.” He took another gulp. “You may have a new business—supplying ale to the court.”

“It is good, isn’t it? I have been working with my brewer on the recipe. Well, if you’re ready?”

Bryce hesitated for a moment. He looked at the tankard and quickly drained it. “Yes, I’m ready. We can stop by your barracks and gather some of your men.”

Alex and Bryce went directly to the barracks. “Lord Alex.” The bower rose from his bench when the men walked in. His shirt was covered with down from the gray goose feathers he used to make the fletching.

“Where are Robby and the men?” asked Alex.

“They haven’t returned from patrol, m’lord.”

“Tell Robby to bring the men and meet me at the river.”

“Aye, m’lord.”

Alex nodded his gratitude and left with Bryce for the stables.

They rode from the castle down toward the river where Bryce’s men waited.

“We found two sets of tracks. Some are by the river and others leading toward the bridge. We’ll split up. My men are up ahead. I’ll take them to the bridge. You can follow the tracks by the river,” Bryce said as they slowed their horses, his troop coming into view.

“You and your men can cover more ground. You take the river. I’ll investigate the bridge and wait for Robby and the others,” said Alex.

“We can meet up later,” said Bryce. At the forest edge, Bryce and his men continued on while Alex rushed toward the cliff.

* * *

The berries Lisbeth had gathered tumbled forgotten from her hands. A tremor touched her lips while the vision slammed behind her eyes. She didn’t doubt the vision’s truth. Sometimes a bright light, warm and comforting, accompanied the vision; other times the wind howled, cold and disturbing. Today, panic clearly filled the air.

She spun around trying to pinpoint a direction and abruptly stopped. Facing south, she licked her lips nervously and tasted the sweetness of fresh water. A rushing sound burst in her ears. The river. Her head snapped east toward the river path and she ran. As she careened down the narrow trail, the outstretched branches tugged at her dress, pulled off her shawl and clawed at her face and arms. She took no notice. The cadence of her footfalls beat out a mantra,not him,not him,not him. She rushed on faster, mumbling enchanted words under her breath.

She exploded out of the forest and stood on the riverbank as the bridge gave way, sending the horse and rider plunging into the angry current. Swiftly the horse surfaced and headed for shore with an empty saddle. She stood on the bank, still mumbling as she scanned the river until she glimpsed a clear red aura shining deep in its middle. Her relief was momentary when the blackness began to creep in. There wasn’t much time.

Quickly she pulled off her heavy dress and, wearing only her chemise, dove into the river.Save himwas her only thought. Down she plunged kicking hard against the current. The usually clear water, now choked with mud, churned with debris. She screamed the words in her head and made her demands. In response, the current slowed and as the mud began to settle, a lifeless hand beckoned to her from below.

Desperate to reach him, she kicked hard toward the deep river bottom. She was a strong swimmer and reached him quickly. She pulled on his arm but he didn’t budge. Something pinned him in place. She dropped his hand and pulled herself around him. The murky water made it difficult for her to see what held him. She resorted to running her hand over every inch of his body to locate what kept him captive. Her lungs burned. She needed to surface but she pressed on.

Frantically her hands felt their way along his leg until she found his foot caught in the debris. She shoved the timber away. The exertion cost her precious time and air. With one hand she grabbed his shirt collar and kicked off the bottom. With her free arm she reached for the surface. She didn’t take her eyes off him.

The higher she got, the more the water cleared. The wild current fought to get free of her restraint. She didn’t think. She focused on getting Alex out of the water.

The hand holding Alex’s collar cramped, sending spasms of pain up her arm. She did not let go. The last of her breath spent, her lungs screamed for fresh air. She forced herself not to breathe. She was certain she would break free of the water soon. Alex’s weight pulled at her. She wasn’t making any progress. If she didn’t do something quickly they would be back on the bottom. She glanced up. The light was brighter. She was close now. She held her legs together and undulated like a graceful giant fish. Once again her free arm reached hard and pulled the water out of her way. One last hard kick and she exploded into the air as if propelled from underneath. Alex floated face down next to her.

She gulped for air, exhausted. There was no time to waste. She held on to him as the current pulled them toward the rapids and the steep falls beyond. She turned him onto his back and swam for shore. She dragged the large knight onto the bank where his warhorse stood snorting and stomping. Worn out but thankful, she collapsed next to Alex gasping for air. Her hand was on his chest.

He didn’t stir. She fixed her eyes on his chest but she didn’t see any movement. She scanned his face. A small trickle of water escaped his mouth.

She rolled him on his side and pounded on his back. Nothing. She pounded again. More water trickled out of his mouth. She reached inside his wet shirt. No heartbeat.

She kept the building panic at bay.Think. Calmness overcame her. She rolled him onto his back and knelt above him. She placed her mouth over his and gave him her breath. She’d given her breath before, when the blacksmith’s wife gave birth and the baby didn’t breathe. That day she had tried everything but nothing worked. She wanted to move the baby’s chest, just one breath. In desperation she breathed for the child. It worked then. It had to work now.

She felt the tingle at her lips and a dizzying current raced through her. She closed her eyes and gave him another breath. Her hand pressed hard against this chest. She searched for a heartbeat, the rise and fall of his chest, anything to indicate he lived.

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