Page 32 of Kilted Seduction
Thora gulped in air and forced her mind to focus. The dream was vague, as they often were, but if she focused, she would know more than the images alone might tell her.
The river… someone in the river… drowning. They were drowning. No, they would be drowning soon, but it had not yet happened.
The pieces fell into place in her mind. Out beyond the castle walls, there was a village boy, a son of one of the castle guards, acting on a jibe from some of his friends. Very soon, he would slip and fall into the water, to be washed away. If nothing was done, he would drown, and they would not find his body until far too late.
The season of celebration would become one of mourning, at least for the guard and his close kinfolk.
She couldn’t let it happen.
Thora rose from the bed and grabbed her cloak, shoving her feet into her boots. She didn’t bother with any other clothing - the vision was too strong, and she knew that what was to happen would occur very soon. She couldn’t wait long enough to dress, or she might be too late.
Aedan was still lying on the floor, motionless and apparently asleep. Thora hesitated for a moment. Aedan was stronger than she was, and he’d be able to help her. But he didn’t believe in her visions. Besides, she had no idea what it would take to rouse him, and she couldn’t waste that time, and whatever precious seconds would be spent arguing.
With a final shake of her head, Thora grabbed the lantern the servants had left, lit it from the fire, then grabbed a blanket and hurried to the door, racing as fast as she dared for the riverbank. Every fiber of her being whispered of impending danger, of a life hung in the balance and a fate in flux, like a coin spinning on its edge until it finally toppled to show the upturned face.
She was so focused she nearly stepped into the river herself before she stopped, managing to halt just in time. Her brow furrowed, her heart beating fast in panic and a growing sense of desperation as she searched for the child.
If she could only catch him before he reached the river and fell in…
A faint splash, and a loud cry, came from further upstream. Thora whirled and raced for the noise, praying she’d not be too late.
Aedan was trying to find a comfortable position to sleep when he heard Thora sit bolt upright in bed, gasping as if she’d had a nightmare. For a moment, he was tempted to sit up and offer hersome comfort. But he had no idea what to say, and in any case, if Thora was at all like himself, she wouldn’t want company after a nightmare.
He’d never liked being seen as vulnerable, and Thora seemed as carefully guarded as he was. With a sigh that might have been mistaken for a soft snore, Aedan settled back into his blankets, determined to ignore Thora’s restlessness.
The determination lasted until he heard her rise and tug on her boots, followed by the whisper of her cloak, and a sudden flare of light as she lit the lantern. A guarded glance from half-closed eyes showed him she’d dressed in a hurry and was clearly preparing to leave the room. He saw her glance toward him for a moment and feigned sleep, then watched in disbelief as she turned and hurried from the room.
He’d had nightmares as a lad, but nothing that would send him running about the halls of an unfamiliar castle in the dark, let alone when surrounded by people he didn’t trust. Aedan cursed under his breath and rolled out of the blankets to grab his own boots and cloak to follow her.
If this is all for some snack from the kitchens, I may well throttle the lass…
Thora didn’t even seem to hear his footsteps behind her, focused as she was on her midnight errand. Aedan felt his concern increase, then increase again when Thora made her way toward one of the doors leading outside.
She seemed to have some goal in mind, some purpose which made her almost careless of her surroundings, but for the life of him, he couldn’t guess what it was. Baffled, he followed her out, through a postern gate in the wall, and toward the river, a black, gleaming ribbon of chill ebony just visible against the snow-covered ground.
Thora didn’t hear his footsteps behind her then either. In fact, she seemed not to notice anything until she’d nearly stumbled into the river. Only then did she stop, turning this way and that. The lamplight, gleaming on the edges of her face, showed a clear expression of distress, her eyes wide and staring as if she expected a disaster to fall on them at any moment.
Aedan was about to step forward and demand an explanation when he heard it. The dull splash of something falling in the river, and the cry of a frightened child.
Thora whipped around and hurried in the direction of the sound. Aedan followed her, cursing in his head.
Seconds later, Thora stumbled to a halt and set the lantern on a rock on the shore. “Hold on!” Her voice was high with anxiety.
And no wonder. In the light of the lamp, Aedan could just see what had caught her attention - a small lad of perhaps eight or ten winters old, caught in the river’s current and struggling weakly to escape. Even as Aedan spotted him, the boy slipped off the rock he’d been trying to perch against and went under with a cry. The cry was cut off with a choking gurgle, hands flailing wildly as the boy disappeared briefly beneath the surface.
Thora rushed to the edge of the river, and Aedan saw her boots sinking into the icy mud, the sludge dragging her down and slowing her steps, even as she strove with all her might to reach the bairn.
She’d never make it in time. She didn’t have the strength required to battle through the mud and the water. In moments, the boy would slip past her, and the river was too cold and too fast for her to catch him.
Aedan raced to her side, pulling off his cloak as he went. “Dinnae move. I’ll get him.”
A swift motion to kick off his boots, and Aedan plunged into the icy, ink-hued water. Cold drove his breath from him in a grunt of shock and almost-pain, but he forced himself forward, focused on the point in the river where the boy would surely be carried past in a moment or two.
The child struggled to the surface for a moment, choking and flailing, just long enough for Aedan to see where he was, before he was dragged under again. Aedan took a deep breath, as deep as he could manage when the cold seized his muscles like iron and dragged him down, then dove after the child.
He got one hand on a sleeve, the other on a bundle of fabric he thought was a cloak, and heaved upward and back, dragging the boy toward the surface and himself. Both of them tumbled for a brief moment, tangled in the cloth, then Aedan managed to get his feet planted in the muck of the river bottom, and his armaround a skinny little waist, and shove them both more or less upright.
The child spluttered in the air, coughing weakly. His hands scrabbled at Aedan’s shirt. Aedan took a moment to regain his balance, then caught the lad’s flailing arm. “Put yer arms around me neck, rest again’ me back, and hold on lad.”
