Page 66 of Enamored
“Take the horses.” I tossed the lines toward the guard, then bent and swooped Elinor up into my arms.
“I’m sorry, Maxim,” she stuttered through blue lips.
I didn’t waste the energy responding. Instead I lunged forward, pushing my body to obey my mind. I’d learned the technique from Father Johann at St Olaf’s, the process of narrowing the scope of concentration, centering on one aspect of the body so intensely that the muscles and nerves would work beyond their capability.
With every step, I focused on contracting and relaxing the muscles in my thighs and calves, sending the message along my nerves to work harder and faster.
I passed Halvard, moving in a direction that would have the least resistance from the current as well as the shallowest water that would still allow me to remain hidden.
Faster, I commanded my muscles. As one minute ticked away, I began to run. From the splashing behind me, I could tell Halvard was doing so too, the power of the horses likely giving him some momentum.
As another fifteen seconds passed into thirty, I cringed and waited for shouts from downriver as Canute’s soldiers spotted us. All the while, I pushed my body, knowing the human mind could oft do more than anyone believed possible.
“There!” Halvard’s call was filled with relief. “Just ahead.”
I needed no urging to swerve into the closest gaping cavern in a rising rock wall. I plunged in deeper, giving Halvard room to enter behind me with the horses.
I grabbed one of the reins and guided the horses farther back. We sloshed through the water, now only knee deep. With the slight incline of the ground, I guessed we had another twenty, maybe thirty feet, before we reached dry ground—at least I prayed we would find dry ground.
As we pushed onward, the passageway narrowed into the shape of a rhombus. But I didn’t let the odd angles slow my pace. The shallowness of Elinor’s breathing and the sluggishness of her pulse impelled me to keep going. She was faring poorly, more so with each passing second, and I had to find a place to warm her body temperature.
The light from the cave opening guided our winding steps, the way growing dimmer the farther we traversed. When I finally stumbled upon a dry ledge, I dropped to my knees, laid Elinor on the ground, and began to strip her wet garments from her.
My fingers were stiff from the cold and fumbled too slowly. Biting back a frustrated cry, I slipped my knife from its sheath, stuck it into her bodice, and wrenched upward, rending the material.
Halvard pressed past me with the horses, drawing them up out of the water.
“I need dry blankets for the princess,” I whispered. “Quickly.”
As Halvard rummaged in the blackness through the supply packs, I none too gently finished ripping the saturated clothing from her. Attired only in her shift, I wrapped her into a thick, dry blanket Halvard had dropped beside me. I wound her in another, and then another, making sure every inch of her frozen body was tightly bound. Then I rubbed over the blankets vigorously against her arms, back, legs, and feet. The friction was necessary to create thermal energy and subsequent heat.
I labored without ceasing, kneeling on the ledge beside her and trying to bring warmth back into her body. All the while, I prayed fervently, beseeching God for mercy, not for me but for her.
Finally, after at least half an hour had passed, she released a long, normal breath. “Maxim, warm yourself now.”
I kept rubbing, unable to stop. I was possessed with saving her, needed to make sure she survived.
Halvard had moved the horses farther back into the cavern, and I’d heard him tending to them as well as getting himself out of his wet clothes and into something dry.
“Maxim,” she said softly. “Please, you must take care of yourself.”
“I can’t lose you.” My cold, damp garments clung to me. I couldn’t feel my toes. My legs ached from the cold. But I didn’t care. The only thing that mattered was her. Only her.
She squirmed to loosen the cocoon of blankets that surrounded her, but I kept my hands moving, determined to cause friction and warmth. I’d lost her once in my life. And I couldn’t bear to lose her again.
Perhaps the most I could ever ask for was to be her close companion—watch over her, stand by her side, and be there to protect her. While I wanted more—a banquet of loving her for the rest of my life—I would gladly settle for any crumbs she might throw my way. Yes, I loved her enough that I would take even the smallest of crumbs.
“Maxim.” Her voice grew stronger.
I only increased my efforts.
She broke her arms free of the blankets, and in the next instant she was grasping my hands in hers, forcing me to halt. When I tried to pull away and resume, she intertwined her fingers through mine.
As she flattened her palms against mine, I could feel her push up from the ground, and the next instant she was kneeling next to me, her warm breath bathing my cheek. “I love you,” she whispered.
My internal monologue ceased. My bodily functions halted. My constantly whirring mind lost every coherent thought... except one...
She loved me. She’d said it. But what did it mean? It couldn’t mean that she cared about me the same way I did about her. That was too much to hope for.
