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Back Heir to Sevenwaters Save as PDF
Chapters (22)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Page
  3. Dedication
  4. Acknowledgements
  5. CHAPTER 1
  6. CHAPTER 2
  7. CHAPTER 3
  8. CHAPTER 4
  9. CHAPTER 5
  10. CHAPTER 6
  11. CHAPTER 7
  12. CHAPTER 8
  13. CHAPTER 9
  14. CHAPTER 10
  15. CHAPTER 11
  16. CHAPTER 12
  17. CHAPTER 13
  18. CHAPTER 14
  19. CHAPTER 15
  20. CHAPTER 16
  21. CHAPTER 17
  22. ABOUT THE AUTHOR

I couldn’t balance; it was impossible to stay upright. I tried to keep my body between Cathal and the shore while he did something complicated with the coil of rope, whistling through his teeth as he worked. I waited for Aidan to set the dogs on us; while we were moored here, they could reach us easily. I waited for him to come down and try to cut the rope. I waited for the three men to launch a concerted attack on Cathal—even a warrior of his talents could surely not prevail in such an uneven contest. But all Aidan did was put the arrow back in his quiver. As the shorter rope was fastened to the longer by means of an elaborately carved bone hook and Cathal began to pull us out onto the river hand over hand, his childhood friend stood utterly still, eyes dark in an ashen face, and simply watched us go.

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 9

The river was swift. Its flow caught the raft a short distance out from the bank, sweeping us under the long rope and pulling the short tether so taut I was sure it would snap. Cathal was breathing hard; the muscles in his arms were bunched as he struggled to move us across the current. I crouched beside him, sheltering Becan. It was raining upstream and downstream, but not here. The downpour stopped a little short of our rope on either side, as if whoever had chosen to play with us had decided rain might be one challenge too many right now. Nonetheless, my cloak was sodden and Becan’s sling was damp; he must be cold. I held him close, making myself keep my eyes open, though every instinct told me to curl up and shut out reality until this passage was over. There was nothing to hold onto. Each time the raft dipped one way or the other, freezing river water washed across its surface, drenching my skirt anew. My stomach was tight with fear. My back ached with the effort of keeping my balance.

Cathal’s hand slipped on the rope. Cursing, he snatched and held. His narrow face wore an expression of fierce concentration. I dared not utter a word. What had I been thinking of, to let him risk his own safety coming with me? If he fell off, not only would he likely drown, but I would be stuck out in the middle of the river, lacking the strength to pull the raft to one side or the other. I should never, ever have allowed this to happen.