Page 26 of Warrior Queen
The wooden guard rails either hung askew or had vanished altogether. Perhaps taken for firewood by the locals. Who knew? And the boards on the actual roadway appeared to have sizeable gaps in them. The sole consolation here was that the bridges only stretched over the river’s normal channels. Not that you could easily tell where they were, other than by looking at the position of the bridges.
I glared at Merlin. “Is anyone who lives here brave enough– or stupid enough?– to use these bridges?”
He had the grace to look a little guilty, as well he might. “Last time I was here, they weren’t in such a bad state.” He shaded his eyes, squinting into the distance. “I think they’re crossable, if we take it carefully.”
He had to be kidding. “With warhorses weighing half a ton?Lotsof warhorses, to be exact. Really?”
He flashed me a look of annoyance. “Do you want to go back and take the ferry, then?”
For a minute we sat in silence, our horses content to wait for our decision. Maybe they, too, didn’t fancy a dunking.
“How far upriver to the next bridge?” I asked, eventually. “Or a ford. Is there a ford anywhere?”
He shrugged. “Not one we can use while the river’s in spate like this. With all this rain, any ford will be dangerous, if not suicidal.”
“And this isn’t?”
Another shrug. “Your decision.”
Irritation coursed through me. Yes, I’d said I’d lead the men, and yes, my decision should be final. But this was something I didn’t know enough about. And my fear of water had resurfaced with a vengeance. He didn’t need to know that, however.
From behind us came the murmur of voices as the men chatted together, unperturbed by what lay ahead. I was the Luck of Arthur, and they had a touching faith in me I didn’t want to lose, even though I didn’t share it myself.
However, we didn’t have time to find another crossing place, even if one existed. The people of Ebrauc were depending on me finding Arthur and sending him to their aid. And if he’d come this way, then so could we.
I gathered Alezan’s reins. “If you think we can do it, then that’s what we’ll do,” I said, setting my jaw in determination even though my heart had started pounding in overtime. “Walk on.” I squeezed my horse’s flanks and she set off down the slope to where the floodwaters began. Luckily, she didn’t suffer from the same phobia as I did, and stepped out boldly into the water, kicking it up behind her.
A moment later, Merlin brought his own horse in by my side, a grin on his face. “Nothing ventured,” he said, and winked at me.
My annoyance burgeoned a little more. How could he be so offhand? This wasn’t a game. The first bridge looked anything but safe, and if any of it gave way beneath our not inconsiderable weight, someone was likely to drown. What would Arthur have done? Had he really come this way himself?
I twisted in my saddle to face the men behind me–mymen. “The bridge isn’t complete. We need to keep to the sides if we can, and leave a good gap between each rider. Just in case.” I took a deep breath. “I’ll be leading the way.”
A ragged cheer went up. No doubt they believed the bridge would be safe for me, and that if they followed in my footsteps, they’d all be fine, too. Fingers crossed. I could only hope they were right.
Alezan splashed along the causeway, the water rising to knee deep, the fields to either side a vast lake. Ahead, a fast brown current tumbled through the bridge’s stone supports. At leasttheyappeared sturdy and unlikely to collapse. Most likely there were floods like this every year. I’d certainly seen the area around Gloucester flooded in my old world.
The causeway rose to meet the first bridge’s eastern abutment, and Alezan’s hooves no longer splashed in the floodwater. The start of the bridge was stone cobbles, the gravel topping presumably washed away, with robust stone parapets to either side that hid the view of the drop into the turbulent maelstrom. But all too soon the stone underfoot gave way to wooden planking.
On the far side, the hazardous woodwork became stone again, the distance at once short, and yet at the same time incredibly long. With the biggest gaps down the center, we’d have to walk at the side of the bridge and try to keep our horses’ weight over the hopefully sturdy supporting timbers. But with no railings, and only a narrow width of planking to walk on, the way was precarious and foolhardy.
I drew in a deep breath. If Arthur had brought his men this way, then so could I.
Heart pounding ever more frantically, I turned my face away from the drop, which, although the water level had risen considerably from what must be the norm, seemed huge. Unfazed by the danger, Alezan stepped out across the untrustworthy timbers, her neat hooves picking their way so close to the left edge I wanted to slide off her and lie flat on the ground, hanging on for dear life and never moving again. Only it wasn’t ground, but timbers that might be rotten with age. So not such a good idea.
I dared a peek over my shoulder to find the men had taken my advice and spread out, following with no sign of fear. Such was their touching faith in me, charlatan that I felt. Merlin, a full horse’s length behind, gave me an encouraging grin I had to force myself to return, my jaw wobbling.
As Alezan’s hooves hit the stone-built descent from the bridge, I realized I’d been holding my breath for far too long. I gulped in air as she splashed down into more floodwaters and headed for the second bridge. Behind me, the noise of many hooves doing the same, and no panicked screams, told me my men had negotiated the first bridge unscathed.
The water deepened, running muddy and opaque, with a strong current dragging along bits of greenery and small branches. But horses are heavy creatures, anchored by a leg at each corner, and now we bunched up together, riding three abreast, supporting one another against the pull of the water.
“Just one more bridge to go,” Merlin said. “Then we’ll be home and dry.”
Had he guessed my terror? I probably wasn’t hiding it all that well.
I kept my eyes fixed on the second bridge, as that was the only thing keeping us to the line of the causeway. My stomach twisted with a new fear. If I wasn’t careful, Alezan might miss her footing and slip off the road’s raised agger into deeper water. If anyone did that, they’d be washed away and lost.
My poor heart still hammering so hard a heart attack seemed imminent, and my breath coming in short pants, we reached where the road rose out of the water toward the stone-built abutments of the second bridge. A sigh of relief sneaked out– until I saw the state of this bridge.
