Page 114 of Desire's Ransom
“Nay!” she cried as he staggered forward into waist-high water.
Flann didn’t hesitate. He loved to swim. He bounded into the river and began paddling toward Cormac.
Then Temair remembered. Cormac hated the water. He didn’t know how to swim.
Even as she had that thought, she reached the riverbank and saw him go under. And despite how much she loathed him, despite how many times he had wronged her, despite how often she’d wished he were dead, she couldn’t let him drown.
Near to where Flann was swimming, Cormac popped up once, flailing at the water with one hand while his other gripped the chest.
“Let it go!” she yelled. “’Tisn’t worth it!”
But he wouldn’t. He clung stubbornly to the chest, and he went under again.
Now she knew how Ryland had felt, watching her with Lady Mor’s stockings. Temair, however, would have dropped them in an instant if she were drowning.
Tearing off her armor and kicking off herbrogs, she dove in. The current was strong, but so was she.
She swam up just as Cormac surfaced again with a gasp. Flann barked, and she reached out for Cormac’s arm. “Let it go!”
But he tore out of her grasp, as if he feared she would steal the chest from him.
He sank with an ominous gurgle. She dove down, tugging at his arm, trying to pry the chest from his hands, struggling to haul him back up again. But his grip was determined, and the weight of the chest proved too great. Temair had no choice but to let go, and he was dragged to the bottom of the river.
Hours later, they retrieved the chieftain’s body. He was still clinging to the chest with a death grip. Theclannagreed it was proof that Cormac treasured riches more than anything—even more than his own life.
