A Dishonorable Knight - By Morrison, Michelle Page 0,47

innately sensible self began to reassert itself.

Pushing herself up, she told herself firmly, "I'm going to make myself sick if I carry on like this. And that is no thanks for Breila’s sacrifice." She looked around, wondering where she was. Crouching down, she could just see the road below through the thick cluster of trees. She turned back to Breila and with one finally caress, left the horse and began making her way towards the road.

She had no idea what time it was, but the sun was high in the sky and the heat was pressing down on her oppressively, filling her nostrils with the smell of hot pine needles and scorched earth. Elena walked for hours, wishing she would come across a stream or a pond or even a hut where she might ask for water. Though her stomach had long since given up complaining at its emptiness, her throat was parched and her head felt light for lack of water.

Her head drooping, she kept walking down the winding road, back and forth as it descended the mountain. In some places it was no more defined than a worn place in the grass. In others, it was wide and smooth enough to allow a cart to pass. When she stumbled over a rock, she bent to inspect her foot. Though she wore boots, they were of thin, delicate leather, meant to peep out from under her gown as she rode, not to support her as she hiked through the Welsh mountains. As Elena straightened, she smoothed her kirtle, the same one she had put on that last morning at Middleham. It was no longer the deep rich blue that was so difficult to achieve in a dye. It was now faded and crumpled, full of dust. She pulled up the hem and frowned at what was once a cream colored chemise of fine Italian cotton. It was now a dingy grey and not a little tattered.

Pushing her tangled hair off her face with a sigh, Elena continued down the road, stumbling more and more often. Oh, if only this heat would abate, she might be able to clear her mind. A rock found its way into her boot but she was too tired to stop and remove it so she continued to limp along. When the sky began to cloud over, Elena was so wrapped in her misery she did not even notice. It wasn't until the first drop hit her face that she glanced up hopefully.

"Thank God!" she said as loudly as her parched throat would allow.

The first drop was quickly followed by several more and Elena let them fall on her face with pleasure. This was no fine mist of rain, but huge cold raindrops that cooled her deliciously and did much to restore rational thought to her muddled brain. Picking up her pace, Elena walked as briskly as her sore feet would allow.

***

"It's no use Gareth! The rivers is too swollen," Cynan shouted over the roar of the Dovey River. The steady downpour of the last hour had filled the narrow stream until it was spilling over its banks and the shallow ford that the men had sought to cross was now impassable.

"We'll have to backtrack and try to cross higher upstream," yelled Bryant.

"Damn!" Gareth bit out. They had made slow progress all day because Bryant's horse had thrown a shoe. Now with this delay, they would be at least a day late reaching Aberystwyth. He wheeled Isrid in a tight circle and led the way back up the muddy road.

***

The rain was no longer refreshing. It was cold. Elena was soaked through and she could scarcely see a few feet in front of her as she waded through the bog that was the road. She pushed her wet hair out of her face. She was suddenly as hot as she had been when the sun had been beating down on her. Gasping for breath, she stopped and raised her face to the downpour. The next minute she was freezing again, shivering in an effort to warm herself. Without realizing it, she resumed her wobbly way along the road, oblivious to everything but the steady drumming of rain on her head as she vacillated between being hot and cold in the downpour. Suddenly, the way ahead of her was no longer dark grey--it was pitch black and her knees buckled as she slid to the ground, unconscious.

***

Isrid reared suddenly, nearly throwing Gareth who was caught unaware.