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He was tied up in a cocoon of death. The medieval world had caught him, physically and emotionally.

Finally he felt a push from behind, and with words of the priest still filling his ears, he fell, head down as the sack of rocks pulled him. The iron-gray water sped up to meet him. He took a huge mouthful of air.

A wet slap against his head.

A shock of cold.

Weightlessness.

Muffled gurgling in his ears.

And then the sack pulled him to his death.

* * *

As though time slowed, Anna watched David’s body fly into the water. She was on the other side of the river, and downstream, hiding in the bushes on the bank.

It must have been very quick, just a moment, mayhap two rapid blinks of her eyes.

A loud splash and he was gone.

And she was gone, too. With David’s body hitting the surface of the river, it was her soul that broke into myriad shards.

And they were sinking with him.

Fear for him warred with fury at the priest who was standing so calmly next to the guard. The solemn crowd on the opposite side of the river seemed to cheer up and start talking with one another. As the priest and the guard walked back, there were even relieved smiles. They were thinking, with David gone, the threat to their village had ended. The faeries wouldn’t be called upon to bring sickness and curses. Demons wouldn’t be tempted to come and steal and lurk around, killing livestock, spoiling milk, bringing disease and taking babies’ lives.

Heart racing, she looked into the water. She needed to act. Her knife was in her hand. The people wouldn’t see her from here…most likely.

And yet, here it was, the strong current that could bring death not just to David, but to her, as well.

Her feet were icy cold as she stepped in, her chest hurting. The current tugged at her feet like the hands of kelpies. The memory of the last time she was swimming gripped her. She remembered the impossible strength of the sea current twisting her lungs, choking her. She shook, and she couldn’t feel her legs and arms.

But she couldn’t give in to this. She had to act or David would die.

Anna walked into the river, careful and quick, mindful of the villagers. She took a lungful of air into her painfully tight chest and dove. It was cold and dark, but she kept her eyes open, looking for David.

The water was muddy and green, and bubbles moved up from her undertunic and her hair. She was weightless, letting the water carry her, play with her, be her friend. Not the evil current that would take her to her death.

And there, among the river plants and stones covered with moss and bottom mud, a light shape wavered. She worked her arms faster. Her lungs began burning. She hadn’t had any practice holding her breath underwater for the past seven years. Three more lunges, and she saw David struggling and wriggling his body like a giant worm. The sack of rocks was doing its work—holding him at the bottom.

Her lungs burning, she began sawing through the rope with her knife. It didn’t go easily. The rope kept escaping the knife underwater. She held it tightly with one hand, working the knife back and forth with the other. David’s eyes were wide and anguished. He must be at his last breath. The scorching of her own lungs meant she didn’t have much time left, either.

Finally her knife sliced through the last threads of rope, and she grabbed David and pushed herself and him up. God, he was heavy, and he didn’t move at all, but she needed to bring his head above the water and let him breathe. She pushed and kicked with her legs, propelling the two of them up. The river above her was getting lighter and lighter the higher she went. As she and David emerged into the air, Anna gulped it into her lungs, gasping and coughing and spitting out water.

But he didn’t.

The river kept pulling them downstream, and David sank underwater again. She was still holding him, his head just above the surface, but his neck was limp.

Oh nae!

Was she too late?

Anna didn’t have much time, and she didn’t have the energy to carry a heavy warrior like David and swim upstream towards the horses. She had to work with the river. She let it carry them downstream while swimming towards the shore. Even if she had to walk back some distance to retrieve the horses, at least they’d be out of the water.

An excruciatingly long time later, she felt the rocky, muddy shore under her feet. She took David by the tunic and dragged him until he was lying on the ground. A quick glance at the opposite bank showed her the villagers were gone. Small mercy.

But that wouldn’t matter if David was dead.