Elowen turned her head, irritation rising in her at the hint of a smirk on Bertrand’s face as he seized her reins in a superfluous imitation of Theo’s earlier action.
“You don’t have me, and you don’t need to,” she told him crisply, pulling the reins free of his grip. “I’m in no need of assistance.”
The words had barely left her mouth when an echoing boom sounded across the area. Elowen instinctively ducked, her hand trembling as she ran it over Ochre’s flank. “It’s all right, girl,” she told the horse soothingly.
Her first thought was that the horse seemed calmer than she was, given the terror rising in her as she watched a wall of water burst from the shattered dam, alarmingly close behind the still-galloping Theo and Sophia.
But a moment later, Ochre gave a sudden, violent start, a whinny of alarm escaping her. Before Elowen knew what was happening, the mare had plunged forward. Ochre had never bolted with Elowen before, and it was all she could do to keep her seat. The horse was clearly in a blind panic, because she wasn’t galloping away from the danger, instead boltingalongside the out-of-control torrent of water now engulfing the small plain.
Elowen could hear the screams and cries behind her, but she tuned them out, focusing on getting her steed under control.
“It’s all right, Ochre,” she called to the horse, pulling firmly and steadily on the reins as she clung on desperately with her knees. “We’re all right. Trust me, girl, we can get clear of this.”
Her heart was hammering in her chest as Ochre stumbled, the horse’s hooves dancing right on the edge of what was becoming a furious river. But Ochre recovered her footing, and Elowen thought the animal was starting to respond when another horse suddenly crashed into Ochre’s side, almost crushing Elowen’s leg.
“I’m here, Princess!”
Bertrand’s shout was extremely unwelcome—Elowen could have screamed with frustration as Ochre was sent back into a panic. Bertrand was thundering alongside her, the terrain doubly dangerous now two horses were galloping down such a narrow space so close to the churning water.
“What are you doing?” she yelled, as a hand seized her arm and started tugging her roughly off her horse. It was hard enough to keep her seat without Bertrand trying to drag her out of it.
“I’ll pull you onto my horse!” he called.
He gave another violent tug, which caused Elowen to slide down Ochre’s flank, making the horse lurch wildly to the side. Elowen barely managed to stay on, and fear gripped her as Ochre floundered, up to her shins in swirling, sucking water.
She heard Bertrand let out a curse, and dimly saw that a huge boulder ahead had forced him to peel away and ride around it, further from the water.
Good riddance.
Ochre was valiantly trying to keep her feet, but the horse was moments from being truly swept into the torrent, and Elowen would go with her. There was no way to safely dismount the horse, even if she’d wanted to.
Then, somehow, another hand appeared, grasping Ochre’s reins. In the chaos of the torrent, Theo still radiated the same calm as he had before the dam burst. His horse, obedient to his iron hand, was thundering along at the outer edge of the water, past its ankles in the flood. Relief flooded Elowen for a moment, before it was replaced by dread as she braced to once again be hauled from the relative security of her seat.
But Theo didn’t seize her arm. He kept his hand on Ochre’s reins, maintaining his own seat with incredible grace considering his precarious position. By small degrees, he angled them away from the water, and within moments, Elowen went from the edge of disaster to clear ground, Ochre already starting to slow her frantic pace.
She drew in gasping breaths, her heart showing no sign of slowing to match the horse’s gait. Theo said nothing, keeping hold of Ochre’s reins as they cantered in a wide arc, giving the horse time for its panic to subside. When at last they slowed and stopped, a long way from where they’d started, he still didn’t release the reins.
“Are you all right?” His voice was low and urgent, and Elowen realized he was breathing as hard as she was.
“Yes,” she said, the word not coming out steady. “Thanks to you.”
Their eyes met, then, abruptly, Theo released the reins, his hand shifting to cover hers instead. It engulfed her smaller hand completely, and she felt her fingers trembling under his firm touch.
“You’re all right,” he said, a tremor in his voice. “I won’t let you fall.”
“Fall?”
She blinked, confused by his words and feeling dazed as the enormity of events caught up with her. Two disasters in as many days. And she’d been idiotic enough to get herself embroiled in both of them. Her eyes passed over the devastation the flood had left in its wake, hardly able to take it in.
The sound of thundering hooves met her ears, and the next moment Bertrand came into view, his face red and angry.
“What were you thinking?” he spat at the prince. “Why didn’t you get her off the horse to safety?”
“Your attempt to pull her off the horse almost got her killed.” If Bertrand’s voice was fiery, Theo’s was ice.
“And you almost killed Ochre as well,” Elowen said indignantly, remembering how the horse had been thrown off course further into the flood when Bertrand had tugged her half down its flank.
“You made a dangerous situation infinitely more so,” Theo agreed. “There was no need for any loss of life.”
