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doned blocks, looked to the ground and kneeled to their king.
We had almost reached the fourth arch when cries of alarm
broke from the shore. Before I could understand what they
were saying, Don Julián turned and threw himself at me, send-
ing me against the railing. Struggling for balance, I tried to
push him away. But my hands slipped over his wet clothes,
which left a sticky substance on my hands strangely warm.
Just then with a heavy crack, the wooden rail broke under my
weight. Our bodies still entangled, we fell from the bridge.
Soon the cold waters of the river closed over me. I came up
gasping for air, and then went under and up again.As I sank for
the second time someone grabbed me under the arms and
dragged me to a wooden plank. Breathing in deep gulps of air,
I turned around to confront the king. But the king, I realized
with a shudder, was not a threat anymore. Barely able to keep
afloat, he lay by my side in a pool of blood.
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192 CARMEN FERREIRO-ESTEBAN
Trying not to draw conclusions about what I was seeing, I
reached for him. Briefly our eyes met. When his eyes swept
over me without showing any sign of recognition, I shivered
again. I was more afraid of him then than ever before, but for
a totally different reason.
Over my head arrows flew. I could hear the hissing as they
sought their targets, the screams of the wounded after they
found them, and the splashes of the water as the bodies fell.
On the slope of the mountain I had recently climbed down
with Don Alfonso, I could see the archers partially hidden
behind the trees, aiming their bows. But who the attackers
were was a mystery to me.Their colors were not my father s.
Not that I cared. I was too busy with my own problems. By
my side, Don Julián was unconscious. I was holding him with my
right hand, but my arm was getting numb, and I knew I could-
n t do it for much longer. Wasn t anyone going to help? It was
their king after all. But none of the men floating around me
answered my cries. Face down, they drifted downriver, beyond
help, beyond cares.Then, when I had lost all hope of being res-
cued, I saw an empty boat emerging from the shadow of one of
the arches. I kicked the water, propelling the plank forward with
my feet. And the boat came closer and closer until it hit the
board. One hand on the hull, the other around Don Julián s
waist, I led the boat toward some rapids where I knew I could
reach bottom. Standing precariously over the slippery rocks, I
hauled Don Julián into the craft and climbed after him.
I lay on my back, conscious only of my chest heaving
painfully with each breath. Dark clouds billowed over my
head, bringing an acrid odor to my nostrils.And then I was sit-
ting against the bow, and the boat was rocking under me, and
the bridge the bridge was on fire. Long red flames embraced
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TWO MOON PRINCESS 193
the wooden railings with their blazing tongues raised to the
sky. Behind the dark clouds of smoke that had already turned
the day into night, Athos the golden moon was rising.
Down by the shore, the Suavian soldiers were still fighting.
Who was in charge, I wondered, now that they had lost their king?
There could only be one answer. If Don Alfonso were alive, he
would have had to take command. It was too late for dreams of
peace now. Our plan had failed.
Crying without tears, I grabbed the oars and, for the first
time in my life, started rowing. Luckily, the current aided me
and in spite of my awkward tries, we progressed rapidly down
river, away from the deafening clamor of the battle.
It was not until the river took a sharp bend and hid the
bridge from me that I allowed myself to stop. After securing
the oars inside the boat, I crawled toward the king. Don Julián,
his left shoulder pierced by an arrow, was lying on his back in
the same position I had left him. I didn t try to remove the shaft
from his body, as I knew that without the proper care, he
would bleed to death. Instead, I felt for his pulse. It was so slow
and uncertain that I almost missed it.
 At least he has stopped bleeding, I said aloud to reassure
myself. But I remembered the blood running down his shirt as
we struggled on the bridge, and how the water had turned red
around his body as I held him. I wondered whether he had any
blood left.
I shivered. Don Julián, his eyes closed, his tattered clothes
drenched with water and blood, didn t look impressive any-
more. He didn t look like the arrogant king I had grown to hate,
but like a man weary after a long hunt. Besides, regardless of
who he was or what I thought of him, I felt bound to him now
because I had to reluctantly admit that he had saved my life.
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194 CARMEN FERREIRO-ESTEBAN
But what could I do? I was not a doctor. As if in the mem-
ory of a dream, I heard in my mind a voice saying  doctor. It
was a male voice and very, very familiar. Suddenly I remem-
bered.Tío Ramiro had said my mother had been a physician in
her world. If it was true, she might be able to help Don Julián.
My mother and I were not exactly close. I resented her too
much to trust her, but the fact remained that Don Julián was
dying and that she was his only hope. Pushing back the panic
that threatened to paralyze my will, I returned to the bench.
Plunging the oars into the water, I started rowing toward my
parents castle.
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EI GHTEEN
Mother
I rowed into the night, alone with my fears, the unconscious
king a dark shape before the stern. I rowed away from the
battle, but I could still hear the hissing of the arrows and the
screams of the soldiers. I rowed and the splash of the oars
splitting the water reminded me of the bodies falling from
the bridge. Over and over I rowed, staring blankly at the
water until my mind was empty.
Later, much later, the copper reflection of Lua on the
water brought me back. It was a perfect half moon. Three more
weeks until the full moon, I thought. And the memories
returned. I remembered the world beyond the arch where I
had met John. I remembered John and Rosa walking away
from me in the bailey. And I remembered Father discussing
the war with John.
At my feet Don Julián, who was still unconscious,
moaned and jerked his arms. Don Julián, the enemy king.
Careful not to rock the boat, I put the oars inside and crawled
toward him. As I held his arms so he wouldn t hurt himself,
it dawned on me that my father s victory was at hand. If he
attacked now, before the Suavian army had time to recover
195
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196 CARMEN FERREIRO-ESTEBAN [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]