He had ridden just a short way, however, when a shrill whistle made him look back to see Hodge waving frantically. As Simon wheeled his horse, he saw the big man thrust himself off his own mount and vanish into the shrubbery.
Simon put his horse to its fastest pace, wrenched it to a halt near Hodge’s beast, and flung himself from the saddle. Following Hodge’s huge footprints through the shrubbery to the riverbank, he saw the big shaggy-haired Borderer trying to step onto a half-submerged log with a multitude of dead branches thrusting from it.
Seeing the sodden, bedraggled woman clinging to a branch and the child clinging to the woman, Simon said, “Take care or you’ll end in the river with them!”
“I’ll no be going aboard it, m’lord,” Hodge said. “The blessed log be so unstable I’m afeard me weight will dislodge it from what’s keeping it here.”
“Will it take my weight?” Simon asked as he drew near enough to see for himself that the log rocked like a ship at sea.
“I’m thinking I could hold it steady enough for ye,” Hodge said. “Like as not, though, ye’ll get a dousing.”
“I won’t fall in,” Simon said, noting that the woman had not spoken or even tried to push away the heavy strands of muddy hair that obscured most of her face.
She was shivering, clearly exhausted and using the last dregs of her energy to hang on. The child, too, looked spent. But although its arms were around the woman’s neck, it seemed to have sense enough left not to choke her.
He moved up by Hodge, who held on to a stout branch. The log looked like part of a good-sized tree, but it lay too far from shore for him to step onto it. He’d have to leap, and the damnable thing was bound to be slippery.
But if anyone could hold it steady, Hodge could. “Mistress, heed me,” Simon said as he shrugged off his cloak and tossed it over a nearby shrub. “I am going to jump on that log whilst my man holds it steady. When I do, I’ll take the lad from you first. Can you hang on a while longer?”
“I shall have to, shall I not?” she murmured, still barely moving.
“Have faith,” he said more gently. “I won’t let the river have you. Hold fast now, Hodge. Don’t let the damnable thing get away when I jump.”
“I’ve got it, sir.”
The woman looked up as Simon set himself to leap, her eyes widening.
They were an odd grayish brown, matching the muddy water. Her plaits and the loose strands that concealed so much of her face—soaked through as they were and doubtless painted with mud—were a similar color. Her lips were blue.
Despite her bedraggled appearance, she seemed familiar. He wondered if she resided on one of the estates near Elishaw.
Shifting his mind to getting safely on the log, he put one hand on a sturdy branch, picked a flattish spot as the best place to land, and leapt.
The log was indeed slippery, but he kept his balance by grabbing a strong-looking upright branch. Holding it with his left hand, he bent toward the child, saying, “Reach a hand up to me, lad. I’ll pull you out.”
The child shook its head fervently, clinging tighter to the woman.
“Come now, don’t be foolish!” Simon said curtly. “Give me your hand.”
“Obey him,” the woman said quietly. “He will not harm you or let you fall.”
“Them others t-tried to hurt us,” the child said, teeth chattering. “S-sithee, they said they was j-just drowning puppies. But them puppies was us!”
“His lordship only wants to help us get out,” the woman said as calmly as before. “I’m gey cold, and I know you are, too. We must get warm.”
“Come, lad,” Simon said, forcing the same calm firmness into his own voice.
“Me name’s Kit,” the little one said. “And I’m no a lad.”
Stifling his shock that anyone would throw such a wee lassock into a river to drown, Simon said in a gentler tone, “Come now, reach up to me, lassie. I want to have you out of there so I can help the kind woman who rescued you. You do not want her to freeze hard like a block of ice, do you?”
Biting a colorless lower lip, Kit obeyed him, and as he grasped her little arm, he warned himself to be careful. As stick-thin as she was, he feared her arm might snap in a too-tight grip.
Balancing himself and trusting Hodge to keep the log as still as possible, he braced a knee against the upright branch and squatted. Then he used both hands to lift the child. Despite her sodden state, she seemed feather light.
“There now,” he said as he held her close. “Not so bad to be out, is it?”
She was silent, staring over his shoulder at the large, shaggy man behind him.