As silent as snakes, we slid into the water. The cold of it was so shocking I had to fight the urge to yelp. Susannah’s fingers dug into my arm as the floods reached our shins, our knees. Once or twice, when I felt her hesitate, I urged her on. Before long, the quiet seemed to settle again, Susannah’s chattering teeth the only noise I could hear.
‘I think we’ve lost them,’ I whispered.
‘Dr Blood is a plump coward,’ she whispered back. ‘He’d never keep up with us for long.’
Still, we didn’t dare stop. We crossed one field, then another, this time wading downhill. Overhead, the cloud had thinned to reveal an almost-full moon, which lit up the floods ahead of us with a silvery path. The water began to deepen, until it was up to our hips. Beneath the surface, things brushed against my legs. I tried to believe they were just sticks or old cabbage stalks, but my exhausted brain kept tricking me into remembering all the dead creatures I’d seen these past couple of days. I wasn’t convinced we’d lost Dr Blood for good, either. Every hedgerow, every man-shaped tree made me start. Susannah was as jumpy as I was, and suddenly stopped dead. ‘Lord above, look at that, would you?’
‘What is it?’ I hissed, my heart beating very fast.
She let go of my hand to point. ‘Over there. It’s a living animal – is it a cow?’
As my eyes adjusted, I saw steam coming from the creature’s nostrils, and the curve of a pair of very pricked ears.
‘It’s a horse!’ I almost laughed in relief.
The poor thing was standing in the small part of the field where the water was at its shallowest. It whinnied, sounding as relieved as I was. Before we knew it, it was coming towards us. It wasn’t a small beast, either, and its big chest pushing against the water sent little waves that broke on us, splashing our faces.
I was a bit wary of horses, to be honest, but when it reached us, it stopped, sniffed us very gently, then rested its hairy chin on my shoulder. Bea squealed in delight and tried to grab its mane.
‘Dear creature, it’s so pleased to see someone,’ Susannah crooned, stroking its nose.
‘It wants us to rescue it,’ I guessed.
‘Can’t we?’
I thought she was joking.
‘Horses are great swimmers,’ she explained. ‘And look at her, she’s got a back wide enough for all of us.’
‘You mean, we ride the horse through the water?’ I said, because it honestly hadn’t occurred to me.
*
It wasn’t exactly comfortable, sitting astride the horse, but Susannah was in front of me, so she could tell the creature what to do.
I wrapped my arms tightly around her waist, just below the bump in her bodice made by Bea, who, now she actually needed to hold the horse’s mane, was trying to eat her sister’s hair instead.
‘Ready?’ Susannah asked.
I grimaced. ‘As I’ll ever be.’ In truth, I felt a bit sorry for the poor beast who had two dripping-wet people to carry.
Yet carry us she did, with long easy strides that took us across the valley in very little time. We struck out along a road – at least, it seemed like one, for buildings ran along it on either side. There were no lamps at the windows though, or smoking chimneys or barking dogs tied up in the yards. The only sound was the lap of water. It might’ve been restful on a beach or by a river, but here it felt strange and haunting. We passed flood-filled barns, where hay meant for the animals now floated in mouldering heaps, and houses with their front doors warped.
‘Where is everyone?’ Susannah wondered out loud.
I kept quiet. I was thinking of drowned bodies again, and of my family, who I prayed were safe: seeing all these damaged homes was making me worry. Susannah, I sensed, was thinking of Ellis. At least, something had made her gentle shivering suddenly stop, then start again as a violent shudder. It was difficult to keep my arms round her.
‘What’s the matter?’ I asked.
With difficulty, she untangled her fingers from the horse’s thick mane, and pointed not far ahead where the houses stopped. Beyond it, the water waited like a threat.
‘It gets deep again,’ Susannah warned.
‘You said horses could swim,’ I reminded her.
She squared her shoulders. ‘So I did.’
A squeeze from her heels and the horse broke into a trot. I really did have to hold on with all my strength now, yet still seemed be slipping one way, then the other, but always in the direction of the horse’s belly. The bones in my backside hurt. As for my legs, I’d stopped feeling them a few miles ago.
We hit the water at speed. The horse surged forward like a boat launching, then suddenly the movement changed. It wasn’t a jolting, tooth-rattling trot any more, but something smooth, almost floaty.
‘Is this it? Are we swimming?’ I asked in amazement.
‘We are. Just keep still. Let her find her way.’
The horse seemed to be following the line of the trees on our left. Beneath me I could feel its shoulder muscles powering through the water.
‘Good girl,’ Susannah murmured. ‘Queen of horses, that’s it.’
The horse, ears flicking at her voice, kept swimming. The water lapped against our legs, but came up no higher, which meant Bea, at least, was snug and dry. We were gliding so effortlessly, I began to relax. It reminded me of floating in the boat with Jem, when I’d been so at peace. I laid my cheek against Susannah’s shoulder, feeling the warmth of her through her dress. The horse’s gentle movement went on: I was so tired I couldn’t help but close my eyes.
When I came to, we were on dry land again, no longer moving. The horse was snorting and shaking its head. Susannah’s shoulder blades beneath my cheek felt tense.
‘What’s happened?’ I asked, blinking awake. There was too much light to see properly what was going on.
Susannah didn’t reply. The light, I realised in horror, came from burning torches. We were surrounded on all sides. The witch-hunt had caught us.