Eòin’s heart hammered against his ribs. He knew the bridge was the only way for the villagers to escape the flood’s wrath. If it fell, the whole hamlet would be trapped, the torrent sweeping them into the cold, black maw of the river. He took a step forward, then another, and felt the icy spray soaking his cloak. The water surged beneath his boots, clawing at his ankles, trying to pull him into its depth. He lifted his glaive, the metal glinting briefly before the rain obscured it.
The bridge, though cracked, held. Villagers began to emerge from the hamlet, eyes wide with wonder and gratitude. Children clutched their mothers, and elders whispered prayers to the river spirits. Seumas clapped a hand on Eòin’s shoulder, his eyes shining with pride. highlander torrent
“Stand fast, lad!” a voice shouted from the far side of the bridge. It was Seumas, the village blacksmith, his massive frame already drenched, his eyes fierce. He held a length of iron chain, the ends rusted but still strong. “We’ll brace the arch together. If the stone gives, we’ll throw the chain across and use it as a lifeline!” Eòin’s heart hammered against his ribs