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I risk a look back, I can see the breath and sweat flying from the horses. There are six of them and only one of me on an old nag, half dead. Jack Bridge ahead. I can be horsemeat for the Duke of York or take a chance on Colden Water. Belle's hooves crack on the stone bridge as I slide off into grinding water. I lurch over a fall and am dumped in a swirl that goes into a race down the clough. Walls press the water deep and swift. . High above me a tower of stone. I smell smoke and sulphur. Ragged hordes push carts into the Hell Mouth. One drone sees me pass, picks up a rock and shies it . My hand goes up, I go under. I see the moon rising through water and think "I am a fish."