Chapter Twenty
The horses nearly ripped my arms out of their sockets. Handling four horses was like trying to harness lightning and make it follow my directions. Each horse had the power of a hundred men, and when they pulled together—I had severely underestimated how difficult this would be.
Wind whipped against my face and I was glad I’d braided my hair.
I yelled to the horses again as we thundered down the straightaway.
My only thought was to reach the starting line as quickly as possible so that I could gain the inside track.
The last person to launch was currently situated in front of it.
I wanted to beat him and claim the inner line for myself.
One of my yoke horses nearly stumbled but quickly regained their momentum and carried on. It again reminded me how much depended on them and not on me.
Being battle-favored did give me some advantages—I was agile and had perfect balance. It made me strong enough to hang on to the reins. I was glad the horses seemed to know what they were doing because we were so close to other chariots that our wheels nearly touched.
Just as I reached the starting line, the driver I had wanted to beat launched forward. I cursed and headed his direction. I felt every bump and sway on the track and adjusted accordingly.
When I heard the whistling of a javelin, it didn’t surprise me.
I ducked out of the way. One of the competitors had thrown it at me—I wasn’t sure which.
It didn’t really matter—I was going to focus on the race while they apparently focused on me.
It would be to their detriment. This was not a place to get distracted.
Which was why I did not permit any thoughts of Zain to enter my mind. He could handle himself.
I called to the horses again, urging them to go faster. I just barely got onto the inner track in front of the last chariot. I had done it. I was first!
But this was the easy part. The first real hardship would come at the turning point. That was where most accidents happened.
When we reached that midpoint, I pulled hard at the flank horse on my left. He got the message and banked into the sharp left-hand turn as we continued to run at a breakneck speed, passing within a hairbreadth of the stone pillar situated there.
Pulling us out of danger.
I heard the sounds of chariots slamming into the wall behind me, the cries of the men who had been injured. How many wrecks had just happened? How many drivers remained?
I could hear the stampeding hooves of the horses right behind me. I didn’t dare turn my head to see what they were doing, but my instincts warned me that there was a plan in place to stop me by any means necessary.
Using the high-pitched whistle my mother favored had the desired effect on the horses and they pulled me away from the men closing in on us. We shot down the track until it was time for the next sharp left turn. I leaned with the horses as they once again took the corner perfectly.
It was then that I noticed two chariots in front of me. They were racing, but not quickly. They had hung back.
Because they had been waiting for me. When they spotted me, they sped up. I saw that they intended to box me in, and who knew what they were planning once they had trapped me.
I wouldn’t give them the chance to execute their plan.
Urging my horses even closer to the inner track, I positioned myself on the outside of the man on the left. I would force him to the right.
He turned and snapped his whip at me. I grabbed the end before it could strike my body and then pulled with all my might. The driver went flying, and his horses turned right into the other chariot, knocking it over.
The chaos of it would affect the other drivers. They would have to navigate around that mess. That hadn’t been my intent—I’d only meant to protect myself.
But it would, admittedly, be to my benefit.
I reached the midpoint again, making my turn. I risked a look across the track and saw the attendants hurrying out to clear the collision and remove the horses and men.
More calling out in pain, more crashing noises, more disappointed sounds from the audience as some of the drivers failed to make the turn.
I was quite a bit ahead of everyone else, coming out of the turn, when I became aware of solid things landing around me. One almost hit me in the head and I grabbed it out of the air, glancing down at it.
It was a nail-studded curse tablet. I was sure the curse had been written against me, but that wasn’t what concerned me—the sharp nails did. If one of those were driven into my horses’ hooves . . .
I wouldn’t let them be injured. I had to pay extremely close attention to where the tablets were and navigate the horses around them. It was slowing me down. A sense of panic began to set in. I hadn’t known the spectators could try and stop me. It was bad enough the other competitors were doing it.
We took the turn more slowly this time, and thankfully the other side of the track didn’t have the tablets. Third lap. Just one more and then this event was mine.
I whistled again. We needed to make up time. I couldn’t let anyone catch me.
But as I came into the straightaway, another chariot lagged behind. He didn’t seem to have weapons, nor was he looking back at me. Perhaps he was having an issue with his team.
As I drew closer, the driver suddenly bent down and grabbed a handful of dirt from the track, flinging it my way. I was able to duck and avoid getting hit by the worst of it, but specks still got into my lungs and my eyes. I blinked rapidly while coughing, trying to clear them out.
It was as if my horses sensed something was wrong with me. They were slowing down. I whistled, trying to get them to go, but they wouldn’t. I could feel the other competitors closing in.
When we took the turn this time, my chariot rocked to one side, balancing on a single wheel before slamming back down.
I yelled and urged my horses to run. This was it.
I could see the finish line from here. Thankfully, the attendants had cleared out the nail tablets.
I sent a quick prayer to Invara that my horses wouldn’t accidentally land on any missed nails.
I heard the sound of a chariot approaching, pulling alongside me.
Who was going fast enough to keep up? I risked a look to my right and saw that it was Zain.
Grinning at me like we were having great fun.
He waved and then pulled ahead of me and I was shocked.
The crowd went wild as we raced down the track.
Faster. I had to go faster. My heart plummeted when my chariot suddenly dropped out underneath me, falling to one side as a wheel rolled away. I glanced at the harness attached to the chariot and saw that it was coming apart. As if it had been cut.
I started to reach for my knife to get myself free, planning where I would go when I landed so that I wouldn’t get trampled.
But it was as if time had suddenly slowed, allowing me to make a different decision. If I cut myself free, I would forfeit the race. I wouldn’t gain any points at all.
How could I finish without a chariot?
A childhood memory flashed in my mind and I switched the reins to my left hand.
With my right I pulled my grandmother’s shield off my back, holding it.
I waited until the lines attaching the horses to the chariot broke completely and then jumped forward, putting the shield under my feet with the smooth side down.
I crouched close to the ground, just as I had when I was a girl, still hanging on to the reins with my left hand.
The audience screamed so loudly that my ears were ringing. This was a temporary fix; the shield wasn’t meant to be used this way and the ground would not allow this to go on for much longer.
Again I was faced with the prospect of cutting the reins and getting myself off the track.
While I was trying to make that decision, the shield hit a rock and sent me flying, but I was ready for it.
I kept my left arm stretched out and closed my eyes, hitting the ground hard.
I kept my face lifted up, and my bracer protected one section of my arm, but I could still feel the dirt grinding away at my skin, eating through my protective tunic.
Then the pain set in.
I considered trying to pull myself up along the reins but that wouldn’t be possible. I couldn’t risk the horses accidentally kicking me in the head if I got too close. My only option was to hang on.
I gripped the reins tighter, clenching my teeth from the sheer agony of how this felt. I would ride this out until the finish line. And I would survive.
This would not be how I died.
I knew I had crossed the line when the audience somehow managed to get even louder. The horses came to a stop and I nearly crashed into them.
But Zain was there, cutting the reins from my waist and pulling them from my hand.
“Illora?”
He sounded like he thought I had died.
“How did you beat me?” I muttered. My entire body throbbed with pain, as if I were just one giant open wound.
His laugh had relief mixed in with it. “I had an all-female team. And I’m usually good at getting females to do what I want.”
Wonderful. He had charmed his horses. I never stood a chance. “What place did I get?”
“Third.”
“It doesn’t count!” That was Levern’s voice.
This day just kept getting better and better.
“Her chariot broke,” Zain retorted. “That wasn’t her fault. She crossed the finish line. It doesn’t say anywhere in the rule book that you have to be in a chariot when you cross the line.”
Healers surrounded me, again pouring terrible-tasting concoctions down my throat.
Someone was removing gravel from my skin while another cleaned the wounds.
They worked on the left side of my torso as well as my left leg.
Half my body was shredded. Ointment was applied and I didn’t feel any relief this time.
Just more pain.
“The judges are reading the rule book,” Zain said. “They must have discovered what I said was true because they all look mad. They’d better not disqualify you or else I think this stadium will riot.”
The people were again calling my name—only this time, it wasn’t just the women.
Men were cheering for me, too.
Waving his hands to quiet everyone, the announcer stepped onto his dais. “The judges have decided that Basileia of Thrace crossed the finish line legally, and her place and points will stand.”
I was so grateful that the king of thieves had spent his time reading the rule book because it had saved me more than once. I was still in this. I still had a chance of winning it all.
“You know, my illora, if you wanted my attention so badly, you could have just said something. You didn’t have to mangle yourself on the track to get me by your side.”
I tried to laugh, but it hurt. “Not everything is about you.”
One of the healers began to cut away what remained of my sleeve, and I realized that the garment the officials had given me had saved me from a worse injury. “I would be missing quite a bit more skin if not for this.”
“Remind me to thank the Sagari later because I’m a fervent admirer of your skin.”
“That makes you sound strange,” I told him, and he let out a small laugh. He also moved his head between my gaze and my arm, as if he didn’t want me to see how bad it was.
“Why is it that every time I want to get close to you, you’re mortally wounded?” he asked.
“I’m not mortally wounded. I’ll be fine.” I hoped.
“The blood on the ground says otherwise.”
One of the healers spoke up. “Some things are more difficult than others, but healing skin has always been one of the easiest. We will take her to the infirmary tonight, and by tomorrow evening she should be herself again.”
Just hours before the next event. I hoped her prediction was correct. It wasn’t even about the diviner stone anymore. It was about defeating each and every one of these men who had tried their hardest to stop me.
“What prompted you to use your shield?” he asked.
“Why are you talking so much?” I scowled. I wanted to sleep.
“The healers asked me to keep you awake.”
That wasn’t good. Were they worried that I’d hit my head? I had done my best to keep my head lifted so that it wouldn’t slam into the ground.
“When I lost a wheel, I considered my options and remembered that when I was younger, after it had rained, my siblings and I would take shields, get behind a horse, and let it pull us down the slick grass. The game was to stay on for as long as possible while also avoiding the horse’s legs.”
“A horse,” he pointed out. “Not four chariot horses.”
My eyelids wanted to close and I fought the feeling. “Yes, it was quite different.”
“In what way?”
He must have known in what way, but he was set on his mission to keep me talking and I would humor him. “It was like trying to harness lightning. Scary and exhilarating and overwhelming. It felt like . . . when you kissed me.”
“Open up.” A healer had another potion for me and I drank it down. “That is for the pain and it will also help you to sleep.”
“I thought she needed to stay awake,” Zain said.
“We didn’t find any lumps on her head during our examination and so we think she’ll be fine.”
I suddenly felt lightheaded. I reached out for Zain with my right hand and he held it. “Don’t go,” I said as my eyelids finally drifted shut.
“I’ll stay with you,” he promised.
And I believed him.