first race. “There’s the call. The track’s fast, but I thought I saw a rough section in the second third.”
“Thanks. Go hold Tobin’s hand and remind her that I’ve never fallen off a horse in my life.”
“Blesandin sent you over backward two years ago.”
“That beast had the very devil in him, and I was drunk at the time.”
Rohan laughed and watched Chay guide Akkal into line, knowing he had some time before the start of the race to inspect his own horses. Chaynal raced his stock for business purposes, but Rohan had decided to participate purely for the fun of it. He called his grooms around him and began giving out final riding assignments, then saw Ostvel hovering around the edge of the group, looking wistful.
Rohan gestured him over. “You have an easy face to read,” he observed with a smile.
“I know,” the young man said mournfully. “My lord, I didn’t want to ask but—”
“See that dappled mare? Her name’s Eliziel and she’s a handful on her best days, so be careful. You’ll be riding my colors in the fourth race.”
Ostvel’s eyes shone and for a moment he looked as if he’d drop to one knee in gratitude. Sense got the better of emotion, much to Rohan’s relief. “Thank you, my lord! She’s a beauty! I’ll win the race for you, I promise!”
“You’d better,” Rohan threatened playfully. He gave out the other assignments and went to the royal stands. Being a ruling prince could be fun when one could make other people’s pleasure, as he just done with Ostvel. He looked for Andrade’s blonde head, then climbed up to where she was seated with Camigwen.
“Good morning, ladies,” he said as he took a place beside his aunt. “Where’s Tobin?”
“With Sioned and the High Prince’s charming children,” Andrade replied.
“Oh.” He didn’t want to be reminded that the princesses existed, and he especially didn’t want to worry about what poison would ooze from their remarks to Sioned. “Tell me, Aunt, is Tobin intending to have a good time with them?”
“I wouldn’t put it past her, my lord,” Camigwen said, her eyes dancing. “She’s an education.”
“I agree—but the lessons were rather painful until I grew taller than she.”
“Do you still have the scar where she bit you?” Andrade asked, amused.
“To the end of my days. But don’t reveal my secret, Camigwen—my squire thinks I took it in battle and spreads word of how brave I am.”
“Now that I know your sister, I think your squire is right!” she laughed.
Andrade pointed to the track. “There’s Chay. He’d better win this race—I bet Lleyn a hundredweight of wine against half a measure of his best silk.”
“Start planning your new wardrobe,” Rohan told her.
Jervis, city lord of Waes, had delegated starter’s honors to his eldest son, Lyell. The boy was a gangly sixteen, but stood tall and proud on the platform as he held up the bright yellow flag. The horses lined up and even amid the riot of colored silks it was easy to pick out Chay’s red-and-white, especially when the flag swept down and Akkal surged to the lead.
The first race was a distance trial of three measures that tested heart, lung, and leg. Its matching race would be the last one of the day; the same horses and riders would go the same distance, providing prospective buyers with an excellent idea of the merits of the different studs. Akkal was passed at the measure-mark by Lord Reze’s gray, and the crowd gasped. Chay was always a popular favorite, both for his personal charm and his habit of winning, and the spectators held their breath as Akkal narrowed the gap. The two horses matched each other stride for stride over two-thirds of a measure. Suddenly an arm wearing white striped with russet and Ossetia’s dark green lifted once, twice, and a whip landed with ruthless force across the gray’s hindquarters. Chay’s hands never left the reins, but Akkal’s strides lengthened until it seemed he was flying. When the yellow flag swept down at last, a roar went up all around the track—for nearly everyone had bet on Chay, and won.
“Well,” Andrade said, pleased. “My silk was in doubt for a time, there.”
“If you ladies will excuse me, I’ll go take a look at that gray and see if he’s going to be in any shape for his revenge this afternoon.”
He met Chay on the path back to the paddock, where Akkal would be walked and rested for the final race. Radzyn’s lord had dismounted