struck him in the flank with a spiked club. “Trainer Verlas, control your student!” Artlar called.
Tamra flashed a fake smile at Artlar and Gette. “Apologies! Excitable youth. I promise we’ll be an audience from now on.” She plopped herself into Lady Evara’s fancy cushioned chair and propped her feet up on the track wall.
“What now?” Raia whispered.
“Sit with me and watch. Do nothing else.” Tamra patted the chair next to her. She was sweating more than she should be, but it was important to look confident and unconcerned in front of Artlar and Gette. Small victories were still victories.
Reluctantly, Raia sank into the chair.
“Do you want to take bets on how long they’ll last?” She kept her voice light, as if she were certain they’d fail and didn’t have a worry in the world.
“You . . . don’t think they can do it?” Raia asked.
“He’s your racer. Not theirs.” Please, Lady, let me be right. If this kehok was truly different than the others, more intelligent, more . . . She hesitated in thinking the word “loyal.” No matter his lineage, he was still a kehok.
“But he’s a kehok,” Raia said, as if echoing her thoughts. “He’s special, yes, but he doesn’t remember who he—”
Tamra cut her off before she said anything she shouldn’t. “He remembers we promised him his freedom. That’s what he races for. Freedom. He won’t race out of fear. Not your kehok.” I hope, she thought.
Raia blinked at her, and then slowly, tentatively, she began to smile.
Despite all their bluster about being ready, it took Gette and Artlar the better part of an hour before they had the track set up with all their tools and other supplies: several different saddles, an array of whips and weapons, hurdles and hoops for the kehok to jump over and through as it learned obedience. As they prepared, the trainer and rider each took turns coming over to the kehok at seemingly random intervals to terrorize him—hurting him while he was chained to the wall to prove their dominance.
It was difficult not to interfere. But if this was to play out the way she hoped it would, then she had to let them fail entirely on their own. She took calming breaths to try to keep herself lounging in the chair, rather than leaping onto the sands.
“Trainer Verlas, I can’t stand this.” Raia shot to her feet. “Not with a rider like Gette.”
Tamra put her hand on Raia’s wrist. “You must stand this,” she hissed. “You might win this battle, but you’d lose the war.”
She heard a gate open and glanced back to see Lady Evara had returned, with Augur Yorbel. He looked decidedly unhappy to be here. Nudging Raia, Tamra vacated the chairs. She didn’t say a word as they swept past her, but Lady Evara’s gaze lingered on her, questioning.
Tamra nodded. This will work, she thought. I’ve never been wrong about a kehok.
Her thoughts flashed back to last year’s final race, and she firmly pushed the memory away. She was rarely wrong about a kehok.
Adjusting her massive hat—a tower of flowers—Lady Evara took her seat, graciously offering the seat next to her to Augur Yorbel. Tamra couldn’t hear what they were saying to each other. She leaned against the track wall with Raia beside her. Across the sands, she saw Artlar had noticed the arrivals.
“The Great Artlar has an audience now,” Tamra said softly. “He’ll begin.”
She was right.
Only a few minutes after Lady Evara and Augur Yorbel arrived, Artlar unchained the kehok from the wall, while Gette whipped him in the face with one of the spiked whips.
The kehok yelped.
Tamra saw Augur Yorbel start up out of the chair, but Lady Evara held him back, no doubt telling him that the new trainer and rider had been requested by the emperor-to-be.
Lady Evara caught Tamra’s eyes as Augur Yorbel settled back down, and Lady Evara winked at her. It was as clear as if she’d spoken: Let the bastards hang themselves.
Tamra wasn’t certain when she and Lady Evara became partners in all this, and she wasn’t sure how she felt about that, but it was nice to have her on her side. Tamra certainly wouldn’t want to be her enemy.
On the sands, the trainer and rider had affixed a saddle onto the kehok. Tamra recognized the type: it had spikes beneath it, so that with every shift of the rider’s weight, the kehok would receive a jolt of pain, to encourage him to obey the rider’s slightest movement.