“Of course.” She gave him a beaming smile. “You look absolutely divine, brother dearest … I mean, Your Majesty.”
With a laugh, he led her out the door. Along the outer gate, a crowd gave a cheer. “You see?” He waved at the crowd. “They all want to see the long-lost princess. Make sure you act properly appreciative.”
She tucked a hand around his arm and leaned against his shoulder. “Indeed, I am grateful for all the beautiful clothes.”
“Of course.” He patted her head the way she patted Brody when he was in dog form. “Let’s go.”
They climbed into the waiting open-air carriage that was covered with gilt. Six white horses with golden riggings and white plumes pulled the coach, handled by a driver dressed in white and gold.
“Do you see the flags there?” Gunther pointed to the large blue-and-gold flags across the courtyard. “That’s where the race will begin.”
“Oh.” Brigitta scanned the area. Groomsmen were readying seven horses, but none of the contestants were in sight. “I thought it would happen in the stadium.”
“It will finish there, but first, they’ll race through the town. They’ll be taking the same route that we are.”
As their carriage passed through the entrance gate, she noted the blue-and-gold flags marking the sides of the wide road. Soldiers were stationed along the route to keep the townspeople from venturing onto the course.
“Wave to the people and smile,” Gunther said as he held up a hand. “It will make their day.”
“Of course.” She waved at a mother and her young children, all dressed in rags, and her smile wobbled. No doubt they would be more impressed by a good meal.
She looked around as they rode down the long street. The buildings were old and run-down, and the stench of poor sanitation hung in the air.
After a while, the coach turned onto a narrower street, still outlined with blue-and-gold flags.
She froze, her hand in the air and a brittle smile on her face. Good goddesses, this was the street she’d seen in Rupert’s memory. The ambush had happened here.
Her gaze flitted along the tops of the tall buildings. The arrows had come from there. Rupert’s father had died on this street. And Rupert would have to ride down this street for the race.
Her eyes burned with tears. He would be forced to relive his worst nightmare.
“What’s wrong with you?” Gunther growled.
“Oh.” She beamed a smile and waved enthusiastically. “I was just overcome for a moment. By my good fortune.”
Her heart thudded. Rupert would have to be strong. If he lost this round, it would be a disaster. She grew increasingly tense as the carriage continued through the town and across a bridge spanning the Loure River.
The huge stadium rose before them. Oblong in shape and four stories high. There had to be at least thirty flags along the top, flapping in the wind. Their carriage drove into a wide tunnel at one end.
“The horses will come through here,” Gunther explained. “The royal box is on the other end, so we’ll have an excellent view.”
As the carriage emerged from the tunnel, Brigitta’s heart stuttered at the sight of so many cheering spectators. The carriage started down the middle of the field, headed for the far end, where a golden box gleamed in the morning sun.
“See the hurdles?” Gunther yelled over the noise.
She noted there were three hurdles crossing the dirt raceway, each one a bit higher than the last.
“Each horse will have to jump those hurdles,” Gunther explained. “Then the rider has to grab one of the spears from that rack.” He pointed at a rack on the far end of the field below the royal box. “After they’ve hit one of the straw targets over there, they’re done.”
She spotted three straw figures that looked like men.
“So you see,” Gunther boasted with a smile. “It’s a test not just of speed, but of strength and accuracy, too.”
The carriage pulled to a stop beneath the golden box, and Gunther led her up the stairs while a hush fell over the stadium and everyone bowed and curtsied.
As they settled in their golden chairs, the carriage drove away and disappeared through the tunnel. The crowd settled onto their benches, and the noise grew loud once again as everyone made their bets.
Brigitta clenched her hands together in her lap and sent a prayer to the twin goddesses to watch over Rupert.
Loud horns blasted in the distance.
The race had begun.
Chapter Twenty-Five
As the contestants raced down the wide main street of Lourdon, Rupert kept his horse in the middle of the pack. The pounding of hooves on cobblestone mixed with the shouts of people who lined the streets and leaned out windows from the upper floors of ramshackle buildings.
“You can’t come in last,” Stefan had told him repeatedly. “But don’t come in first, either. It’s not about winning right now, but surviving till the end.”
Rupert had agreed. It wasn’t hard to make sure the top three contenders stayed in the lead. Each contestant had his number pinned on his back, so he could clearly see One, Two, and Three charging ahead. They had obviously been given the best horses from the stable.
He had decided to aim for fourth or fifth place, and the plan was working well until they turned onto a narrow road. And then it hit him.
Flashes of memory spun around him. This was where his father had died. Sweat broke out on his brow, and he found it hard to breathe. This was where his horse had reared after being shot by an arrow. This was where he’d fallen, and Stefan had yanked him up on his horse. And the alley over there was where Stefan had raced away with the young prince in his arms.
“Seven!” Four shouted at him, and he reeled back to the present. His horse had slowed to a walk.
“What the hell are you doing?” Five yelled.
The contest. “Let’s go!” Rupert spurred his horse into its fastest speed. If he wanted revenge for his father, he had to survive each round. If he wanted to protect Brigitta, he had to win the last round.
He glanced to the side to see Five keeping up with him. Four and Six followed closely. They’d looked out for him. They hadn’t left him behind.
By the Light, he would not let these men die.
They charged across the bridge. In the distance, he could see the top three entering the tunnel to the stadium.
He urged his horse to go faster.
By the time they entered the stadium, the top three had already cleared the hurdles and were throwing their spears. Number Two, the general, hit his target first, and the crowd roared.
Rupert soared over the first hurdle. Five, Four, and Six followed. They made it over the second hurdle, although Six’s horse knocked the top bar off.
The third hurdle was the highest. Rupert cleared it and was halfway to the rack of spears, when he heard a crash and the excited jeers from the crowd.
Six had fallen, and his horse was wandering away. Rupert raced after the horse and caught its reins, then led it back to where Six was slowly rising to his feet.
“Get on!” Rupert ordered.
Six gave him a forlorn look. “I’ve already lost.”
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