DragonKnight (8 page)

“Thank you,” N’Rae answered, with a pleased smile brightening her face.

As they walked back to the inn, N’Rae chattered about the day. Bardon didn’t really listen but let the light babble wash over him like a merry piece of music. One phrase caught his attention.

“—so I think it should change.”

“I’m sorry, N’Rae. What should change?”

“Breaking the kindias. It should change to gentling, or taming, or even convincing, but breaking is too harsh. When we were finished with the kindias, they weren’t broken as if destroyed. They were happier, almost like they had realized their purpose and embraced it.”

“You are being quite the philosopher.”

“You don’t have to go to school to be smart. You do have to keep your eyes open, though. My mother always said I had good eyes.” She paused and sighed. “I wonder if Mistress Seeno will approve of what we’ve done today.”

         
9
         

T
HE
R
ACE

The next morning as he topped the hill with N’Rae, Bardon saw Ilex pacing in front of the well-lit barn. The crisp dawn barely supplied enough light for him to make out the other figures moving from the big barn near the main house to the smaller barn holding the newly broken kindias.

As they stepped into the circle of light thrown out from the open door of the barn, Bardon spoke to Ilex. “Is this the preparation for Hoddack’s trip?”

The older man jumped. “Didn’t see you coming. No, trip’s canceled. Hoddack had an idea in the middle of the night. He roused everyone a couple of hours ago. We’re going to have a race.”

“Why?”

“Hoddack thinks the kindias you broke won’t make it through the first mountain pass. Then he won’t have to pay you.”

“When does the race start, and who’s riding?”

“Eight o’clock, and the workers here on the farm. They’re all experienced kindia riders.”

“I want to speak to Hoddack.”

Ilex jerked a thumb over his shoulder toward the barn. “In there.”

“Thanks.” Bardon strode into the barn bustling with activity. N’Rae followed like a shadow. Every stall had a kindia in it. Bardon counted fifteen. Men groomed the kindias and checked saddles for any signs of weakness.

N’Rae touched his arm. “May I visit with the animals?”

Bardon nodded his assent.

Hoddack came to him from the other end of the room.

“You heard about the race? I have men establishing their bonds with the kindias now. It’s a ten-mile run into the mountains, over Old Man Peak, and down the other route that lands them in rocky, no-good territory before they get to the clean run back to the farm. Should take five to six hours. A minor test of stamina for a kindia.”

“I’d like to ride, Master Hoddack.”

“In the race?”

“Yes.”

The gruff owner of the stables looked him over. “You want to be along to see there’s no foul play, don’t you? You think I might tell my boys not to push the kindias, to hold ’em back. Think I might pull something sneaky. Don’t blame you. I’d be thinking along those lines if our places were reversed.”

The older man slapped Bardon on the back. “Sure, you can ride. Just pick a mount.” He turned and shouted. “Ilex, give Squire Bardon any kindia he chooses to ride for the race. Men, I want you each to give an all-out effort to win this race. Therefore, the winner receives one thousand grood. If the squire here wins, he has to split it with the man who gave up his mount so he could race.”

A cheer rose from the men attending the kindias, followed by some good-natured joking.

Hoddack looked Bardon in the eye. “Now you see that this race is in earnest.”

“I admit you’ve confused me, Master Hoddack. I thought you didn’t like to part with your money, and this race was to save you the fee you owe me for breaking the five kindias.”

“I’m a businessman. I go by what’s fair, and sometimes, I have to make others operate under the same code. I got no way of telling whether you and that girl are charlatans or not.” He slapped Bardon on the shoulder as if he had not just cast aspersions on the squire’s character. “Now, last night, I got to thinking that when the countryside hears about this race and the circumstances that brought it about, they’ll be clamoring for one of my stock. Prices’ll go up.” He frowned. “And if your kindias fall way behind, throw their riders, and take off for the wild, then I only have to pay the winner a thousand grood, saving the fifteen hundred more I’d have to give to you.”

“And if one of the kindias we broke wins?”

“Well, then, I’m out a lotta coins, but my reputation is not only safe but doubled, maybe even tripled. Your kindias break down, they’ll say how shrewd I am not to let you cheat me. Your kindias prove out, then I’m a shrewd dealer with the best stock in the country.” Hoddack grinned and went off to speak to one of the other men.

N’Rae came back to Bardon’s side as soon as the owner moved off. “The kindias are excited. The ones who have raced before can hardly wait. They want the people to quit fooling around and get them out to the starting line.”

“How about the ones you broke yesterday?”

“I didn’t break them. I told you, that’s an absurd term.”

“The kindias you introduced to the barn, then. How are they doing? Nervous? Scared by all this hubbub?”

“They were at first, but I explained to them what’s happening, and now they’re eager to run.”

“Hoddack has given me permission to ride. Which one of our kindias would be a good mount?”

“You’re asking me?”

“Of course! You would know.”

N’Rae’s mouth hung open for a second. She snapped it shut, then pointed to a pale kindia with a dark mane and dark stripes on his legs. “The men call that one Ten because he has ten stripes on his legs. The other animals admire him and consider him their leader.”

“Then I shall ride Ten.”

Ilex explained the route twice.

“I want you to win this race, boy,” the old farm worker said. “It’s been a long time since I rode in one, and it would feel mighty good to be backing the winner. And I’m backing you. Remember the turn at the giant monarch tree leads to a sudden decline. It’ll be like sliding down the hill on the kindia’s rump.”

Bardon nodded as he continued to stroke Ten with his bare hands, giving the animal a chance to become familiar with the new rider.

“And remember,” continued Ilex, “the starting rope takes about two seconds to hit the ground. Don’t spur your mount until you count to two. You’d be surprised how many races are lost with the kindia’s front feet tangled in the rope. You better hope the kindias on either side of you have smart riders too.”

N’Rae stood at Ten’s head and seemed to be lost in an exchange of ideas. Bardon’s mouth quirked at the corner as his kindia nodded as if replying to something the young emerlindian said.

A trumpet blast from the main house signaled for the men to bring their mounts to the starting line. A forty-foot rope stretched from the porch of the big house to the large barn. A crowd continued to gather from the town and neighboring farms.

Bardon looked over the throng.
Hoddack’s going to get the publicity he wants.
As he walked with Ten, he watched the men around him leading their kindias up the hill.
These animals certainly don’t act like horses do before a race. They’re plodding toward the starting line as if they were going to nothing more than another stable. Yet N’Rae says that each one is excited.

At the top of the hill, they stood with the kindias as Hoddack gave a speech about riding fair and a brief description of the route.

Now I’m glad Ilex told me which trails to take. Hoddack’s description doesn’t amount to much.

A magistrate from the town ordered the riders to make ready. They climbed into the saddles. Bardon, without thinking, vaulted onto Ten’s back as if mounting his dragon. He heard the stir among the onlookers and deliberately focused on getting Ten to a place along the rope.

Two burly marione men untied the starting line and held it taut. The magistrate called for silence. The crowd hushed.

“On the count of three, these men will drop the rope. Let this be an honest race, honoring the fair city of Norst. One.”

Bardon leaned over Ten’s neck.

“Two.”

He squeezed his knees against the saddle.

“Three.”

The rope fell. Bardon counted to two and dug in his heels.

On either side of him, racers plunged forward. He vaguely recognized a kindia several mounts down rearing up instead of charging forward. Whoops and hollers covered the clamor of hoofbeats on the dry road. But the racers soon left the uproar behind.

The first stretch of the race followed a meandering road through the foothills. At various points along the way, small knots of people stood waiting for the racers to pass. They cheered, waved their hats, and jumped up and down. Bardon held second place and hoped to stay there. The rider in front of him certainly knew the racecourse. He never hesitated at a turn. Bardon followed, planning to urge Ten to pass the leader on the last stretch.

They rounded a bend and nearly ran into a farm cart. Ten sidestepped the wagon and kept going.

Now, here’s a big difference. Greer and I would have been hundreds of feet or more above that obstacle. But Ten seems to know what he’s doing.
Bardon chortled.
That makes one of us. I don’t have to win this race. We and the other kindias N’Rae tamed just need to make a good showing.

He looked over his shoulder.
So far, so good. Our kindias are in the front half of the pack.

They turned into a rocky canyon. No more pastures lined the way. The kindia took to the pathway like a mountain goat being chased by a high-country cat.

As Ten climbed behind the lead kindia, Bardon bounced in the saddle. Several times the kindia jumped from one large, flat boulder to the next. With each landing, Bardon felt like his teeth would be jarred out of his mouth and his bones would crack.

Riding Greer is a breeze compared to this. Where’s the soothing stroke of his strong wings? Where’s the smooth glide and steady pace?

Ten scrambled down into a gully, following the kindia in front of him. Bardon no longer consciously directed his mount but rather let the beast decide how best to keep on the narrow pass.

Leaning almost flat on the animal’s neck, Bardon spoke words of encouragement. “You’re a good kindia, Ten. You’re beating all the rest with no help from me.”

They left the jumble of rocks and entered a forested area. The trail narrowed and twisted back on itself, zigzagging up the steep mountain. Several times Bardon looked over the edge and saw the heads of riders below him.

Ten didn’t appear to mind the height. Bardon, on the other hand, who usually soared among the clouds when traveling, began to feel dizzy whenever he looked over the edge. To keep nausea at bay, he stared between Ten’s two long ears.

They crested Old Man Peak above the timberline. Here the wide path allowed the riders to juggle their positions. Another kindia and rider passed Bardon and Ten. Ten snorted, and Bardon laughed out loud.

“It’s all right, boy. We’ll barrel past those two when we get on the homestretch.”

The weathered rock didn’t offer much for the kindia’s hooves to grip. They mostly slid down to the tree line.

This is rough. And Ilex said it got a little steep after the giant monarch tree.

The older man’s words came back to him.
“After that, boy, just hold on for all you’re worth and petition Wulder to keep your saddle intact. There’s no pride or style in riding down that mountain. You just lie back against the high cantle and hold on! You might even want to close your eyes. Ten will know which way to go, and you couldn’t turn him anyways. Blessed thing is, it don’t last long. Maybe twenty seconds of going straight down. After that, Ten will prance through the crumpled pile of boulders at the bottom and then along the dry creek bed. Kind of sandy there. Then the rest is easy.”

They raced through the thickening forest along a switchback path. Loose rocks fell on the first riders as the riders behind plunged along the trail above.