Tempting Fate (65 page)

“Very good, sir,” Roger said with the proper deference.

Konrad Natter, who was sitting on the nearest end of the stands, looked up as Ragoczy approached. “Your ward is riding, I hear.”

“Yes, Herr Natter. I’ve only just left her to prepare.” He did not like the man, but knew enough to mask this with excellent manners.

“The Society of Huntsmen qualified her?” Natter asked with no attempt to conceal his sneer. “It was not always so: this is an event for Deutsche.”

“But I have seen in the records that Lajos Marosar was the Grand Master of the Society for more than ten years. Surely a society that tolerates a Hungarian to lead it can bear to have a Russian girl compete at one of its events.” His face was bland and his words were wholly respectful, but his back was very straight and the light in his dark, dark eyes quelled Natter’s next objection.

“It’s a lax state of affairs,” was all Natter decided to say, and that was more of a mumble than a challenge.

“All Europe is in a lax state of affairs,” Ragoczy pointed out before moving on to the steps to his place in the stands. As he walked, he thought a moment about the endless tiers of seats at the Circus Maximus, extended to hold sixty, then seventy, then eighty thousand people, and still the crowding was ferocious, and there were constant plans to increase its seating capacity. Here there were no marble seats, no hawkers of wine, fruit juices, nuts, or meat-filled breads. One fresh-faced boy of fifteen or so stood by a barrel and filled the proffered steins to the spectators if they approached him. Such a child would not have lasted five minutes with the Roman crowd.

His seat was toward the top of the stand. Earlier in the day he had taken the precaution of putting a pillow down, which was a fairly common practice. That the center of the pillow was filled with his native earth was his private concern, and one he was in no hurry to mention.

The fourth of six young men was finishing up his display of his five-gaited mount. He was not an expert rider, but his instincts were right, and he carried himself better than most of the others had. At the conclusion of his ride, he dismounted in the elaborate tradition of the Austrian hussars fifty years ago. Ragoczy, watching him, suspected that the young man’s grandfather probably taught him to ride.

“Herr Ragoczy?” a voice on the ground behind the stands called out quietly.

Ragoczy turned, and smiled as he recognized Gudrun. “Good afternoon, Frau Ostneige,” he said, half-rising as he spoke. “I did not think to see you here, or I would have suggested you permit me to take you up in my automobile.”

“That’s hardly necessary,” she said quickly. “My brother has brought me, and … He prefers to escort me himself to such neighborhood events.” The last was said with an apologetic smile that served to point up the sorrow in her eyes.

“I hope you will have time to talk after this next competition. I would come down now, but Laisha is riding in the next set, and I want to watch her.” He made no excuse for his partiality, nor did he feel he had to.

Gudrun looked around anxiously, then called up to him, “I hope she wins.”

Ragoczy was mildly surprised by this sudden kindness and he responded at once. “I will tell her you said so.”

“Danke, Herr Graf.” The reason for her reserve was quickly apparent. Maximillian came around the end of the stands with a brimming stein in one hand and a notebook in the other. “Maxl,” she said, going to him and putting her hand through the crook in his arm. “I think we’ll have to ask Otto to bring the rug. Herr Ragoczy has just told me that the stands are even colder than it is here on the ground.”

Maximillian showed Ragoczy one disapproving glance, then gave his attention to Gudrun. “You’re probably right. Whatever possesses the Society of Huntsmen to have these gatherings in October, I will never know.”

What Gudrun said to her brother was lost in the sound of the megaphone, as it was announced, to a flurry of applause, that the last set had been won by Rudolf Maler. The junior competition in hunt riding was called, and the names of eleven contestants were read off. Laisha, Ragoczy noted, was placed in the tenth position, which was not entirely to her advantage. The last rider was a good five years younger than she was, and had never finished the course before.

The first two riders, a boy of about twelve and a girl a bit older, did acceptably but without distinction. However, they were part of a large hochgebornen family in Bayrischzell who had lost almost everything they possessed in terrible inflation. At that time they had traded most of their luxuries—paintings, silver service, fine furniture and carpets, automobiles, jewels—to keep from starving. Now they had their Schloss and land and very little else. The horses the two children rode had been borrowed from more fortunate friends. The spectators accorded them more applause than their performance warranted, but this was to be expected.

The fifth horse stumbled on the watery jump and the resulting swath of exposed mud quickly became a hazard, growing wider and more uneven with every hoof that touched it. By the time it was Laisha’s turn to compete, there was a boggy marsh on the far side of the little pond that constituted the water jump. The committee of judges had almost decided to stop the competition, but now, with the set so nearly over, they allowed the rides to continue.

Laisha had watched the other young riders take the course with a critical eye. The first half of the course did not trouble her; she had often had more demanding rides around Schloss Saint-Germain. Babieca would not have any difficulty with the various obstacles she would have to clear. There were a few other hazards which bothered Laisha, not the least of which was the water jump. She was fairly certain that if she attempted to take Babieca over it as it was laid out, there was no way to keep them from falling in the treacherous mud. That meant, she reminded herself, that she would have to avoid the mud. She heard her name called over the megaphone and came out of the waiting ring. She pulled her cap onto her head and looked once at where her crop looped over her wrist, then rode to the foot of the judges’ stand. After the required salute, she clapped her heels to Babieca’s side and started into the course at an easy canter.

Ragoczy watched with pride as Laisha cleared the first two jumps with room to spare and in such good form that one of the more enthusiastic spectators in the lower part of the stand clapped appreciatively. Like Laisha, Ragoczy was concerned about the water jump, and wished he had talked it over with his daughter before she set out on the ride. Yet he knew that Laisha would not have welcomed such interference; it was her ride, not his, and she must do it as she thought best. Had she been younger, then he might have insisted that they review her strategy before she began, but she was past the age when it was advisable to treat her so. She was, he reminded himself, an intelligent and capable girl who would soon be a young woman. His eyes followed her over the third jump with real approval. She had a good sense of pacing, and Babieca was not yet using her full strength on the course. But the fourth jump, the water jump, loomed ahead, the size of Schliersee itself in his mind.

Laisha gathered the reins more firmly, her hands lying close to Babieca’s neck. She adjusted her weight as she had been taught to do, then swung her mare off the course so that she was coming at the water jump at an angle. The jump would be longer but would not end in a sea of mud. Her crop slapped against the mare, just enough to urge her to a greater effort. She rode as close to the low hedge before the pond as she dared, then felt Babieca gather under her. The mare soared into the air, recognizing her rider’s signals for a long reach. She obeyed, coming down lightly on the very edge of the pond, made an easy recovery, and was back on the set trail.

One of the judges was standing up, his face a deep plum color. He was shouting something even as the other two reached up to restrain him. As Laisha rode the rest of the course, the argument became more heated, and finally the enraged judge insisted that the secretary of the event, who was announcing with the megaphone, come to their stand.

By that time Laisha had drawn rein in front of the stand and was waiting for the usual dismissal, which she did not receive.

“You!” the angry judge bellowed at her. “You’re that foreign girl, aren’t you? There,” he insisted to his colleagues. “I told you what would happen if we relaxed our standards. You saw what she did, how she behaved. No child of mine would be permitted to ride in such a way! You!” He directed his baleful gaze at Laisha again, this time with such malevolence that one of the other judges grabbed his elbow as if to restrain him. “Do you realize what you’ve done? It is not permitted! You deviated from the course. You are disqualified, and if I ever see your name entered on an event sponsored by the Society of Huntsmen again, I will have it stricken from it, I warn you. We are here to promote sport, and there can be no sport without discipline.” His color was less alarming, but he was definitely not appeased. It was only at the urging of the other two that he resumed his seat. He took a sheet of pink paper and scrawled on it, and with a defiant stare at the other two, handed it to the secretary. “Read it precisely as I have written it.”

Laisha was very straight in the saddle now, and she met the judge’s eye. “Would you rather I took that jump, landed in the mud, killed myself, and crippled my horse? And if I were Deutsche rather than Russian, would you still condemn me for my actions?” She did not wait for a response, but kicked Babieca’s sides sharply, so that the mare was jolted into a gallop. The assembly ring was near at hand, and she knew she was supposed to pull up there, but by now her temper was taking hold of her and she wanted to vent it, if necessary by exhausting her mare and herself.

“The judges have made a decision,” the secretary brayed through the megaphone, his discomfort making his voice strident. “The ride by Laisha Vlassevna Ragoczy is being disallowed because of willful alteration of the prescribed course. The judges censure the rider for her deliberate actions which are insulting both to this gathering and to the Society of Huntsmen. Laisha Vlassevna Ragoczy is hereby banned from further participation in activities of the Society of Huntsmen.”

Before the secretary was through, Ragoczy had risen from his place in the stands and tucked his pillow under his arm. He made his way down the narrow stairs to the ground, and started toward the cleared area where most of the automobiles were parked. As he walked, he saw Laisha ride away from the judges’ stand, her face set with infuriated humiliation. He called out to Roger as he neared the parking area. “Laisha’s ridden off toward the main road. Well have to follow her.”

“Ridden off? But what made…” Roger said as he pressed the ignition pedal, then fell silent as he moved aside to let Ragoczy enter the Isotta-Fraschini.

“The judges disqualified her ride because she took the water jump at an angle. It was an excuse, of course.” He was backing the automobile out of the parking area as he spoke, and the concentration he gave to driving did not distract from his indignation on Laisha’s behalf. As he reached the verge of the way, he turned the Isotta-Fraschini and then set out at a fast rate for the main road.

“How did she ride?” Roger asked as they rocked onto the newly-graded way.

“Beautifully.” Ragoczy smiled briefly. “She covered the course better than any of the others, and the judges knew it. They had to discount her, or give her the award, and that would not be a popular decision,” He held the steering wheel in an unwavering grip as the automobile took a tight curve on two tires.

“You warned her of that possibility, didn’t you?” Roger said, showing no concern for his master’s incautious driving.

“Yes. She’s not unaware of the difficulties we both face here. With Röhm’s SA about, some of the others are starting to feel brave again, and they say things they would not have dared to say a year ago.” The main road was visible now through the trees, and Ragoczy, showing a moment of prudence, reduced his speed before turning onto the crudely-paved surface. “She is on the Flusslauf Schweif. That’s about two kilometers farther along.”

“She might already have crossed,” Roger pointed out.

“She might. But I am counting on Babieca being tired after the ride. Laisha might not care what she does to herself, but she will have a care for her horse.” He reduced his speed still more and at last drew the automobile up on the shoulder of the road and set the brake. He got out and went to the place where the well-kept equestrian path emerged from the trees. A close, swift study of the ground showed that many horses had come that way recently, but all were going toward the competition area rather than away from it. He had reached the place ahead of her. With a greater sense of confidence, he went back to the automobile. “We’re in time. I’ll keep watch for her.” Roger gave a turn to his hand to show that he understood, while Ragoczy went back to the Flusslauf Schweif to wait.

It was not quite five minutes later that he heard the sound of an approaching horse. The animal was trotting without much enthusiasm, and as the mare rounded the bend and came into sight, Ragoczy heard her slow to a walk. As he watched, he saw Laisha slump in the saddle. She was capless now, and her hair flew in disordered strands around her face, and there was a scratch along her cheek where a branch had lashed her during her mad plunge away from the competition area.

Ragoczy stepped into the middle of the path and waited as horse and rider approached.

When Laisha saw a figure emerge from the shadows, she gathered up her reins, prepared to ride over the stranger. She had no intention of being caught alone here. Then she recognized Ragoczy and for an instant her courage almost failed her. She wanted to turn and run, but that would complete her humiliation, and so she held Babieca firmly and let the mare walk up to the man in black.

“Laisha,” he said as he raced up to catch the reins. He patted the mare’s neck where it was dark with sweat, and heard her heavy breathing.

“I’m sorry,” she forced herself to say.

“Sorry?” Ragoczy was so startled that he said the word sharply.