Page 65 of Thief of Hearts

We would all be started at different times based on our location so that we would reach the starting line together.

My two yoke horses were tossing their heads, eager to be off. They knew what was coming.

Silence fell over the stadium and it was almost eerie. My breathing sounded loud and harsh and I tried to calm myself down. I had to remain in control. It didn’t matter that I was battle-favored. This was not a race of strength. I would be solely dependent on my horses, which were the same caliber as everyone else’s.

I saw a white linen drop to the track up ahead of us. The race had begun. I heard the first chariot set out, the second, the third.

Gates continued to drop and drivers called out to their horses, who responded by pounding away at the track.

My heart thudded and I found myself slightly shifting from side to side as I got ready for my turn. My grip on the reins tightened.

The gate dropped.

I urged my team forward.

“Go!”

Chapter Twenty

The horses nearly ripped my arms out of their sockets. Handling four horses was like trying to harness lightning and make it follow my directions. Each horse had the power of a hundred men, and when they pulled together—I had severely underestimated how difficult this would be.

Wind whipped against my face and I was glad I’d braided my hair. I yelled to the horses again as we thundered down the straightaway. My only thought was to reach the starting line as quickly as possible so that I could gain the inside track. The last person to launch was currently situated in front of it. I wanted to beat him and claim the inner line for myself.

One of my yoke horses nearly stumbled but quickly regained their momentum and carried on. It again reminded me how much depended on them and not on me.

Being battle-favored did give me some advantages—I was agile and had perfect balance. It made me strong enough to hang on to the reins. I was glad the horses seemed to know what they were doing because we were so close to other chariots that our wheels nearly touched.

Just as I reached the starting line, the driver I had wanted to beat launched forward. I cursed and headed his direction. I felt every bump and sway on the track and adjusted accordingly.

When I heard the whistling of a javelin, it didn’t surprise me. I ducked out of the way. One of the competitors had thrown it at me—I wasn’t sure which. It didn’t really matter—I was going to focus on the race while they apparently focused on me. It would be to their detriment. This was not a place to get distracted.

Which was why I did not permit any thoughts of Zain to enter my mind. He could handle himself.

I called to the horses again, urging them to go faster. I just barely got onto the inner track in front of the last chariot. I had done it. I was first!

But this was the easy part. The first real hardship would come at the turning point. That was where most accidents happened.

When we reached that midpoint, I pulled hard at the flank horse on my left. He got the message and banked into the sharp left-hand turn as we continued to run at a breakneck speed, passing within a hairbreadth of the stone pillar situated there.

Pulling us out of danger.

I heard the sounds of chariots slamming into the wall behind me, the cries of the men who had been injured. How many wrecks had just happened? How many drivers remained?

I could hear the stampeding hooves of the horses right behind me. I didn’t dare turn my head to see what they were doing, but my instincts warned me that there was a plan in place to stop me by any means necessary.

Using the high-pitched whistle my mother favored had the desired effect on the horses and they pulled me away from the men closing in on us. We shot down the track until it was time for the next sharp left turn. I leaned with the horses as they once again took the corner perfectly.

It was then that I noticed two chariots in front of me. They were racing, but not quickly. They had hung back.

Because they had been waiting for me. When they spotted me, they sped up. I saw that they intended to box me in, and who knew what they were planning once they had trapped me.

I wouldn’t give them the chance to execute their plan.

Urging my horses even closer to the inner track, I positioned myself on the outside of the man on the left. I would force him to the right.

He turned and snapped his whip at me. I grabbed the end before it could strike my body and then pulled with all my might. The driver went flying, and his horses turned right into the other chariot, knocking it over.

The chaos of it would affect the other drivers. They would have to navigate around that mess. That hadn’t been my intent—I’d only meant to protect myself.