Chapter 6: Racing
On the first day of competition, the barn always hummed with excitement. Horses tossed their heads or shifted in their stalls, and grooms hurried about with more sense of purpose. Riders joked and shouted in louder voices than usual.
Neste, clad in her blue and silver tunic, imagined Elen putting on Morgan’s green and gold. She paced in front of Llawen’s stall as Isabella burnished the mare’s coat with every brush the barn owned. Blue and silver ribbons hung from the reins, and a blue and silver blanket lay under the beribboned saddle.
Neste trembled with excited nerves as she finally swung up to Llawen’s back. The competition opened with her short race this morning. It had surprised her last night when Elen said the judges favored Llawen in the short race. Neste hadn’t even considered a victory of her own. Her entire focus had been on tomorrow’s group dance. Elen’s words echoed in her head and made her nervous.
“Go well, milady,” Isabella said as she patted Llawen’s neck. “I’ll have a molasses treat waiting for our racer.”
“Diolch, I will,” Neste promised the groom with a tremulous smile.
Other riders prepared for their own events and called good wishes to her. Those that didn’t have events today would cheer for the other riders from Marc’s barn and shout encouragement. The camaraderie bolstered Neste.
Hoel came to see her off. “Your mare is the picture of good health and you fly her well. Go out and do me proud.” He beamed at her, and she carried that smile in her heart as she moved toward the takeoff area.
She took off with no interference, the only rider from Marc’s barn in this race. The cool morning caressed her as she directed Llawen to the start. Only racers were in the air since it was still fairly early. Riders liked to warm up their horses, but they didn’t like to distract spectators from the main event.
As Neste flew over the center of Tremeirchson, she looked down on the spectators from town and from outlying areas that lined the streets and covered the fountain. Colorful tents of merchants from as far away as Merioneth ringed the fountain. It looked like they were already doing a brisk business. The judges’ tents billowed in the breeze, and benches waited for the band that would play for the afternoon dances. The normality of it all calmed Neste. She had enough experience to stay in control.
Just five horses circled near the start. She waved to Beka from a small barn near Marc’s. An experienced rider, Beka’s mare wasn’t as quick as she’d been in her youth. Alis, a new rider for Morgan, sat stiffly between her mount’s wings. Neste nodded to her. Neste spotted Robert, an experienced rider completely focused on the race. Then she saw her brother. They would compete against each other in the first event! Aidan’s horse, draped in scarlet and gold, looked fresh and eager. Aidan sat her well. Neste tried to fly closer to wish her brother luck, but he turned away. To Rhiannon with his stubborn pride!
A trumpet shattered the stillness and Neste’s heart leaped. She and the other racers stopped circling and flew toward tall poles tipped with red flags. Aidan stayed well away from his sister. Evenly aligned, the five racers crossed the line marked by the flags. Then the race began.
Llawen’s chest and shoulders heaved as she increased speed. Neste curled low over her neck and almost disappeared between the upswept silver wings on either side of her. Isabella had plaited the dark gray mane to keep it out of Neste’s eyes. She sighted along the mare’s neck, her eyes at the same elevation as Llawen’s. Neste’s legs gripped the horse so they wouldn’t interfere with powerful wingstrokes.
Alis and Beka fell behind early, out of Neste’s focus. Aidan pulled up next to her. His cream-colored mare flew strongly. Neste turned to look over Llawen’s neck. Robert rode a length behind her, his horse’s nose whipped by Llawen’s tail. Neste urged her mare to greater speed as she approached the finish line, marked much like the start. She told herself just another competitor threatened her lead, not her brother. With tremendous effort, Llawen pulled ahead.
Aidan stayed with her though, and his mare stretched her neck as far as she could. She was a valiant little thing, dainty but strong. Her wings beat faster than Llawen’s. Just before the finish, Aidan urged her forward. They shot past Llawen to beat her by a nose.
Disappointment and exhilaration shot through Neste. Marc wouldn’t be thrilled with a second place finish, but he wouldn’t yell. And her brother had won his first race ever! What a great start to the Games for him. She almost burst with pride as she heard the cheers erupt from the crowd. She joined Alis, Beka, and Robert as they waved to acknowledge Aidan’s victory. He didn’t respond with his own wave, a show of good sportsmanship that Aidan’s barn leader would have to teach him. Neste patted her horse’s sweaty gray neck and circled over her barn. She watched a smiling official drape a wreath of flowers over Aidan’s mare. His horse swiveled her ears and snorted.
“Congratulations, my boy,” the judge announced in a stentorian voice. “First points of the Games awarded to Stefan’s barn.”
Aidan bowed his head and thanked the judge very professionally. He galloped into a takeoff and turned the mare into a victory loop that flew low in front of the crowd.
Neste landed near her barn, but no riders ran to greet her. She dismounted and removed her helmet. Her braid swung free. Isabella ran up to take Llawen’s rein and give her a molasses treat. Marc waited by the barn door. Neste approached slowly. The barn leader put a sympathetic hand on Neste’s shoulder. “It’s all right, Neste. We can’t win them all, and a second place finish is nothing to be ashamed of.”
“Did you see it was Aidan who won?” she asked. She smiled with pride in spite of her defeat.
“Na, I didn’t. Good for him!”
Neste’s disappointment took over. “I’m so sorry, Marc. Maybe I didn’t work as hard as I should have to prepare for this one. We spent so much time on the group dance…”
“I know, I know. And you spent a lot of time working with Adam, which I appreciate. We’ll just have to win that dance tomorrow. Without that victory, we have no chance to beat Morgan.”
“Yes, syr, I will fly my best.”
She entered the barn and let the dimness soothe her. Hoel waited outside Llawen’s stall. Inside, Neste could hear Isabella as she cooed to the mare and brushed the sweat out of her coat.
“I’m so sorry,” Neste said to Hoel.
He took her in his arms. “I really wish you’d won the race. There’s a lot of pressure on us now for the dance tomorrow.”
“I know, Hoel, and I’m so sorry.” She tried to keep tears out of her voice.
He took a deep breath. “It’s all right. We have worked hard to perfect the most spellbinding dance ever performed. Of course we’ll win. Join me for dinner at midday?”
“Of course.”
“Do you want to watch the rest of the races with me?”
He was trying to be nice. She smiled, but shook her head. “Na, I’d rather be alone.”
He shrugged and joined the riders who stood along the edge of the cliff, the perfect vantage point to watch the races. Neste couldn’t join in as they bantered and cheered. She didn’t want her loss to plunge her into despair, but she couldn’t laugh and joke with the others, either. She walked up the grassy hill and tried to find a spot to watch the rest of the races. A handful of riders from other barns had claimed most of the open space. She was just about to give up and return to the barn when she spotted Adam waving at her.
“Over here, Neste!” He smiled and beckoned.
“Coming!” She skirted a group of riders clad in black and joined Adam. “Oh, you have a good view!”
Adam, however, was not looking at the view. “Neste, I’m so proud of your placement in the race!”
Confused, Neste searched his shining eyes. “I didn’t win.”
“But you placed second! You certainly didn’t lose.”
His grin was infectious, and she laughed. Second place might be better than Adam had ever achieved. He was proud of her.
Her heart sang. “Oh, Adam, I appreciate your support so much.”
“Na, Neste, thanks for your support. It means so much to me!” To her surprise, Adam enveloped her in a hug that almost prevented her from drawing breath. It also started a tingle inside her. Adam drew away and smiled at her with such warmth in his eyes Neste drew a ragged breath. Even the thought of Hoel’s frown couldn’t erase the pleasure Adam’s hug gave her.
The spell was broken as the group around them shifted and riders from other barns came by to commiserate with her, shaking their heads over the close loss. She smiled and bragged about her brother’s first victory. The others laughed and agreed that if you had to lose a race, it was best to lose to a family member.
The rest of the morning passed in a blur of cheering and good-natured teasing. Two of Marc’s riders won their races, and Neste was hoarse from screaming by the time she finally left the warm place next to Adam and walked down the hill. On the way, she unwound her braid and fluffed her hair with her fingers until it fell in tousled waves over her shoulders. Humming and smiling, she headed for the tavern in town.
Inside, a fire blazed in the hearth and people chatted in excited conversations at the tables. Townspeople, barn people, and patrons mingled here. Everyone came here for ale, simple food, and companionship. Hoel waited for her at a table in the back, no smile on his face. As she slipped into place beside him on the wooden bench, he lifted his mug of ale in salute.
The bar maid brought a mug of ale for Neste, then returned with a platter of sliced cheese and a meat pie.
“To victory tomorrow,” Hoel said, serving her some pie.
“Let’s drink to Aidan’s victory today,” she suggested.
He shrugged. “Good for him. He did well in his first race.” He sipped his ale. “Two wins this morning in other races helped encourage the barn.”
Neste nodded. “Phelip and Catrin raced well.”
“The mid-length races have always been our strong point, so we should do well tomorrow morning. With strong riders in the endurance races later in the week, we are in a good position. If we win the group dance tomorrow, we should have enough points to beat Morgan.”
“I’ll be glad to contribute to the barn’s success and erase the stain of today’s loss.” She took a bite of the savory pie and searched Hoel’s eyes. “Have you decided if you’ll let Adam ride?”
Hoel hesitated. Neste leaned across the table and clutched his hand.
“Please, cariad, I know he can do it.”
“It’s against my better judgment, but I’ll trust you. He’ll fly.”
“Oh, diolch!” Neste let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. “You won’t regret it. He’ll get stronger and stronger.”
“This year is a foundation,” Hoel said, leaning toward her. “We will all get stronger, creating a barn that will dominate the Games for years to come.”
He continued to speak of the horses he would breed to develop dancers and racers, but Neste’s attention wandered. Hoel’s dark eyes illuminated his words. Dreams of greatness wreathed his face in passionate excitement. This was the Hoel she loved, the visionary. When he came down off his cloud, though, he sometimes had trouble getting others to climb up there with him.
He paused for breath, and she put her hand on his arm. “You have wondrous plans for the barn, cariad.”
His excitement dimmed. “It’s such a long way off, though.”
“You’ll get there. It’s a goal worth working for.”
“I know, Neste, I know. But my father thwarts me. If he would just stand down, I know I could lead the barn to greatness.”
“It’s hard to wait, but you must.”
“Thank Rhiannon I have you.” He looked at her with warmth and love.
They ate their food and sipped their ale while Hoel planned the barn’s future. Neste basked in his love and approval. She wanted to order more food to prolong the moment, but she had to find a place to watch Elen’s pairs dance. When they finished eating, Hoel and Neste walked back to the barn together.
At the door, Hoel took his leave. “We have two pairs in the dances this afternoon. I’d better go make sure they are ready.”
Neste waved him away with a smile. She walked around the barn and headed back up the grassy hill. A few horses soared lazily over the barns. Competition would resume with the pairs dance. Neste settled herself on the grass to watch. Other riders gathered on the hill, but this time she preferred to be alone.
A trumpet fanfare announced the beginning of the dances, and the sky emptied. The first pair took their positions, and the band began to play. Neste knew more about the timing required in a group dance than the grace required of a pairs dance. Nonetheless, she knew this first pair flew pretty rough.
Four pairs flew their routines before Morgan and Elen took their places in the air. Neste cheered for her friend even though she knew Elen couldn’t hear her. As the music started, Neste clasped her hands to her face and held her breath. Almost immediately, the dance enthralled her. So caught up in the beauty of the movement, she almost forgot it was her friend up there. The two horses flew as if they belonged together, part of the same being. Neste held her breath in wonder. When the last note faded away down the valley, tears of joy splashed from Neste’s eyes.
It didn’t matter what the next pair did, Neste could only see Morgan and Elen. After all the dancers had performed, the sky cleared. Neste pictured the judges in their tent as they compared scores and argued points. Sometimes it took a long time to declare a winner. Not today, though. In a matter of minutes, Morgan and Elen took to the sky with victory wreaths around their horses’ necks. Neste clapped her hands in delight. Tonight they would celebrate Elen’s victory!
Wings Over Tremeirchson Page 11