Rise of the Wolf
Finally, I sacrificed my shoulder enough to raise my other hand and cut the rein. Then I immediately rolled toward the spine, out of the way of the chariot directly behind me. It still wasn't safe on this part of the track, particularly from the other horses. To be safe, I needed to climb onto the spine itself. Better yet, get to the outer track where I could reach the stands, but I'd never make it that far alive, especially not the way I was feeling. My shoulder was shredded and raw, and my arms weren't much better. But more than any pain in my body was the heat in my chest. I was furious.
I hadn't used magic for the race, though considering what they'd just done, I would have been more than justified in doing so. But I did use it now, letting the Divine Star work through me to heal the skin and repair the muscles.
While I healed, I forced myself to climb onto the small platform to rest. The farthest I could go was to the tall obelisk in the center, where I leaned back facing a statue of Apollo with his chariot being pulled by a griffin. Pulled by Caela, I supposed. The expression carved into Apollo's marble face mocked me, now that I had to race with horses instead of his noble animal.
A few slaves assigned to the circus were there with me, but they left me alone. My team of horses had been safely led off the track, though I intended to check on them as soon as possible. I was still sitting there as the charioteer who challenged me finished his final lap. Every other chariot came in behind him, including the two teams with a second man. Technically, they had finished the race too.
I was the loser, of the race, and of our bet.
My shoulder was healed now, or close enough for me to run up to the winning charioteer, who was climbing off his chariot.
"You cheated!" I shouted.
"We gave ourselves an even chance!" he shouted back. "You had magic!"
Yes, and I certainly wanted to use it now. My fists were curled up tight, but not to hold the magic in. If he took a swing at me, I'd have something much bigger waiting for him.
I only stood as tall as his shoulders, and he used the advantage of height to get close to me and look down.
"I know all about you," he sneered. "You dress like the patricians and walk amongst them, but you're not one of them and never will be. You're nothing but a runaway slave who should have been whipped, branded, and sent back to the mines where you belong. If it hadn't been for your grandfather, the emperor would've executed you by now, instead of allowing you to race in the finest circus of Rome. You don't belong here, Nicolas Calva."
Magic was gathering in my hands, so much that I could barely keep my fists clenched. If he understood how much power was in even the tips of my fingers, he never would've spoken that way to me. But that was the exact reason I needed to control myself now. Because I had powers he couldn't begin to comprehend. And the will to control them.
I knew I could call in a storm -- though lightning made me nervous, it was a good way to use the excess magic without causing any destruction. And if I focused it into the smallest possible storm ... well, that could be fun.
I looked up as a small and very dark rain cloud formed overhead. "Celebrate your win," I said with a grin. "You have my congratulations. Now if you'll excuse me, I have some stables to muck out."
And I turned on my heel as thunder cracked overhead. Well, over his head. Mine was fine.
A rainstorm was pouring down on him right now, only him, and would last until the cloud I'd called in had given up all its water. Whenever that was.
I whistled happily as I headed toward the stables.
I was on my third stall by the time Radulf showed up. He was holding a small bag that jingled when he shook it at me. The money he had won.
"You bet on my losing?" I asked.
"I saw the way they talked before you were challenged to race. They were huddled together and pointing to one another. I'm a military man, Nic -- it's not hard to see when trouble is coming. I knew they had a plan."
"You might've told me."
"So you're listening to me now? Respecting anything I have to say?" When I only growled and went back to work, he leaned against one of the stalls and frowned down at me. "You never should've accepted that challenge. You deserved what came to you."
Yes, I knew that. They had intended that exact trick from the beginning, and used my foolish pride against me.
"Do you think there weren't Praetors who saw that?" he asked. "Who don't know that all they must do is taunt you a little and you'll play into their hands every time?"
"I didn't play into their hands, Radulf. I was winning that race."
"Yes, you raced exceptionally well, better than I would have expected, in fact. In a fair world, you'd be celebrating a win right now. But you can't possibly believe the Praetors are going to be fair with you, not when the stakes are so high. If you want to win, then two days from now, you must give yourself every advantage." His eye fell to the bulla around my neck.
I grabbed the bulla and shoved it beneath my tunic. "I don't expect fairness, but I won't cheat either. When I win, it'll be a victory that I earned, one that belongs to me."
"Then you have a difficult job ahead." Radulf's tone showed his growing impatience. "Enough of this. You know a faster way to finish this work."
I did and I'd already thought about that, but I continued pulling out the old hay. "I earned this loss. I'll clean them myself."
"Then there is only so much I can do to help you." I knew what he meant, and it involved far more than these stables. He left without another word.
By the tenth stall, I was feeling less stubborn than before. Yes, it was my fault for being goaded into the race, but I had already paid for that by being dragged through the dirt. I didn't need to clean any further.
I removed the bulla and set it at my feet before continuing. With too much magic, I risked exploding the stables -- highly undesirable -- and besides, I wanted to practice with the Divine Star. Then I stood back from the stables, raised my arms out wide, and sent magic to every stall for which I was responsible. They spewed out their waste and old hay like vomit, and it was no small thing to avoid being hit.
It tired me, but less than before. My strength for performing magic was returning again. It was better than ever, though, because I was less dependent on the bulla than when I'd first taken it.
I stood back to admire my handiwork and felt only a twinge of regret that I hadn't done this earlier. Or admittedly, I felt a lot of regret. This hadn't been the best use of my time. Not when so much was required of me over the next couple of days.
With my remaining magic, I attempted another trick of light, similar to what Radulf could do. Back when he and I had fought outside the catacombs, he had tricked me by making me believe Livia was there too. He claimed it wasn't difficult magic, though I'd always felt he only said that to insult me. Nevertheless, I needed to be able to do it.
I chose to practice with Aurelia's image. Not only because it was easy to picture her, but because if I made a mistake and actually brought her here, that wouldn't be such a bad thing.
I raised my hands and let everything fade around me except for the empty space of air where I wanted her to be. I saw Aurelia in my mind as clearly as if she was right in front of me. I pictured her chestnut hair, not the fancy braids given to her by the servants in her father's house, but the simpler look of wearing it straight down her back. Next came her eyes, constantly on fire for whatever I'd done lately to irritate her, and the compassion and caring that lay deeper within them. I saw her smile whenever she was truly happy. If there was magic in the mark on my shoulder, then there was magic in her smile as well. It was different, but in many ways far more powerful.
Slowly she faded into view, almost. It wasn't her, but it was very close, and if a person didn't look too carefully --
Footsteps sounded behind me, and I leapt for the bulla and quickly put it on again. I glanced back at where the image of Aurelia had stood, but nothing remained. An instinctive rush of magic passed through me, but it wasn't necessary.
A few of the red faction charioteers had come. We were all on the same side of any race. Or at least, we had been until now. They didn't look particularly happy.
The strongest of our drivers was Theon, a Greek who fought whenever Radulf called him into battle and who had allowed me to ride with the red faction. He let me race with them, but that didn't mean Theon liked me.
"I've just been told that Radulf has entered you in the first race for the Ludi Romani," Theon said.
I didn't like the tone of his voice, but still I nodded.
Theon exchanged unfriendly looks with the other charioteers. There were many races throughout the year, but the first race of the Ludi Romani was considered prestigious. If Emperor Florian had been in Rome, he would've presided here, along with attendance from foreign guests, high officials, and a quarter million other Romans who'd been waiting all year for this event. Every charioteer wanted to ride it, and Radulf had just given me one of the three slots our faction was allowed.
"If General Radulf wants you to race, then there isn't much I can do about that," Theon said. "But you won't ride with a red tunic."
"I have to!" I protested. Ultimately, each charioteer raced for himself, and he alone took the winnings of his race. But the factions were also there to help one another and to protect against abuses of the rules, such as what had just happened to me with the whip in the practice race. Whoever the Praetors chose as my opponent, he would have a faction determined to stop me. For my own protection, I needed to ride with a faction too.
"You race for yourself, and for yourself alone." Theon's eyes narrowed. "From what I'm told, you'll be racing for your life."
"I race for Rome," I said. "Because if I lose, then everyone loses."
Theon chuckled and stepped toward me again. "Why is that, magic boy? You wave your hand and destroy whatever you want, then look around for people to cheer you for it, as if you've served this empire."
I wanted to wave magic toward him right now, that was certain. But I held it in, and held my place.
"Let me ride with a red tunic," I said. "When I win, the red faction can take my earnings. I don't want them."
Theon scowled, then rushed forward and shoved me against a stall door with his forearm butted against my neck. I gasped for air and grabbed his arm to buy some breath, but I wouldn't do anything more. These were my own teammates, or were supposed to be.
"Do you think we care about the earnings?" Theon asked. "We care about our lives, Nic. You have some powerful enemies, and it's not worth their threats to keep you in our faction."
"Who threatened you?" I asked, though I already knew the answer. Brutus was obviously behind this.
"It doesn't matter; you're not one of us anymore," Theon said. "If you show up at the circus with so much as a red thread woven into your cloak, I will make it my purpose to end your race on the first lap. What happened to you earlier today will be nothing compared to what I'll do."
I needed air, so I kicked him, and though he released me, he also swung back and connected his fist to my eye. I reeled backward while stars appeared in my vision, and shook my hands to release some of the pressure of the magic.
The rest of the team took that as a sign I was intending to fight and rushed at me. I raised a shield long enough to say, "I'm sorry they threatened you. I'm truly sorry for that."
Then I closed my eyes and pictured Radulf's home, though in the moment all I could see was the small pool in his atrium. I let the magic grow in me until I could feel the pool's water, and my feet on the tile floor, and the smell of the sweetbreads Radulf was so fond of eating.
The fire light for the stables dimmed in my vision.
"What's he doing?" Theon asked.
I never heard their answer. For only seconds later, I opened my eyes inside Radulf's atrium. It was the first time I'd successfully accomplished this trick, and Radulf was right. It was easier than I had thought.
Livia must've been nearby at the time and hurried over to me. "Nic?" When I turned to her, she gasped. "Your eye!"
I touched it gingerly, though I already knew it was beginning to swell. "Don't tell Radulf," I whispered. "I can heal it."
"Don't tell me what?" Radulf said behind me.
I remained facing away from him and said, "I learned to disappear. That's how I got here just now."
"You should've known that trick the day you got the mark. What do you not want to tell me?" He was in front of me now. "Look at me when I'm speaking!"
I looked up, and he grabbed my face to see my eye better. "What happened? Was it the Praetors?"
"No."
"Then who?"
I stared back at him. "It was nothing."
He grinned. "Well, if someone did that to you, I can only imagine how they looked once you gave them a taste of magic."
"I didn't do anything to them. I disappeared here instead."
"You left the fight?" Radulf's disappointment was evident. "Why? With all you can do --"
"I left because of all I can do!"
"The grandson of a general would never abandon a fight. He would finish it and leave his opponents begging for mercy."
"Then don't consider me your grandson anymore," I said. "Our magic should build Rome, not destroy it. Otherwise, it's just a curse."
Radulf grabbed my arm. "This empire was cursed long before you set foot in it. Do not forget what the Romans did to our family. Your father would still be alive if it weren't for them. Destroying the empire is the only way to remove the curse. And for that, you will use your magic to help me bring down this empire."
"And what must I face if this empire falls? You?" I yanked my arm from his grasp and began leading Livia away with me. "I will not use magic for you!" I shouted as we left.
And that should've been the end of it, but in the quiet that followed my shouting, I heard him say, "Yes, Nic, you will."
I did another practice race the following morning, though it wasn't organized with any other competitors. They went at whatever pace they wanted, and I went a bit faster. My goal was to become more comfortable with Radulf's horses and to build up speed with them. For the most part, I was succeeding. They were the finest team of stallions that money could buy; no one could doubt that. And despite my relative lack of experience as a charioteer, I was becoming confident that I had at least some chance of winning tomorrow.
That is, until I sat in the stands at lunch -- alone this time -- and watched another competitor, one who regularly rode for the green faction. Gamblers around me were discussing the number of racing records he had won and which records he was expected to beat. Also, who he was expected to beat. I heard my name mentioned more than once. Or rather, they talked about "that runaway slave the empire won't execute like they should." I figured it was safe to assume they meant me.
"That green charioteer is not even the best we'll see," Radulf said a few minutes later as he came to sit beside me. I hadn't known he was here and definitely hadn't expected him. He brought some bread and a cup of ale that he knew I liked. It was his form of an apology perhaps. But taking the food wasn't my way of accepting his apology. I was just hungry.
Radulf gestured to the charioteer. "His faction will probably choose him for the first race tomorrow, and he'll do well. But the finest charioteers aren't here to practice this week. They don't need to."
I set my jaw forward. "Why are you here, Radulf?"
"I raised my son to be a warrior. How did he give me a grandson who speaks of compassion and service to an empire that wants to destroy him?"
"Stop calling me your grandson. I don't want your help."
"No, but you need it. You rode well this morning. I liked your confidence on the track."
I wished I were still feeling it now. Maybe I was better on the track than before, but if Radulf was right, then I'd only done well enough to come in ahead of charioteers who probably wouldn't qualify for tomorrow's race anyway.
"Your horses are strong and experienced," Radulf said. "Trust them. And I wil
l speak to Theon and the other members of the red faction who'll race with you tomorrow. They'll help you."
No, they wouldn't. I didn't know how the Praetors had threatened them, but they were frightened last night. Radulf didn't know that.
He said, "With enough gold in their pockets, your faction will take care of your competition."
"Just as those charioteers took care of me in yesterday's race?" I asked. "You'd have me win by cheating?"
"I'd have you win any way you can!"
I stood and threw down the rest of my lunch. "If it's not an honest win, then it's a loss. I won't cheat, even for this."
"If you lose --"
"Then we both lose, I know." I sighed, but continued staring directly into his eyes. "Did you only care about my father for the way you could use him too?"
Radulf recoiled as if my words had hit him. "Your father was everything to me!"
I shrugged, feeling almost numb. "And my family was everything to him." Then I turned on my heel to leave.
"Where are you going?"
I didn't know. The pressure on my chest felt like thousands of weights had dropped on me, and everything Radulf said made it worse. Once I found a place to be alone, I made myself disappear back to Radulf's home.
Livia was there, as she usually was, this time with Callistus as he ran in circles around her in the small courtyard.
"What are you doing back here so early?" she asked. Though she was still looking at Callistus, I saw her brows press together. "Is everything all right?"
I faked a smile. "Of course." Livia glanced at me. She looked as tired as I felt, so I knew she wasn't sleeping well. I didn't want to make her worries any worse than they already were.
She turned her attention back to Callistus, who had come to rest at her side. "Just before you came, I was thinking how much I'm like this unicorn," she said.