DragonKnight - Donita K. Paul [28]
He heard a rider shout behind him, and a torrent of loose rock pelted them. Something whapped them from behind. Ten pitched forward and rolled. Bardon fell from the saddle and tumbled beside the kindia. They stopped at a broad ledge littered with crumbled shale and granite gravel.
Bardon sat up and shook his head. Ten stood prancing, as if to say, “Come on.” The two riders who’d been ahead of them were down, as well as two more who must have been directly behind. The men staggered to their feet, brushed the dust from their faces, and ran to jump in the saddles. Bardon left the lower ridge in second place.
At the bottom, they zigged and zagged and hopped through the pile of rocks that had tumbled from the mountain. Bardon sighed his relief when they hit the riverbed, then realized how hard Ten worked to gallop across the soft, dry sand. Even though trees lining the way provided shade, sweat soaked Bardon’s clothing, and lather flecked Ten’s coat. A kindia Bardon had not noticed managed to pass them.
When they climbed the embankment, the road they had raced down on the way out reappeared. The last leg of the race stretched before them.
“Well, Ten,” Bardon shouted behind the animal’s head. “Do you want to come in third or first?”
Ten extended his long neck. The muscles in his powerful shoulders moved in an accelerated rhythm under Bardon’s knees. They passed the second rider and came up on the right side of the leader.
A multitude of people lined the roadway. Their roar assaulted Bardon’s ears. The colors of clothing and waving pennants blurred in his side vision as he set his eyes on the red ribbon stretched across the finish line.
He leaned forward, shifting his weight to his lower legs. Crouching over the saddle instead of sitting in it, he finally found the rhythm that kept his bones from absorbing all the pounding. The distance between him and the leader of the race narrowed. He heard both animals gasping, and he felt Ten surge ahead. The second kindia pulled ahead and then fell back. The ribbon trailed from Ten’s ample chest as they crossed the finish line.
The contestants slowed and circled back to the front porch of the big house, cooling the animals. More riders came in, late but finishing. All six of the kindias Bardon and N’Rae had worked with completed the race.
The crowd pushed in on the circle of first runners. Bardon searched the faces until he spotted N’Rae with Granny Kye beside her. The mass of people made it impossible for them to come together. People jumped and cheered, laughed and pounded each other on the back.
The only one who didn’t look happy stood on the porch. Hoddack scowled at the people on his property. His eyes met Bardon’s, and the young squire saw trouble brewing.
10
CHOICES
Swinging his leg over the kindia’s neck, Bardon dismounted.
“I’ll take him,” said Ilex, removing the reins from the squire’s hand. “I’ve got a fine bed of hay, a bin of bossel, and clear water waiting for him in the barn. This boy is going to have a rubdown, too, and I’m going to sing him the songs my pa sang to me.”
Ilex patted Ten on the neck, reached up to scratch behind the animal’s ears, and led him off, chuckling to himself. Bardon watched as they pushed through the crowd, and the old farm worker greeted those eager to heap praises on the winner.
Bardon eased between mingling farmers and townspeople, edging his way to the porch. Hoddack pointed his finger at one of the revelers, a neatly dressed young marione with a thick thatch of slicked-down, golden hair. Hoddack hooked his finger in a “Come” gesture and pointed to the front door. Then the kindia breeder turned abruptly, signaling with a wave of his hand for Bardon to follow. He marched into his house without looking back to see if his silent commands were obeyed.
Now what?
Bardon’s boots thumped the wooden