XLIII. BENEATH THE STANDS

  “They could kill you for that.” Nia whispered. Lero’s fingers paused on the clasps of his golden cape. Her brother's amber eyes locked on hers. “Nia. They are going to kill us either way.”

  Tight gates sealed the thoughts threatening to burst from her skull. “Do we have any water?” Lero pointed over to the jug, frowning when Nia gulped down half its contents. The other Ker riders eyed them nervously as legionnaires came round to each team. Nia wore the same purple cape that they did. Having it on felt like a betrayal, like she was a piece of property.

  Lero stepped into the basket of their shared chariot. Nia ran the back of her hand along Ajaxi’s flank before accepting Lero’s hand up. Their four horses were as agitated as they were.

  A legionnaire approached. Nia accepted the padded leather helmet and put it overhead. The soldier tightened the straps of Nia’s bronze armbands to the point they pierced her skin red. He then tied the horses reins around their reins, effectively binding them to the basket. “Knife.” The legionnaire grunted, handing her a short blade. Nia sheathed it at her waist.

  The legionnaire moved on to the next team. There were seven in total. THemselves; Tho-Kai and Seta-Kai; the Jax’s, the Fi’s sons; and two terrified looking teenagers fresh out of the quarry in De-Urs. Two of the Conqueror’s centori had been chosen to stand in for De-Anu. Finally, the royals made up the seventh team.

  “Ten Houses, One People.” Lero whispered to himself like a fervent prayer. “Ten Houses, One People.”

  “The Ashenians must win!” Harp-Fi hissed from the stall next to theres.

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  Lero turned to harp-Fi. “Today, I am riding for those who remain.”

  Deathly pale, Harp-Fi nodded. “Goddess guide you.”

  “You as well, brother.”

  “SEND THEM OUT!”

  The legionnaires ushered the riders out from the tunnel and into the hippodrome. The stands bellowed at their arrival. Nia gasped at the crowds— never in her life had she seen so many people. Their individual cheers melding into one dull, cacophonous roar. In the middle of the hippodrome, a plum canopy had been erected on the raised platform that separated the race track. Underneath was a collection of sun chairs, rugs, and couches. Servants with long poles topped with ostrich feathers circulated the languid breeze. Nia found her family. Cythe played at the sight of Lero’s cape.

  Their chariots fanned out on the starting line. An Ashenian called out the teams. Asho Ashen Ashiphiex waved a leather glove as his titles were hurled into the air. The legionnaires cheered and stomped their feet. “Admrilia Hortus Ashiphiex; Argenti of the Silver Islands; Captain of the First Neptor; Stormlord Chosen—”

  Nia clenched and unclenched her hands on the reins as the announcer finished. “Charioteers! The first one to cross the finish line seven times will be the victor. May you bring honor to the Ashenian Empire today.” The announcer kissed his knuckles and extended them to the canopy. Nia followed along with the thousands of others. Lero stood beside her, staring straight ahead.

  THe Conqueror rose from his sun chair. He was the picture of tranquility as he strolled to the edge of the canopy so he was in the eyeline of the riders. Nia’s stomach tightened in knots as the Conqueror took each team in turn.

  “Ten Houses, One People.” Lero whispered as the eyes of the god fell on them.

  The anticipation simmered in the sweltering heat. The Conqueror lifted his hand high in the air and dropped the purple handkerchief.