Serpent and the Throne (Fedosian Wars #1)

16. Royal Cup

sixteen

Royal Cup

The race was four miles and two furlongs, completing two circuits around the course, Sofia had been told by the count who yammered on about it during their ride to the track. Two dozen fences, hurdles covered in green spruce, each with individual names like the Thorned Throne and the Elfurian Cliff, had varying difficulties.

Earlier, she had gone to the parade ring to wish Lev good luck. Still upset with her about last night, he ignored her. Besides, he was busy giving orders to his handlers rather than dilly-dallying and flirting with ladies like some of the other lords. He took this seriously.

The lords showed off their racehorses and chatted up the crowd. Aleksei had been bent over, something wrong with Snowstorm’s horseshoe, and he was the only one who didn’t have a flurry of handlers.

‘Good luck, Lord Aleksei,’ she’d said.

He’d looked up and smiled at her.

‘That’s a sentinel, not a lord. Don’t talk to people if you’re going to sound ignorant.’ The count had been with her.

Ania Illeivich told Daniil Chartorisky he was her favored rider, and he thanked her and kissed her hand to be polite, but his eyes were on Lev’s Rhytsar, glaring as though he and the horse had a vendetta to settle.

Elyena was in the race. Sofia was surprised to see a woman racing, but apparently the girl was a phenomenal rider who rivaled Lev. Also, she was the only child of Lord Durnov, had her father wrapped around her finger, and could get away with murder, or so said the gossip around the track.

Sofia was nervous. She’d borrowed Papa’s race glasses—he hadn’t wanted to come though his son was racing—and holding them to her eyes she studied the fences, again. Covered in greens, they looked like rows of bushes. Some were unreasonably tall, taller than the horses, some had a ditch on the landing side, others on the take off side, now filled with water because of the earlier rain, and one was even in the middle of a turn, and they frightened her.

The final stretch was a long flat terrain, which was good, but right before that was a choke point, the course narrowing to the point where the riders would be right on top of each other, and there were three fences in quick succession inside the choke.

She worried about Lev, worried about Aleksei, worried for the only woman riding, and at the same time tried not to think about how she would be leaving right afterward and wouldn’t have time to tell Aleksei.

Though Shield seats remained empty in the grandstand, the betting enclosure crawled with sentinels in plain attire, marked by the darksteel they carried even off duty.

The archmage was in attendance, surrounded by courtiers in colorful silk like a peacock among his peahens. He drank wine and told jokes by how the women were laughing, and Sofia saw him call Lev up to the stands to speak to him instead of going down to the ring like everyone else. Her seating was some distance from the archmage’s but she flicked her uncle a dirty look when he gave Lev wine. He’d asked Lev to sit, Sofia guessed, and her brother obliged, but looked incredibly agitated the entire time, fidgeting his leg.

Sofia was irritated as well. She’d wanted to be at the parade ring, down by the racecourse as everyone else was, but the count didn’t know anyone, felt himself a nuisance because no one was coming up to speak to him, and he’d opted to return to his seat, making Sofia accompany him.

Through her glasses, she spotted Zoya at the ring, speaking to Aleksei with her hand on his shoulder, and envied women whose families let them be free. Perhaps it would have been different had her father lived, but it was what it was.

Lev had escaped the archmage and was in the ring again, but when he came between Zoya and Aleksei and took a swing at Aleksei, Sofia realized her brother was drunk. Aleksei sidestepped him and Lev tumbled forward, making a damn scene. His friend Semyon came and collected him.

Sofia dropped the glasses to her lap and covered her face, taking a long inhale to calm down. Why did he drink? He’d been fine earlier.

“May I have that if you’re not using it?” She heard Ania, looked over her shoulder, and saw the girl standing behind her and pointing at the race glasses on Sofia’s lap.

“I’m using it,” Sofia said.

“Give it to her. It’s her first time at the race,” the count said.

She clutched her glasses. “It’s Papa’s.”

“And Lord Pyotr is not using it.” The count pried the glasses from Sofia, surprised she tried to hold onto them, and handed them to his daughter.

“You have glasses, Gavril Illeivich why not give your—”

The crowd stood and cheered. The riders were entering the course, probably, but Sofia couldn’t see and stood on her tiptoes to peer over the sea of hats, tall hairs, and feathers. Everyone settled down but now she couldn’t see because it was too far. A flare shot up, looked like alchemy, and the race started—probably—how was she going to see four miles away?

She watched people following the race, their glasses to their eyes, awing and clapping at something, till she got mad enough to get up and march down the aisle toward the Chartorisky seats by the finish line.

While she pulled up her cumbersome skirt and descended the many stairs in her wooden heeled slippers, someone grabbed her from behind, and she screamed. It hadn’t been violent, it’d just surprised her.

She spun around. The prince waved at her.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to frighten you. Is Aleksei winning?” The prince wore a plain cloak, the hood of which he’d pulled up, and Eugene was with him, also dressed plainly, and sighing with exhaustion.

“We don’t have any tickets because they were sold out,” the prince whispered. “Where are you going? Can I go with you?”

Sofia looked at his hands, he had on leather gloves, so she grabbed him and ran toward the finish line. Eugene followed. By how exhausted the sentinel was, Sofia imagined the prince barraged him for days till he agreed to bring him here.

“Don’t touch anyone. They wear prickly jewelry,” she managed to say, before doing the same thing to Zoya that the prince had done to her and grabbed her from behind.

Daniil was racing. Lord Chartorisky was by the finish line, on the ground, his entourage with him, and the Chartorisky seats were empty.

Zoya jolted, the glasses flying from her face, turned and saw Sofia and grimaced, but her eyes settled on the prince and grew wide. The prince had lowered his hood and it was his scarlet eyes and his likeness to Aleksei giving him away if one was keen, and Zoya certainly was.

“Is that?” she pulled Sofia and whispered in her ear.

“It is. Don’t get up. Don’t curtsy. He’s not supposed to be here,” Sofia said.

“Hello.” The prince sat down.

“Hello,” said Zoya, and while she batted her eyes at the heir apparent, Sofia yanked her glasses.

She heard the prince speaking with Zoya, and Eugene grunting at something, but that dropped to the background as she peered at the course through the glasses. The first she spotted were the riderless horses, a couple of them, and one was white. Hoping that wasn’t Rhytsar, she looked for Lev. Three dozen riders, various house colors, but she breathed a sigh of relief when she spotted her brother with a royal blue cloak, the golden sun crest on his back.

He’d been stumbling, so she’d worried he might have fallen off and got trampled, but he was fine, stalking the front pack. The two leaders were Aleksei and Elyena and her heart skipped a beat at the sight of him, and right behind them were Erik Vietinghoff and Daniil Chartorisky.

Green plumes sprayed in Elyena’s face as Snowstorm before her grazed the obstacle with his back hooves when he jumped over. Sofia worried Aleksei had done something wrong, but Elyena’s horse did the same thing, failing to clear the fence and clipping it with its hind legs.

She didn’t see what Erik or Daniil did because she hadn’t cared, but Rhytsar cleared that beautifully with space to spare, and that had been quite the jump with a ditch on the take-off side. She was proud of her little brother.

All noise in the arena had faded to distant grumblings, a continuous thing indistinguishable and unintelligible, till Zoya screamed right behind her, “Kill him, Danny! Kill him!” Not very ladylike, the shrillness in her voice was ear piercing.

Sofia looked back and saw the prince and Zoya, who had spare glasses apparently, following the race, but Eugene just sat there, squinting with his one good eye.

“You didn’t want to watch the race?” Sofia asked to be polite.

“I’d rather watch the people,” he said, scanning around. “I can see the course fine. Snowstorm is out of form, he’s about to get eaten by that white horse in fifth. A lot of the guys will be disappointed because there were a lot of bets on the captain.”

“Is Snowstorm tired?” the prince asked.

“He is, little one. Aleksei didn’t pace him right, either. That white horse is going to win. The rider knows it too. The kid is just playing around because he’s a smug bastard,” Eugene said.

That ‘white horse’ was Rhytsar, and Sofia felt conflicted about the analysis. She’d wanted Aleksei to win, though she didn’t know how Lev would handle the loss. She turned to the race as Zoya screamed, “Kill him, Danny! Kill him! Slaughter the swine boy!” The blonde’s fair face and neck had turned bright red.

Sofia raised the racing glasses to her eyes in time to see Daniil and Erik neck and neck, their horses pushing against one another, and Daniil Chartorisky whacked Erik’s horse on the hind leg with his riding crop when Erik tried to pass him, the horse jolted right as they came upon a turn and Erik ran over the white railing marking the edge of the course.

“Disqualified! Ha!” Zoya yelled.

Lev blew past Daniil entering the choke before the home stretch, locking the Chartorisky behind.

“Fucken Guard dick licker,” Sofia heard Zoya say. The blonde was turning out to be a foul mannered girl.

Rhytsar blitzed after Aleksei and Elyena, leaving Daniil in the dust, flying over the track, his hooves a white blur too fast to see. Sofia rooted for Aleksei and wished she was as free as Zoya to yell obscenities. All she could do was crumple her dress, the anxiety gripping her.

Rhytsar did not eat but swallowed the ground whole, gaining on Aleksei and Elyena at lightning speed. He was much, much, much faster than Snowstorm. Lev had been playing and that had been a mean spirited thing to do. Sofia wasn’t happy with him, and she wished she could be here to comfort Aleksei after the race. She also wished her brother would have been kind enough to let someone who would never race again win. He would have all the other cups, but he had to have this one too.

“Hello, that bush is glowing. Is it supposed to?” she heard the prince say and she dropped the glasses from her face and spun around.

The prince was pointing, and Eugene raised the racing glasses to his eyes, or just eye. “What bush?”

“The final fence of the narrow bit is glowing,” said the prince. “You don’t see that? I think it’s Guard magic.”

“Is Lev cheating?” was Zoya’s question.

Sofia turned to the track, looked through fences… and saw the final obstacle of the race, the third fence inside the choke glowing white, archmage’s light. No one would see that. The archmage bent light beyond the spectrum visible to the human eye. What the prince saw was the archmage’s use of magic, something Sofia thought only she could sense. Then again, the prince could see Uncle’s tenacles too.

What are you doing, Uncle?

Sofia looked back at the archmage, and he was speaking casually to a courtier, smiling, gesturing with his hand, gold ring on every finger. Maybe it was nothing. He was in charge of keeping the track green and soft for the cup though it was muddy and mucky everywhere else in Fedosia. She raised the glasses to her eyes again.

“I don’t see anything. Is Lev cheating?” Zoya yelled. To her, it made more sense Lev was cheating rather than he was simply better than Daniil, supposed Sofia.

“I see Guard magic on the final obstacle,” was the prince’s answer.

At the three fences in quick succession in the choke, the final obstacles before the home stretch, Snowstorm clipped the first, the horse tired. It was not enough to knock the fence over, but enough that spruce and birch flew everywhere, and the horse landed hard. Elyena jumped right after him, the two riders within touching distance of one another. Lev was on their tail, and Daniil chased him. Rhytsar jumped as though he had springboards on his hooves. The final stretch belonged to Rhytsar, and Lev knew that.

The second obstacle, all four riders cleared within a breath of one another.

The third fence had a ditch on the landing side. Snowstorm jumped, the front legs folding as the back propelled, becoming airborne, a spectacular mount tired or not, but as he flew over the hurdle the enchanted spruce covering the fence grew a vine arm and wrapped around the left front leg like a lasso. Though the vine broke off that frightened the horse, and Snowstorm landed hard on the edge of the ditch with his left front leg folded. His right gave and the horse fell forward, slamming Aleksei to the ground and rolling over him.

Snowstorm had veered right as he fell. Elyena collided with him, horse and rider diving into the ditch, and the girl got thrown off her saddle onto the track. Rhytsar jumped over her, because Lev saw them, but Daniil had been right behind Lev in the narrow, he didn’t see it, it’d been too fast anyway, and it looked like he ran over Elyena, the hooves trampling her head.

Daniil’s horse reared as he pulled the reins. He jumped off as soon as he realized and ran to Elyena, covering her as those behind piled up on one another, some clearing the fence and others running right through it. Those in the back had time to stop, but not everyone. Snowstorm was in everyone’s way, screaming, audible because the crowd had fallen silent; the horse had broken its leg, and it couldn’t get up.

“Aleksei!” Sofia flung the glasses and dashed down the steps. In her peripheral, she saw Eugene tackle the prince who’d sprung up. Her mind was in a frenzy and she couldn’t hear anything besides her drumming heart.

This was what drowning must feel like, disoriented, breathless, and senseless. Lev blew by her because she was on the racecourse. Her brother might have crossed the finish line but no one else did. He would have won anyway. The archmage had robbed him of his victory.

Sofia shoved sentinels, handlers, lords, whomever, out of the way. Aleksei had bashed into the ground with the full force of the jump and a thousand-pound creature had fallen on top of him.

Someone screamed bloody murder and it was Daniil, the fire haired Elyena limp in his arms. A thick man with the same red hair ran toward them, probably Lord Durnov, the blood drained out of his face.

“Aleksei!” Sofia saw him on the side of the track and ran to him. “Darling, are you all right?”

She held his face, he was dazed but looked all right, thank the saints.

“Oh fuck, my horse.” He got up, staggered, and Sofia caught him.

Snowstorm shrieked, trying to get up and failing, over and over, the brown eyes wide and the creature heaving, it was terrified.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Aleksei went to him and held his horse down so he wouldn’t keep hurting himself. “It’s all right, Snowstorm. It’s all right. You’re fine. You’re a good boy, you did fine.” The horse laid his head on Aleksei’s lap, calming down as he stroked his neck. “You’re a good boy, you’re fine.” Aleksei glided his hand over his muzzle. “What a good boy.” He pressed his palm between the horse’s eyes, on the light spot he had. It was his left, the one he wore his exoskeleton on. “You’re a good boy.” The alchemy on his vambrace glowed. Snowstorm jerked, then didn’t move any more.

“Fuck!” Aleksei screamed as he got up, the long spike sliding out of the horse’s head and dripping blood as the darksteel retracted into his hand. His eyes caught the awful red glow the watchmen had, the same one he had when he shivered in a tub of freezing water, hurting himself.

Now he mumbled to himself as the alchemy on his vambraces flickered on and off. He was not all right.

Sofia called him and he didn’t hear her. It was too crowded, too loud on the track with everyone yelling.

“Lev Guard cheated! He killed Elyena!” Zoya’s voice was louder than all, cutting through the noise like a grating shard of glass on stone. “I saw it! The Heir Apparent saw it! Everyone saw it, didn’t you? That last fence was tainted with Guard magic! Lev Guard killed Elyena Durnov!” Of course she would say that. Daniil ran over Elyena.

There were a lot of sentinels on the field who’d lost a lot of money, and Lord Durnov had his blade drawn already. No one had crossed the finish line except for Lev, and the fact was everyone with eyes had seen that cursed bush grow arms and pull Snowstorm.

Sofia lost track of Aleksei, but she saw her brother, alone, wide eyed as now everyone pointed their fingers at him. He’d won and done nothing wrong.

Rhytsar reared and Lev jumped off, the light guard he’d summoned, the size of a shield, shattering as a darksteel bolt just missed him, grazing the side of his face, gashing open his cheek and ear.

“Aleksei!” Sofia sprinted toward the sentinel, his eyes glowering wicked red.

Lev’s alchemy glowed, trying to withstand the barrage of the darksteel sword biting into his light guard. Aleksei kicked him, his shin guard growing teeth and piercing into her brother’s ribs just before making contact. Aleksei had been wearing riding boots, not armor, and that came out of nowhere. Sofia had to assume the darksteel molded to whatever the sentinel wanted.

Blood sprayed from Lev’s mouth as he fell to the ground, managing to roll away as Aleksei’s left fist came down onto where his face had been, hard enough to spray up earth.

“Kill him, Aleksei!”

“Fuck the Guards!”

None of those riling up the captain of the sentinels was Zoya, people had lost their damn minds.

Lev scooted back on the mud, covering himself with whatever light he had, while Aleksei’s strikes chipped and chipped at it. A crack ran across Lev’s guard, the light giving away to the flurry and rage of the darksteel.

Lev was sane, sober now, and couldn’t use Dragon’s Breath with so many people around, but Aleksei had clearly lost it and was going to kill her brother. Sofia couldn’t get between them and hope to live, but Semyon rammed into Aleksei and took him down into the mud. The ox like boy was in full iron armor, his alchemy glowing too, and Sofia hoped the weight of him would keep Aleksei down, but Semyon didn’t try to restrain him but to kill him. His gauntlet met Aleksei’s face armor, and the steel against steel reverberated.

A darksteel serpent wrapped around Semyon’s neck and forced his head back and down. Aleksei kicked him off and rose. It was his blade that had turned into the snake like whip and retracted into a sword again in his grip. As Semyon was getting up, Aleksei kneed him in the chest. The Skuratov alchemy on the breastplate dimmed, it looked as though Aleksei had shattered his alchemy, but it was darksteel piercing through the weak part of the Skuratov armor—the gold alchemy. Blood sprayed from Semyon’s mouth through his helmet.

A surge of fire blew by Sofia’s face close enough to singe her curls and eyelashes—Dragon’s Breath. It was bright and the heat was scorching. There had been people there. This was done. This was done. This was done. Horses and men staggered by, silently flailing, charred dark figures in the swell of flames.

After the blaze passed, Aleksei dropped a darksteel shield onto the ground, the metal warped and hissing. The sentinel’s alchemy glowed, constructing a crossbow, and it fired and fired, rotating and creating its bolts one after another. The first caught Lev under the collarbone, nearly missing his heart. Her brother staggered forward as the second missed his blond crown. The third, Lev caught with his light guard, but the fourth struck in the same cracked spot and went right into his palm.

Sofia stepped in front of Aleksei. The fifth was going to kill her brother.

The weapon trained at her heart, his red eyes glowered. Aleksei twisted his neck, looking evil, but he didn’t shoot at her. Slowly, she crossed the distance between them and pressed down his arm, letting the crossbow fall to the ground. Reaching out, she caressed the side of his neck before guiding the face armor up onto his crown.

He frowned at her, confused, then as he blinked, the glow in his eyes dimmed, eventually returning to their dark scarlet hue. “Sofia,” he whispered, taking a moment to recognize her.

She fell onto him and wrapped him in her embrace. Disorder on the track, people ran every way, but feeling someone watching her, Sofia turned her head, Aleksei still in her arms, and saw the archmage in the stands. He was looking right at them, as still as a gold icon of a saint.