Once they had gone, I turned to Radulf, but before I could speak, he said, "I warned you not to expect fairness. I warned you, Nic!"
"I expected all of this," I said, almost under my breath. "Just not Aurelia."
Crispus had come beside me again and was so upset he could barely talk. "If I hadn't let her leave my home --"
"I made the bargain. I even set the terms," I said. That was most horrifying of all, realizing this was my fault.
"What will you do?" Livia asked.
I turned to her. "Radulf's horses can't remain here in the stables, and I don't want them stolen too. Someone needs to take them home."
"Those old horses are the least of my concerns right now," Radulf said.
"Well, it's the greatest of mine!" I shouted. "I don't want my sister to watch this race!"
I pulled her aside, just the two of us, and explained everything. What I now understood about the key to the Malice, why she couldn't be here at the race today, and what needed to happen if I was to succeed. It was hard to say, even though she had asked to be a part of it. I knew she was afraid for me. Worse still, I knew that she didn't like what I was asking of her, and I could only hope she would do it anyway. When we came back to Radulf, she said with tears in her eyes, "I'll take the horses to your home. But when I come back, I'm going to watch Nic race. I have to."
I nodded at her, though my heart was pounding too loudly for words.
Radulf sent one of his servants to accompany her home while the other began hitching up my chariot to Callistus. While they did, I went to his side and whispered an apology to him.
"You aren't meant for such a task," I said. "But I've had to ask it of you anyway. The race will be difficult. You must stay ahead of the other chariots; that is the only way to protect yourself."
Callistus tossed his head, and I hugged him with full gratitude.
"Can I speak to you alone?" Radulf asked me.
Radulf was the last person I wanted to speak to privately. I didn't need his scolding, his reminders of all the times I'd failed, or his threats or curses of my stupidity. I knew all that without him telling me so. And my expression showed it.
"Nic, I will speak to you." Radulf's tone was firmer than before. "Now."
"I'll make sure the chariot is hooked up properly," Crispus offered.
So with obvious reluctance, I followed Radulf to a quiet area behind the stables. He stood facing me, but not as he usually did -- as a proud general who tried to control everyone and everything around him. No, this time, he looked as uncomfortable as I felt, as if he had never been in this situation before.
"Don't tie yourself to the chariot," he said. "You ignored that advice before. Will you listen to me now?"
I didn't answer. Mostly because I still doubted the wisdom of ever listening to his advice. I wanted to hear what he had to say first.
"You have to win today," Radulf said. "Even if it means Aurelia loses, you must win. I hope you can understand that."
My jaw clenched. "I won't let her lose."
"Listen to me," he said. "You have a responsibility to the magic within you. The gods have trusted you with these powers, and this race has put that at stake. If you lose, the Praetors will take the Malice, they will awaken the Mistress, and they will force you to make a Jupiter Stone. With it, they will control the heavens and destroy even the dust beneath your feet."
"I know what's at stake, sir. More than anyone."
"Aurelia will understand why you have to win."
"I will not ask her to understand! I will not do that to her, especially not for your reasons!" I bit into the words. He didn't care for Aurelia, no more than he cared about me or Livia or anything other than his own personal power.
I started to walk away, but he grabbed my arm and turned me again to face him. But instead of speaking, he only stared at me as if the thoughts were clear in his heart but hadn't yet become words in his head. As if he didn't even know the right words for what he was feeling. Well, if his feelings were anywhere near mine, I could suggest a few choice words, but he wouldn't like them.
"Let me go," I said, pulling free. "I need to prepare for the race."
"I don't want you to lose," he finally mumbled, then swallowed hard and tried again. "That's not the right way to say it. What I mean, Nic, is that I don't want to lose you."
I stared back at him, not entirely sure of what he meant. If those words had come from nearly anyone else in my life, they would've made sense. But this was Radulf, who had been my enemy and captor, who had all but killed me in the amphitheater, and who had made it clear on more than one occasion that the only reason he never finished the job was because he intended to use me to create a Jupiter Stone.
Surely nothing had changed between us. Or had it? Perhaps sometime in recent days, he had changed.
Radulf shifted his weight, even more uncomfortable than before, if that was possible. "I am your grandfather."
"Don't say that."
"I loved your father more than I thought it was possible to love a person. He was a better son than I could've hoped for, better than I ever deserved. When the Romans invaded Gaul -- on one of their many invasions -- I was taken from him and forced to become a gladiator. At the time, he was just a little younger than you are now. At first I fought for the Romans because I believed if I did well enough, then I could earn enough money for my freedom so that I could get back home to your father. Perhaps you can understand a little of how I felt in those early days."
I understood that perfectly. Finding a way to free my mother and sister had obsessed my thoughts every day I worked in the mines.
"The more I fought, the more the people cheered for me. And after a while, I was no longer fighting for freedom, I was fighting for the people's love, while never loving them in return. Too much praise will do that to you. If you desire praise too much, it becomes your master. Then the Romans made me a soldier and asked me to fight for victory and honor." Radulf's faced softened. "I forgot, Nic. I forgot how to fight for my son, for those I care about. But I remember now."
"My father's gone," I said stiffly.
"I know that." Now Radulf's tone matched his expression. "But he's here again, in you."
I stepped farther back. "I don't remember much about him anymore."
Radulf's eyes moistened, something I hadn't thought was even possible for him. "I remember everything, whenever I look at you," he mumbled. "I already lost your father. And I don't think I could bear it if I lost you in the race today."
Crispus peeked into the clearing where Radulf and I stood. "Nic, they're calling for the racers. We need to go."
"You are my grandson, Nic, and one day I hope to earn the right for you to call me grandfather, willingly. Please do not lose this race."
I stared at Radulf for only a moment, before I nodded at him and then walked away with Crispus. As we passed the stables, I shook my hands to clear the excess magic in them, and the curse tablets that had been nailed to the stables all fell to the ground. With another toss of my hand, they melted into a lead floor. So much for the curses.
"You seem unsteady," Crispus said. "What did Radulf say to you?"
I glanced back in the direction from which we had come. "I'm honestly not sure. I'm beginning to think Radulf might actually care about me. Maybe."
Crispus raised an eyebrow. "Really?"
"I don't know." My heart began pounding again. "I don't know about anything right now."
"You can sort it out with Radulf after the race."
"No, that's what I mean, Crispus. I don't know how to finish the race. I don't know what I should do next."
He smiled over at me. It wasn't a real smile, but it was nice to see anyway. "You will find a way," he said. "I believe in you."
Though I hadn't seen the crowds for myself this morning, Crispus had described the heavy flow of people into the circus, beyond seating capacity. The extras stood along the top rows and pressed into every arched entrance. Certainly the start o
f the Ludi Romani was exciting, but there was more to the games this time. The people had heard that the runaway slave with magic would be racing, and they expected a show similar to what they had seen in the amphitheater two months ago.
Well, I wouldn't give that to them. The bulla was already warm and swelling with magic, but I pushed the feelings away. I would not use it now, especially not when Aurelia would be on the track with me.
Crispus and I walked upstairs to the roof of the building that housed the starting gates. Here, in full view of the audience, we would draw our lots for the race. The crowd was already making noise for the other charioteers, but when I came up, we heard a swell of both cheers and jeers. The other charioteers looked at me like I was a meal to be devoured. I glared back at them, but it did nothing to remove the look of hunger in their eyes. Slaves had prepared our horses and were attending to them down below, but no one would go to the gates yet. Not until we drew for our positions. Radulf had hoped my name would be one of the last ones called, so that I could choose a racing position as far from any enemies as possible. Looking around me, I saw what a useless strategy that was -- everyone up here was against me. The only chance I had of avoiding all my enemies was to choose an empty track on the farthest corner of the earth. And maybe even that would not be enough.
I looked for Aurelia, but she wasn't here. One of the Praetors was probably drawing a number for her.
"She's all right," Crispus whispered when he saw me looking. "They want her to win, so they won't hurt her."
No, not yet, and not if she won. Not if I lost.
In the absence of Emperor Florian, the sponsor of today's games was supposed to have been the presiding magistrate of the Senate, Valerius. But he was gone and another senator might not have been chosen to replace him yet. Still, I expected it would be at least one of the senators, so I was surprised when the sponsor was announced to the people, and the cheers went up for Decimas Brutus as he climbed the stairs. It wasn't unheard of for a Praetor to preside over the games, but I had hoped it would be anyone else. Brutus accepted the applause of the crowd as if he were the emperor himself, then walked back to address us.
"Welcome to the first chariot race of the Ludi Romani," he said. "As you all know, we race in honor of the gods and for the glory of Rome." Then his eye fell on me. "But then, you also know that there is much at stake for your own futures. Unless you are the victor, it's probably not worth your trouble to survive all seven laps. Except for you, Nicolas Calva. They will bring you to me alive. I will see you immediately after the race ... or sooner."
I arched an eyebrow, but he gave no further explanation for those strange words.
A large vase was in the center of the staging area, taller than the biggest man here. It had already been loaded with balls that had been carved with our names. Usually, the balls were simply painted with each faction's color, but there were no factions today, not unless there were only two: me, and then everyone else. And Aurelia was a third faction, perhaps. Brutus turned a bar until a ball dropped out from below the vase. He picked up the ball, rotated it to see the name etched on its face, and shouted out to the crowd, "Kaeso!"
A chunky man stomped forward, the only way I assumed he knew how to walk. He shouted out, "I will have the second gate!"
He glared at me as he walked back, and I immediately determined not to choose the gates on either side of him.
A second man was called, who chose the twelfth gate, likely hoping it would keep him as far from the danger as possible. It wouldn't be so bad to ride next to him, but then the third man to be called up chose the eleventh, and I definitely wanted to avoid him. He looked like a bull and was probably just as mean.
As it turned out, I was the last to be chosen, and when the ball with my name on it was released, I saw why. It had been made much larger than the rest, so it would only fall out when nothing smaller remained inside the vase.
Brutus held up the ball and called out to the crowd, "Nicolas Calva, which stall will you have?"
The only one that was left, so I didn't bother to answer him. I'd be in the third position, which wasn't bad but wasn't the best I could've done either. Other than the man leaving from the eleventh gate, the cruelest-looking competitors had taken the lower numbers.
"The runaway slave will have the third gate!" Brutus called to the crowd, then turned to me and grinned wickedly. "Congratulations, my boy."
Heat filled me. I was not his boy. I was no one's boy.
"Come on," I said to Crispus, already marching away while the other competitors remained upstairs to receive their applause from the crowd.
"Third gate puts you close to the spine," Crispus said. "So at least two chariots won't try to take your place."
"Those racers are not ordered to take my place," I said. "They are ordered to remove me from it. Now, please have the unicorn brought to the gates as quickly as possible. I'll meet you there."
Since most of the other charioteers went directly to their horses out back, I was the first to arrive at the gates. No, I was the second.
Aurelia was already there, chained into a pathetic chariot that had probably been around since Nero's time. The option of leaving the race was not given to her. She was already set in the tenth position, where she'd race directly beside the man I had thought looked so cruel. He would run right over the limp team of horses Brutus had given her for the race.
She leaned my way when she saw me coming. "There isn't much time, so listen carefully. I won't win, so don't waste your strength trying to change that."
"You have to win," I said.
Her face tightened. "I've never driven a chariot, and I'm not good with horses."
"Exactly why you have to win. I can catch up to you, but you'll never catch up to me. Not with this team."
"You're not making sense! And more than that, I know what happens if you lose. Do not make me responsible for the consequences of you losing!"
The corner of my mouth turned up. "Well, here's the problem. You're chained to that chariot, so there's not much you can do to stop me."
Her eyes narrowed. Hardly the first time she'd been angry with my choices. "If you're thinking of --"
"Yes, Aurelia, I am." Under my breath, I mumbled, "I am thinking of you."
Crispus was approaching with Callistus already harnessed to my chariot. I motioned them over and said, "Quickly now, unhitch that while I unhitch Aurelia's."
"Nic, don't you dare!" she said. "I'll scream."
"Save that for later," I said, grinning, "when you yell at me for this." Which she would. There was no doubt of that.
I had done this often enough that I unhitched Aurelia's team quickly and, with her continuing protests, rolled her chariot backward and out of the tenth gate. And since Crispus only had to unhook Callistus from my chariot, he finished at nearly the same time. Other teams were arriving by then, and we got plenty of strange looks, but no one attempted to stop us. Even those who realized what I was doing must've figured it wasn't helping my chances of winning, so ignoring me worked in their favor.
I returned Aurelia's chariot to the gate where it belonged, but this time, with Callistus at the head.
"Please don't do this," she said.
"Listen carefully," I told her. "It doesn't matter if you know about horses or know how to race. You're chained in there so you won't fall out, and Callistus won't crash. You let him do the work, trust him, and he will get you over that finish line."
She shook her head while tears rolled from her eyes. "No. I don't want this."
"And I don't want it any other way." I put my hand over hers. "When we were in the sewers together, you asked me for a favor: to save your inheritance. I'm your friend, so I should've offered my help then."
"Don't help me because of the inheritance." She wouldn't look at me, but she did turn her hand and lock her fingers with mine. "It has to be a better reason than that."
"Nic!" Crispus called.
I had to go before we ran out of tim
e. I said to Aurelia, "I will see you soon. Then we'll talk."
"I'm afraid, Nic."
I gave her hand a quick squeeze. "It's all right. Trust me."
Then I released her hand and walked back to the third gate, where Crispus was finishing attaching my chariot to Aurelia's team of horses. They were sturdy but didn't seem to be even half as strong as any other team here.
I gave each horse a greeting, explaining that I would do my best for them if they did the same for me. I didn't use the bulla to speak to them, so I had no idea if they could understand me. But at least I had tried.
Crispus was somber as I climbed into my chariot. Like the others, it was only made of wicker bound together with leather straps, not much different from riding in a bread basket. But my carriage was even lighter now. There was nothing on the floor of the chariot but a single board -- the axis of the cart. If I slipped, my feet would go straight through to the ground. I would go straight through, beneath the wheels.
Crispus handed me the reins and climbed up behind me to tie them around my waist.
"Don't," I said.
"These horses will expect that," he said. "That's how they're used to racing. And it's the only way you've ever raced."
"I won't be tied in." Radulf had always been right about this. For the kind of race ahead of me, I needed to control the horses with my hands.
"It'll protect you. If you slip, this will keep you in the chariot."
"Get down, Crispus, please."
He sighed, but obeyed and stepped back. "I will see you in seven laps, my friend."
There were words in my head, thoughts that I wanted to say. Such as apologies and explanations, and pleas for him to watch after Livia if anything went wrong. But when I opened my mouth to respond, nothing came out. So I gave up and let him go with only a nod.
While some chariot races began straight out of the gate, because this was the first race of the Ludi Romani, we were to have a procession first. Since the emperor was not in attendance, today's procession would be more simple than usual -- a single lap at trotting speed. Because I was on an outside track, my horses would have to go faster at the curves to keep our processional line even, tiring them faster.
Roman soldiers on horseback and carrying the banners of Rome came into the building. Several of them looked back and nodded at me. These were Radulf's men today, and though they could do nothing for me, it helped to see their good wishes. The trumpets blared, warning the crowd that we were about to come out. They would play twice more -- at the start of the race when the white cloth was dropped and then at the start of the final lap.