Rise of the Wolf (Mark of the Thief 2) - Page 50

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.

Tags: Jennifer A. Nielsen Mark of the Thief Fantasy
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