“Being this close tends to have that particular drawback. It should get better once we’re all running,” Roderick told her.
“That’s good to know,” Rose said.
The sun shifted as the clouds wafted gently over them. Everyone was waiting for the moment when the bulls would be released. In the audience, some were quiet and contemplative, others eager and unable to stand still.
Rose looked around at her competition and felt strangely out of place. How many others, she wondered, were here, about to run for something greater than money and fame?
She needed to complete this race, she knew. It was the only way she would be able to get off the island. It was the only way to get what she needed, to escape her curse, to restore her family, and to keep her crown.
The bell tolled fiercely, and Rose felt her feet start to move as the others around her shifted as one, before gradually separating.
The bulls behind them were released, and like a moving mountain of drumming rocks. Rose lost sight of Roderick as a large bull rammed between them.
“Keep steady,” Philip called, reaching out a hand to steady her. “The bulls have been bridled with different armor types, so if they hit someone, it’ll more likely injure them.”
She grasped his hand as she ran, using her imbalance to propel herself forward. “I don’t need your help,” she cried out.
“You apparently do, since I caught you.”
Rose huffed. “I do not!”
“Don’t worry, Rose, we can save the flirtatious banter for later,” Philip told her. “Some people say it is easier to run if you are talking, but I’ve never found that to be the case.”
“Then just shut your mouth, won’t you?”
Snort! A bull came up behind Rose and sneezed on her.
“Ew!”
Philip laughed from up ahead of her.
“You wouldn’t be laughing if it had been you!” Rose snapped back.
“I know, but it didn’t happen to me,” Philip called back.
There was a careless grin on his face. The sight of it made Rose angry. It was one thing to suffer at the arrogance of a friend; it was another thing entirely to be forced to suffer with his handsome face, too.
Rose jerked her arm out of his and increased her speed to run beside him. “Let’s see how long it is until you get bull spit on you,” she challenged.
“Deal.”
The sincere solemnity of his voice made her laugh, momentarily lifting her spirit.
Rose and Philip continued to run forward steadily, the pounding of their feet hitting the old cobblestone roads of the older parts of the city, the dirty puddles of the poor district, and the wooden planks surrounding the marina.
“Ouch!” Philip suddenly jostled to the side, disappearing from Rose’s sight as a bull broke between them.
“Philip?” Rose slowed down, looking for her companion.
A strike of thunder lashed out from behind her. Rose felt herself fly into the ground as something huge smashed into her.
The ground was hard beneath her knuckles and knees. A second crash came down on her back. Before she could wonder if it had been a bull, Rose realized it was a large boot of another runner.
Her vision went dark as her faced landed in a puddle of mud and moss.
A cruel laugh and the charging bulls behind her made her desperately surge forward, groping for the sides of the running trail as her ears roared with the sound of oncoming terror.
Between the stomps and rumbles of the bulls’ steps, she was able to catch the sound of cruel, arrogant laughter. “That’ll teach you to run into city traffic.” The familiar voice summoned up a tidal wave of anger. “You should have stayed at home where you belong, you senseless woman.”
“Marsor,” Rose muttered under her breath. A bull brushed into her, slamming her into the wall, hard. Pain punched through her, as she continued to keep moving. She had to keep going. “I’ll get you back for that!” she cried, wiping the last of the mud out of her eyes.
A renewed sense of determination burned through her. She would keep going. Not only to win the tournament prize, now, she decided, but to make sure Marsor paid his dues for almost killing her for vengeful sport.
Her fists clenched as she sped forward. The marina became a blur as Rose scanned the runners’ backs for Marsor’s beastly countenance.
“Rose!” Philip’s call was muffled as it sloshed around in her mind.
For several long moments, as the mountains were stripped of the cityscape’s remnants and were gradually replaced, Rose pushed herself forward. It did not escape her she had almost died when Marsor had deliberately barraged her. Rose could not believe he had the nerve to attack her merely because of an earlier accident.
No wonder he’s won in this event for the last three years, Rose thought to herself. He’s willing to sacrifice anyone who stands in his way or anyone who had the audacity to confront him.
“Rose, wait up.”
All of Philip’s cries and all of her life seemed to blur into simple colors, until only black remained, and emptiness settled into the great, hulking figure of the champion from Castile and Aragon.
Rose pulled out the sword at her side and unsheathed it. With careful assessment, double-checking to make sure there were no other bulls in the area, Rose angled it downward and scooped up a small load of bull excrement that had fallen on the path.
Aiming carefully, she pitched the mushy lump of dung forward, managing to hit the back of Marsor’s head.
A few laughs from other runners trickled into Rose’s mind, serving as a small reminder there was a bigger task at hand.
“What in the blazes?!” Marsor’s thunderous roar came just as Rose finished replacing her sword in her scabbard.
She laughed, slowing down ever so slightly, trying not to let the euphoria of payback get to her.
Only when she stepped on an unfamiliar substance did Rose awaken from her vindictive stupor. She gasped and faltered, nearly falling over, as she failed to stop herself from running onto a trampled human body.
“I’ve got you again,” Philip told her, grabbing her arm and pulling her forward once more. He looked at her shocked face. “You know, you really should be more careful when you’re—what’s wrong?”
“That was a person.” Rose’s eyes were wide with shock.
“Yes, there are some people who get trampled by the bulls and other runners if they fall,” he said, his voice kind. “There have been several who have left the race already because of injury, and others who were not so lucky. There are some volunteers who are working to get them off the track.”
“I didn’t even notice.” Rose glanced back, unable to see the body she had run over, the body she had pushed further into the ground. Guilt and remorse pressed into her.
“I noticed you didn’t,” Philip replied. “You were on a mission.”
“Marsor nearly killed me,” Rose explained, her resentment returning. “He made me angry.”
“I saw,” Philip said. “I was butted by a couple of bulls and other runners myself, trying to reach you.” His grip on her arm tightened. “I was worried for you.”
“I know my curse will protect me from death,” Rose said with a slight shrug. “But it makes me angry that Marsor thinks he can just cheat like that, just so he can win and feel like I got rightfully punished because of our earlier incident.”
“It’s amazing how many people will use the moral high ground to take others down.” Philip smiled. “I saw you toss the bull nuggets at him. Clever move, but he’ll only get more upset if you antagonize him.”
“Not clever enough,” Rose remarked brusquely. “I’m sure if he was vicious enough to try to take me down, he didn’t have any trouble doing it to others, too.” She glanced around, startled to see how many people were slowing down and getting bumped and bruised from the bulls. Some fell to the side as the city square came into sight.
“I’ve heard that a good quarter of the people will not make it past the running o
f the bulls,” Philip said.
“Didn’t Felise mention that?”
“I don’t remember.” Philip laughed bitterly. “I’m looking forward to the end, myself.”
Rose frowned as she cast a hurried look at her friend. He was sweating and huffing, with a tiredness about him that made his movements awkward and stagnated. “I think this is the least graceful I’ve ever seen you.”
“Give it some time,” Philip said, breathing deeply as he kept pace with her. “I’m sure I’ll look worse before this day is over.”
“Are you okay?” Rose asked.
That was when she noticed there was blood dripping down his side. Philip’s eyes followed her gaze. “Don’t worry about it,” he told her. “I’ll be fine. We only have a few blocks left.”
“You’re hurt!” Rose shot back. “We should stop.”
“We will, in about six blocks.”
Rose glanced up to see there were several patches of cheering crowds; several trumpets and horns blared out acclaim and celebration. Other runners were beginning to arrive in the arena.
“We can at least slow down,” Rose argued. “The point is to finish and be alive, not to finish first.”
Philip remained silent long enough for her to pull herself close to him and wrap her arm around his waist, carefully placing her hand above his wound. She balanced his weight against hers, shuffling her feet around to match his pace.
“Come on, Rose, I’m not helpless,” Philip insisted.
“Just let me help you.” Rose looked up at him through her lashes. “Please.”
He rolled his eyes, but allowed her to help him. “Isra’s taught you how to flirt, I see,” he scoffed. “She does the same thing.”
Rose grinned to herself. She had always been good at getting what she wanted.
As they came to the entrance to the arena, more cheers went up, and a few nuns in medical gear began to ask questions.
Rose shooed them away, telling them loudly she would take Philip to the medical station herself.
“Looks like we’re going to go see Theo early today,” Philip murmured.
Rose pursed her lips together. “You’re not allowed to die on me.”
“Not for a small thing like this,” he assured her. “I would hate for our two countries to become embroiled in a war over a matter of a bull. I’d rather it was over you insulting me, or me telling you how beautiful you are.” He looked at her squarely. “I know you hate it, but it’s true, even now. Especially now. All of us look tired after the long run, some of us dirty and bleeding. But not you. You’re just stunning.” He ruffled her hair affectionately.
“I’d rather you didn’t do that,” Rose told him.
“What? Go to war with you?” he asked.
“No. Touch my hair.”
“Theo does.”
“So?” Rose snapped. “He does it to tease me, not to flirt with me.”
“How do you know?”
“I just know!” Rose’s voice nearly cracked.
“I am teasing you, just so you know.” There was a softer quality to his voice that stalled her anger.
“You’re making me uncomfortable.”
“I’m the one who’s uncomfortable at the moment,” Philip reminded her.
“Which is the only reason I haven’t dumped you onto the ground.”
“For which I can only be grateful,” Philip said with a small laugh. He sucked in his breath sharply. “Very grateful.”
“Let’s see if we can find Mary. She’ll be able to help you with that better than I can.”
*10*
҉
“THANK YOU, SIR. YOU’VE helped me more than I can say.”
Theo handed the older man extra strips of cloth and patted him on his hunched back; he smiled to see the bandages flicker with Mary’s signature work. “We are all meant to help each other,” he said. “Take these and use them to rewrap your wrist as you need to. Please let me know if we can do more for you. We’ll be here all week.”
“Your prayers are enough, Brother,” the man replied, nodding graciously. “God bless.”
Theo waved as the man headed off into the crowds. “Thanks, Mary,” he whispered down to the small fairy perched on the pillow beside the pallet at his feet.
Mary sighed. “I’m glad I was able to help him, but he sure liked to talk.”
Theo grinned. “Maybe I should let you put the next overly talkative person to sleep.”
“It might help us actually get through the line.” Mary looked over at the gathering behind their station, where women and men alike were weeping over personal injuries or the condition of their loved ones—several of which, Theo knew, were likely dead already.
“Brother Theo.”
Mary jerked back under the pillow as one of the other medics came forward.
“Abbess Aurelia,” Theo greeted warmly. The older nun was the one who had recruited him for working with the medics for the week, and Theo respected her for it. The Abbess was one who took charge of her calling, often giving orders and advice to all who would seek it—and, Theo recalled with a small smile, many who were not seeking it at all.
“Take a break and head inside to help the kitchens serve food to our patients,” she instructed. “I have come to offer you a respite from this station. We’ll need more men down at the city’s trench for burial later, too, if you can stay after sundown.”
“I’ll help out as much as I can.”
“You and your fairy friend have done some good work today.”
“Oh, uh ... ” Theo glanced over at Mary’s hiding spot. “I, uh, well ... ”
“The Good Lord made all the earth,” Aurelia told him. “And while humans know full well not to dabble in magic, I’ve no objection to the creatures he has created for the task.”
Mary peeked out from under the covers. “You’d be among the few, Madame,” she murmured.
Aurelia’s eyes twinkled kindly at her. “I can understand your position, given we are surrounded by the superstitious as well as the obnoxious. But I thank you for making the sacrifice to come and heal these people. The Good Lord himself healed many while he was preaching, and goodness knows none of us deserve such mercy.” Her nose wrinkled as she added, “Especially when some of us are too quick to find trouble again.”
Theo silently agreed, thinking of all the people who had sought the excitement of running with the bulls, only to find the shallow grave of the city trench. “If there is anything else we can do to help, please let us know, Abbess.”
“You’re a sweet one. And I’ll take you up on it later, no doubt. This is only the first day, after all. Six more will follow; seven, if a lot of people end up dying.”
“I know we have a lot of people who still need help,” Theo said, “but, hopefully, we will be able to manage.”
Aurelia nodded. “We are here to help, and there are many who need help. This is the easiest way to make a difference.”
“I wish we could get everyone to help us with our problems,” Mary spoke up.
“You have need of something?” Aurelia asked. “Just ask, and we’ll see what we can do.”
“I’ve already talked to some of the monks and nuns here regarding passage to the Romani territory,” Theo told Mary. “There are a limited number of open tickets for ships, but passage is pretty regulated.”
“What about finding the dragons?” Mary asked.
“Dragons?” Aurelia repeated. “You’re going to hunt dragons?”
Theo nodded. “We are on a mission for the crown of our home country,” he explained. “We seek dragon’s blood, in order to rid our home of an agent of evil.”
“So you’ll be looking for the Serpent’s Garden, then.”
Theo was taken aback. “You’ve heard of it?”
“There are some ancient manuscripts on the matter,” she said, “and it is impossible to account for all the tales travelers bring to and fro. But the Thorneback, that’s the dragon you’ll find, if you know where to g
o in the Romani territory. There, they are guarded by Amalia, the Celestial Dragonkeeper.”
“Abbess!” A shout from another worker interrupted the conversation. Theo and Mary exchanged looks as Aurelia called back orders. From her expression, Theo knew she was in agreement with his silent conclusion: They had to find out more.
“Is that a true story?” Theo asked, as the Abbess turned her attention back to them. “About Amalia, and the dragons in the Serpent’s Garden?”
“Many around here know of the more legendary aspects of the tale,” Aurelia admitted. “Even though our sources are sadly out of date. But if you’re interested, and they’ll help you, I’ll be glad to give them to you in exchange for all your hard work for the church here this week.”
“You’d give them to us?” Theo asked.
“Of course. Part of our job here on Maltia is to make sure we have sufficient copies of our collected manuscripts,” she explained. “Some nuns and monks keep record of the present, but there’s really very little need for information, when you think about it. The world needs more knowledge, and people need more wisdom.”
“I know my brother, who is getting ordained as a priest soon, sees to some of the records back where we are from,” Theo told her. “He prefers reading his books and scrolls.” Theo almost laughed, but thinking of Thad made him homesick.
Thad would love this, Theo thought. Helping people, and then getting to read a bunch of ancient texts after he finished his tasks—yes, Thad would be right at home on Maltia.
Theo decided if he ever could afford it, he would send Thad to Maltia to study at their university.
“He’s a smart one, by the sound of it. The world needs fighters and heroes and friends, but it also needs stories and history.” She chuckled. “Where else, but on the other side of heaven, would we know why we fight for things, and why those things matter? You know as well as I do, Brother Theo, the world is a sadder place when we forget those things, especially if we can’t even remember why we are sad.”
“Many fairy kingdoms have similar practices,” Mary spoke up, before blushing. “I’d forgotten that, myself.”
A young boy, struggling to walk, came up beside the Abbess, his parents only steps behind. “Well, you’d best head off,” Aurelia said. “I’ve got patients.”
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