Free Thirteenth Night by Alan Gordon Page B

good souls!” shouted the Captain. “Three times around the church.”
    We took off at a reasonable gallop, skidding and colliding as we turned the corners. I remembered that local custom had turned the traditional three circuits into a friendly race. I was interested to see what Zeus could do when challenged. The first two laps we ran together, with the weaker or more cautious horses drifting to the rear of the pack. Some couldn’t handle the corners and slid into the adjoining buildings or lurched into the crowd. Miraculously, there were no fatalities, although one soldier pitched over the side of an unfinished wall of the nascent cathedral. From his laughter, I gathered he landed uninjured or was too drunk to care.
    As the third lap began, the Captain was a length ahead of the rest of us as some fierce wagering went on in the market. I gave Zeus his head just to see what would happen. He shook it happily and shot past the pack until just the Captain was ahead of us. He glanced back, saw us gaining, and spurred his mount onward.
    â€œGo, you wretched beast!” I yelled. “I give you a bushel of apples if you win!”
    The crowd roared as we rounded the last corner neck and neck. The Captain spurred his stallion so hard that blood ran down its flanks. He thrashed it with the reins, cursed it and its lineage. I took the opposite tack and let go of the reins. The crowd scattered as we hurtled into it, and Zeus was first by a head.
    It took us to the other side of the square to rein in our steeds. I was breathing harder than Zeus was. The Captain looked at him appraisingly.
    â€œFaster than he looks,” he said. I nodded, still out of breath. “And you weren’t wearing armor. That gave you an advantage.” I nodded again. “But not for this.” His sword flashed under my chin before I could even blink. “You’ve cost me a small fortune today, merchant.”
    â€œGood Captain,” I gasped. “This was merely sport. This is a holy day, a festive day. I intended no disrespect. I just wanted to see what the animal could do.”
    Slowly, too slowly for my taste, he returned his sword to its scabbard. “It would be a sin to challenge you on a feast day. And there are several more to follow. So, my sportive merchant, you are safe for now. I suggest that you complete your business here by Twelfth Night. Otherwise, you will take up my gage and meet me in combat.” If a man on a horse could be said to storm away, the Captain did so.
    I was angry at myself for drawing this unnecessary attention. Until I knew who all the players were, it was foolish to make enemies. Then again, he was a man who didn’t need much of an excuse.
    Some happy winners offered to buy me a meal and drink in honor of my triumph. I decided to let them. We trudged back to the Elephant. I sent Newt out to purchase some dried apples for Zeus, then sat down to lunch and conversation. I quickly gathered that the Captain was not much beloved in the town, which was hardly surprising.
    â€œAt least when the old Duke was alive, he held him in check,” said a farmer. “He’s getting out of control, now.”
    â€œHush, you don’t know who’s listening,” advised a dockhand.
    â€œAm I in any real danger?” I asked.
    They shrugged. “He had wagered pretty heavily on winning today,” said the farmer. “But that’s hardly a matter of honor. Just stupidity. It wouldn’t benefit him to challenge someone over money.”
    â€œDoesn’t he still owe fealty to the young Duke?”
    â€œOf course,” said a blacksmith. “But the Duke’s a child, and he’s been sick. Captain won’t accept orders from Claudius or the Duchess, and they haven’t made anyone regent yet.”
    â€œThe boy’s ill? I hadn’t heard.”
    â€œNothing to hear. He’s always been sickly, and the cold took him badly this year. And the