Free The Chariots Slave by R. Lynn Page A

not cooperate, then
we will have to replace you with another lead.”
    Diana lifted her nose into the air and let forth a screeching
whinny.
“Are you calling my bluff?” Thaddius gave the horse a
mock glare. “I can’t even be sure you still know what to do at
a circus,” he jested.
The temptation of the empty chariot all ready to drive
gripped at his resolve. He looked longingly toward the cart.
He rested his eyes on his favorite place in the world, the
helm. As if understanding the matters of his heart, Diana
shoved her head into his back and pushed him toward it.
This slight nudge was all he needed to revive familiar
movements. His hand grabbed at the handle, its worn leather
embracing him with greeting. Using it to leverage his weight,
in one gliding motion he hopped onto the platform.
His feet were drawn like magnets to their traditional spot.
The paint below them was worn down to raw wood from the
numerous times he had stood in that very place. Somehow the
leather reins made their way into his grasp. And as usual, he
wrapped it three times around his left hand and with his right
clung tightly to the wooden frame.
Tilting back his head and closing his eyes, he predicted
every move he would make. His heart beat in unison with
each gallop he imagined the horses taking. He could no
    

longer deny what his body thirsted for, so he opened his
mouth and gave Diana the command.
“Hijah!”
     


     
D iana and the other horses took off down the circus track
    with the same ferocity as if on show before thousands of fans.
Dust. stirred by their hooves, flew into Thaddius’s face. His
hair and tunic flapped about him as he stood his ground.
    Man and beasts and cart worked as one, a balance of wit
and speed. A deadly trio.
They were reaching the first turn, and instead of pulling
back on the reins to slow their advance, he loosened his grip.
“Hijah!” he screamed, signalling the team to increase its
speed into the curve.
Instantly the outside horses leaned into Diana. Shoulder to
shoulder the three beasts pushed on. With each thrust of their
hooves, they dug in deeper propelling the chariot forward.
Thaddius bent his knees and readied himself to balance
through the bend. The speed at which they entered caused the
right side wheel to rise slightly from the ground. Ignoring the
pressing need to balance his weight, he trusted that Diana
would align the horses and steady their advance once
through.


    Thaddius leaned into the tilt just enough to shoot the cart
through the turn. Most other riders would have steadied the
cart sooner, making sure both wheels were on the ground.
But not Thaddius. He knew this would lose precious seconds,
and in a race, each second defined your life or death.
    The team had gone around the track another two times
before Thaddius noticed the growing crowd of onlookers.
The men returned from the stables and lined up and down the
circus grounds to watch Thaddius do what he was famous
for: becoming one with the horse and cart.
    Deciding to end his adventure in style, Thaddius pulled
back on the reins and skidded the cart to a stop, mere feet
before the crowd. The dust from the sudden stop cloaked the
men around him. They coughed, trying to free it from their
lungs, and they batted at the air. Thaddius bounded off the
chariot and sauntered over to them.
“That is how you command a cart!” he bragged.
    Out of the corner of his eye he spotted Acestes walking
toward him.
“Apologies Dominus, but you have a visitor. And seeing
as you were occupied, I took the liberty of inviting him in.”
Acestes was careful to bow his head while approaching his
Dominus.
Thaddius squinted his eyes at the man, trying to gauge
who the visitor could possibly be. But when a voice spoke,
Thaddius required no introduction. He knew the visitor all
too well. He would recognize his ear-scratching voice
anywhere. Barachius.
“With a display like that, it really is a