Seventh Dimension - The King - Book 2, A Young Adult Fantasy (25 page)

The lead horse
set the pace. I maneuvered my chariot around those chariots closest
to me, even though it cost me valuable time

The horses came out of the first turn and the
stadium vibrated. Dust filled the track making it difficult to
see.

Suddenly the
rider on the chariot in front of me fell. I snapped the reins to
the left and swerved. Could the chariots behind me avoid running
over him? Officials dispatched the medics to retrieve the fallen
gladiator. The unmanned chariot overturned. I passed it as the
hapless horses kept going. I forged ahead.

The crowds
stomped and screamed. The excitement escalated. Blood spilt made
the fans thirsty for more.

Before the
second dangerous turn, I pulled up alongside three others. Two of
the racers were nearer the spina and galloped ahead. One tried to
force the other into the center. The columns and statues created
deadly obstacles.

The team to my
right edged perilously close. I cracked the whip. The horses
responded. Clenching the whip between my teeth, I held the reins
with both hands. I used every ounce of strength I possessed to
guide the horses away from the reckless charioteer who wanted to
bump me.

The other
chariots to my left lurched forward. The leader was still
undetermined. I rushed to fill the gap.

We careened
around the third turn. The charioteer to my right pressed in on me.
The horses felt it and sped up. My heart thumped louder.

We were on the
far side of the track when two chariots slammed into each other.
One of the gladiators had slashed his competitor with the whip. The
second one retaliated. The chariots sped down the raceway out of
control and overturned. I galloped over bloodied arms and legs.
Horses’ cries and the screech of splitting metal filled the
stadium.

Soon the first
dolphin fell. Six chariots remained with six more laps to
go.

Two chariots
passed me. I couldn’t tell where I was. If three were in front,
that meant two were behind me.

The second
dolphin fell. Five more laps to go. I heard another chariot
crash—must have been behind me. I didn’t see anything straight
ahead.

I soon passed
the wreckage of two overturned chariots. The medics had already
carted off the bodies. Did that mean three other chariots were
still in the race? I couldn’t be sure.

Another dolphin dropped, four more laps to go. Dust
and carnage covered large portions of the track. Medics ran out to
retrieve the injured or dead, time permitting. Maybe I could win by
attrition.

I urged my
horses to go faster but avoided the use of the whip. They obeyed.
My confidence grew. I approached another chariot. The gladiator
charged into my path, resisting my encroachment. The determination
to win had now turned to viciousness. I would wait. We rounded the
curve. I was too close. If he wrecked, I would hit him. I backed
off. I tried to ease to the middle. The charioteers closed the
narrowing gap. Tariq and Nidal ferociously held their positions.
The hysteria reminded me of a soccer game. I saw my opportunity to
take the lead dwindling. I was so close with only three other
charioteers in the race.

Another dolphin fell. Three more laps to go.

One of the Naser brothers exited the track by the
stables. Something must have happened.

The dust had
settled with fewer horses. I must avoid the carnage to finish. I
stayed as close to the spina as I dared. Two charioteers were still
in the race.

Two more laps to go.

I urged my horses to charge. They responded. I
passed another chariot. I was second gaining on the leader.

Another dolphin fell. One more lap to go.

The roaring
crowds wanted a climactic finish. My horses tasted victory—and they
were hungry. I slapped my reins but didn’t strike the animals with
the whip. They seemed to whip themselves.

We rounded the
final bend. I was side by side with the only charioteer left. His
eyes met mine. He whipped his horses. I urged mine to surge
ahead.

We gained. The
out-of-control crowd stood and cheered as the finish line
approached. In a last-second display of determined strength, we
edged out the leader.

The dolphin fell. We’d won!

The crowd went
crazy. I waved at the cheering fans and looked for Cynisca but
didn’t see her. A mob had congregated around the judges’ tables.
The betting arena was thick with patrons. No one seemed
happy.

Why wasn’t
anyone congratulating me? The slaves who took care of the horses
approached.

“Didn’t I win?” I asked.

“Your win is being contested by the Naser
brothers.”

“Why?”

“They say you cheated.”

Anger welled
up. I bolted over to the judge’s area, dodging fans and others in
my way. An angry protest had grown and harsh voices shouted over
one another.

I saw Cynisca. She was talking to an official. I ran
up to her.

The VIP said, “We need to let the judges decide if
he meant to cheat. Since it’s his first race, they may let him off
with just a fine, calling it a foul. You need to make sure your
team knows the rules.”

“Caesar! My
team knows the rules.”

The man crossed his arms. “You may but your
gladiator doesn’t.”

“What’s the
matter?” I asked. “What did I do wrong? I won—didn’t I?”

Cynisca glared at me. “One of the Naser brothers
claims you cheated and has asked that your win be stripped.”

I stared at Cynisca. “What did I do?”

“Why did you
not wrap the reins around your waist as you did in
practice?”

That was the
infraction? “Attaching the reins to the waist makes it easier to
slap the horses with the whip. I don’t have to do that.”

“But it’s the
tradition in Roman racing to tie them around your
waist.”

“What difference does it make?”

Cynisca
shrugged. “It shouldn’t make any, but I sure wished you’d done it
the way you were trained. Why would you change things on your first
race without asking?”

I shook my
head. “I didn’t think it was a big deal. I just decided to hold the
reins. Maybe I was nervous, I don’t know.”

Dominus
approached us with great difficulty in the crowds. It was the first
time I had seen him today. He looked angrier than a savage shark.
He yelled at Cynisca, “Why didn’t you train Daniel
properly?”

“I did,” Cynisca protested. “He changed it on his
own.”

His bulging
eyes blasted fiery torpedoes at me. I didn’t want to look at him.
“I’m sorry.”

“You ask before
you do anything different from how you’ve been trained, boy.
Understand?”

“Yes.”

“I’m facing a fine now, and they could disqualify
you from further racing.”

I hung my head,
unable to think. Cynisca walked off leaving me alone. I felt
dejected and humiliated. I went and sat in a corner to wait for the
official’s ruling.

The crowd had
become antsy. They wanted a winner announced. I threw my helmet
down on the ground and watched it roll away. What a wasted effort,
all because I held the reins rather than attaching them to my
waist.

The stadium
noise shot up another notch. A winner had been shouted over the
commotion. I hurried over to see the decision. Cynisca shook her
head.

Who won? I
walked up to the judges’ table and saw the official result. Tariq
Naser, followed by several names I didn’t recognize—all of whom had
either died or been knocked out of the race. They didn’t even
record my name.

The crowd had
gone wild, throwing food and personal items over the seats of other
patrons. Roman soldiers had gone up into the stands to bring order.
Fighting had spread among the fans and the chaos
swelled.

I glanced at
Pontius Pilate who stood watching. Many in the stands were chanting
my name. Most fans were unhappy that Tariq stood in the spina to
receive the laurel crown and not me.

Could I do anything to quiet them? This was my fault
and if anyone got hurt, I would feel responsible.

Much to my relief, after several minutes, the Roman
soldiers brought order, removing those who were inciting the
others.

Preparations were under way for the second race. The
delay had given the attendants more time to clear the debris from
the track.

I walked over
and sat by the entrance—wishing I could do it over again. I tried
to look at the positive side. I wasn’t dead like the gladiators
carted off. I’d live to race anther day.

A few minutes
later, the young girl to whom I had given the toy horse walked
towards me. I was surprised she found me, but I suppose in my
racing outfit, I wasn’t that hard to spot. She handed me a
box.

“What is this?” I asked her.

“Open it,” she
said. I glanced behind her, and her father and brother were
watching us a short distance away. I couldn’t imagine what was in
the box. I opened it and pulled out a laurel crown.

“Where did you get this?”

“God told me to give it to you,” she said in
Aramaic.

I turned the
crown over and examined it. It looked identical to the one won by
the winners.

“It’s beautiful. Thank you.”

“It’s yours,” the girl said.

I grinned. “I need all the luck I can get. Thank
you.”

She nodded and ran back to her father and brother. I
waved at them and mouthed, “Thank you.” They waved back and headed
to their seats.

What a special gift that I didn’t deserve.

One Week Later

Gossip about
the way the officials had stripped my win made the headlines
throughout Caesarea. Many thought it was unfair. Others sided with
the Naser brothers. No doubt, the debacle created more interest in
the races for the following week and a sympathy factor for my team.
Everyone wanted to know about the Jewish gladiator who had
instigated the controversy.

When Dominus
realized many fans believed I was disqualified unfairly, he eased
up on the verbal thrashings.

Cynisca had
taken to repeating instructions, which created tension between us.
She no longer trusted me. I’d have to earn that back. Still, I was
excited to race again.

Something else
was different. The Naser brothers didn’t let me out of their sight
in the hippodrome. They knew I could beat them.

I had won the
hearts of many even though Tariq had been declared the official
winner. To lose the sympathy vote of the fans on a technicality had
been at great cost, probably more than the brothers had
anticipated. The accusation of cheating had deepened the loyalty
factor for those who supported me. I had fans who wanted me to win
as payback.

I surmised the reason the older brother had left the
race was to tell the officials of my infraction, ensuring the
younger brother would be declared the winner by default.

I had to let it
go and move on. I sat in the stall talking to the horses, Mosi and
Oni, as the slaves prepped them for the race. Today both horses
would have their mane braded with pearls.

I stroked Mosi’s neck. “You run like you did last
week and we will win. You are the fastest horse—except for Oni.” I
smiled. “And the strongest.”

The slave nodded as he brushed the horse’s mane.
“You will win today. I know it.”

I chuckled. “Thanks for believing in me.”

Everything
happened as before, with the introductions and formalities. The
hippodrome was packed even more than the previous week. I would be
racing fifth.

My race time
came and the crowd responded with loud cheers when the announcer
shouted my name above the roars. Fans clapped. Surprised by the
show of support, I didn’t want to disappoint them.

The middle gate
was a better position from which to start. I made sure to attach
the reins around my waist. I checked repeatedly that the knife was
secure in the sheath if I needed it.

Once again, Pontius Pilate was the official
handkerchief dropper. At the sound of the trumpet, he dropped the
mappa. The gates opened and we were off.

I held the whip in my hand but never touched the
horses. They ran like the wind. I sensed the horses of the past in
them, the great ones that pulled the chariots of the one true
God.

Maybe the
horses’ bloodlines even went back to the horses of Elijah and
Elisha. The animals ran as heavenly spirits. Their passion, power,
and splendor radiated in every step they took. I looked out into
the stands. Cheers and applause swept away any doubt about who was
the fastest.

The first
dolphin fell. There were no horses or chariots to dodge, though I
heard the splintering of wood and clashing of metal behind me. The
medics descended on the track to clear the carnage. Where were the
Naser brothers? I remembered the story of Sodom and Gomorrah. I
shouldn’t look back.

Each lap around the track, a dolphin fell, bringing
me closer to victory. Anticipation rose—and so did my heart rate. I
wanted this more than I had ever wanted anything. I coaxed Mosi and
Oni to keep going, not to let up, that the race was ours to
win.

We rounded the
final bend on the final lap and approached the finish line. I
looked straight ahead. As we approached, the heavens opened.
Rushing wind swooped down on the hippodrome and lifted the chariot.
It seemed as if we were racing on air effortlessly. Peels of
thunder reverberated overhead and blazing rays of light poured out
of the sky. Was I driving a chariot of God? We crossed the finish
line to the deafening crescendo of roaring crowds that shook the
stadium. I raised my hands triumphantly.