Four Horses For Tishtry by Chelsea Quinn Yarbro Page B

it once, and you know how the crowd roared for it.” She grinned eagerly. “That would be sure to please Balbo, and it will please Barantosz.”
    Atadillius winked. “Your master has good reason to flatter the Romans; they buy most of his horses and mules.”
    “Fine. Then I will do what I can.” She was brushing down her team’s coats, going over the hair until it was free of dust. “Theylike this best, I think. They’re as bad as cats.”
    “They’re much bigger than cats,” Atadillius observed. “Don’t be too obvious with Balbo. He has that Roman tendency to like flattery unless heknows that’s what it is, and then he hates it.” He folded his arms. “Barantosz has given me permission to work with you in the winter, strengthening your routine.”
    “So I can keep the crowds coming next year?” Tishtry askedwith a sigh. “If you think it’s wise, I suppose I ought to do it.”
    Finally Atadillius could keep the idea to himself no longer. “No, not so you can keep the crowd here happy next year. Next year, if you work well,we will take you to another amphitheater. How would you like to perform in the arena at Troas?”
    “Troas?” Tishtry stopped brushing. “Do you mean that?”
    “Naturally. I know better than to offer you base coin, Tishtry. I think that if you take a little more time and work very hard, you will be appreciated in Troas even more than you have been here.”
    Tishtry frowned. “I will have to convince Barantosz that it would be worth his while to do it.” The prospect of trying to persuade her master to spend more money was not pleasant, and she shook her head. “I don’t know if I can.”
    “I’ll take care of that part,” Atadillius assured her. “He will listen to me because he knows that I know the Games.”
    “I hope so. He’s been getting more nervous of late. He told one of the other charioteers that he wants to see a better return on me.” She cocked her head to the side. “You’re not trying to trick him, are you? He’s a strange little man, but hehas an ugly temper when tried, and he’s been vindictive.”
    It was obvious that Atadillius doubted this. “I won’t give him cause.”
    “See that you don’t. You’re a freedman, but I’m still a slave, and if he decides to send mehome, there’s nothing I can do about it. If he sends mehome, that’s the end of it—I don’t have enough money to buy my freedom, let alone the freedom of my family. As long as I wear a collar, I can’t choose for myself.”
    “True, but as long as you wear a collar, you can perform in the arena. Once you’re free, those days are over,” Atadillius reminded her. “Slaves and convicts only are permitted to appear in the arena.”
    Tishtry nodded. “I don’t mind that part. When I have done all that I can, I will buy my freedom and ... oh, I don’t know. If I’ve done well enough, I suppose I could hire out as a trainer, or set myself up as a trick riding teacher. But I’d have to do more than perform here for that to work, wouldn’t I?”
    “Probably,” Atadillius said carefully, giving Tishtry a measuring look. “You’re ambitious, are you?”
    She did not answer at once; she had not considered the question before. “I suppose I am. At first it was enough to earn the money to free my family, and myself, later on, but not so much anymore. When I think of my performing days ending here, I get angry, and not just because it would mean I’d be a slave all my life.”
    “Those can be dangerous thoughts, girl,” Atadillius warned her. “They can get you into trouble.”
    “Yes”—she put her hands on her hips—“I know that, Atadillius. That’s why I warned you about Barantosz. If he guessed that I want more than he wants to give me, I’d be back in Cappadocia before the moon was full again.”
    Atadillius sighed. “I’ll be cautious. I’ve said that I would be.” He paused a moment, then said, “What if he were to sell you, what then?”
    “It would