Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 137958 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 690(@200wpm)___ 552(@250wpm)___ 460(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137958 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 690(@200wpm)___ 552(@250wpm)___ 460(@300wpm)
They raced around the edges opposite each other, and I felt my lips curl up when they met at the other end, looking like they were going to crash into each other.
But they rode between each line so near, the snap of the material of cloaks striking against one another cracked through the air and a collective gasp went through the crowd.
Again at the middle of the stands opposite the podium, the riders cut down the middle, breaking again in half in front of the podium, streaming down the edge of the stands, meeting again on the middle in the other side, and cutting in again.
This time to take formation.
Intricately.
And perfectly.
When the five hundred horses and riders in five rows, one hundred across, faced the nine women spread at the front—Mother, her lieutenants, Serena’s and mine—who had their backs to the podium, the Sisterhood facing it, the horses all stood in pristine lines, at sides, and front to back.
Lines so perfect, if you stood at the back, front or end, you could only see the horse and rider before you, not the ones beyond.
It was then, I heard my mother shouting, “Staffs!”
And every Nadirii sister pulled her staff out of its sheath at the back right of her saddle and whipped it in a circle in the air over her head.
They then pounded them down as one in the dirt at their right sides, and at each end, a flash of coral and purple sparks rose up high, glinting over the end of their staffs into the air, this to another, deeper gasp of the crowd.
“To the left!” Mother commanded.
Staffs lifted, every horse as one took one step to left, the riders circled their staffs over their heads and then pounded them in a shower of sparks to the dirt at their left.
“To the right!”
And again, this same routine, this time to the right.
“Staff rest, Nadirii!” Mother ordered.
All the staffs were lifted, twirled in a blur overhead, and again, and again. Then, in unison, elbows bent, and the staffs were twirled over the hind end of the horses again and again. And then as one they were brought to the left side and twirled again and again, and finally over the head where this was repeated to the right.
And simultaneously they were all re-sheathed, the collective crack of staff into scabbard breaking through the air.
“Bows to the left!” Julia yelled.
The entire left side of two-hundred and fifty Nadirii tore their bows off their backs.
“Take aim!” Julia shouted.
With precise movements timed to be performed as one, each of the left side of the Nadirii pulled an arrow out of her quiver, also at their backs, and fed the nock to the string.
The bows were lifted, aimed to the sky to the left.
“Fire!” Lucinda bellowed.
Another collective gasp sounded as the arrows soared into the air.
But it was calls of shock and cries of wonder when they exploded into bright, giant blooms of coral and purple sparks lighting up the night.
“Bows to the right!” Agnes yelled.
The right side of the formation responded.
“Take aim!” Agnes shouted.
They took aim.
“Fire!” Melisse roared.
And more arrows went soaring to the heavens before great starbursts formed.
“Fire at will!” my mother thundered.
The Sisterhood complied, and the sky lit up in flashes of orange, coral, white, gold, amethyst and violet light.
The oos and ahs of the crowd layered over each other and didn’t quite silence when Lucinda yelled, “To the left!” at the same time Agnes shouted, “To the right!” and the display overhead ceased as horse and rider of each company took five steps as ordered, opening a column in the middle of the formation.
The Sisterhood replaced their bows at their backs.
It was time.
Diana was ready.
As was I.
Collectively, the Sisterhood cried, “Nadirii!” ending this with our shrill war cry.
And Serena and I burst forth down the back of the line.
We turned at the open column in the middle and rode down, side by side.
I didn’t have the chance to see who was on the podium, but even if I had, I did not have that in my head.
As we raced straight to our mother, sitting proud on her white steed in front of us, I thought nothing. I was nothing.
But the Sisterhood.
And my mother’s daughter.
So when we made it nearly to her, we cut our reins and Serena went right.
I went left.
We speeded around the edge of the coliseum.
Moments before we would meet at the back, we pulled our staffs.
As we passed, one armed, we clacked our staffs violently at the front, the noise resounding through the arena, before we whipped our staffs around the smalls of our back, and traded them, staff for staff, at our backs.
I pressed over Diana’s neck, the wind in my hair making it wing down my back, my thighs relaxed giving Diana her head, and I rode her at breakneck speed. When Serena and I met at the podium, right before our mother, we clacked our staffs at the front and returned each other’s staffs at our backs.