#51- The Emperor’s Chariot – THE LEGEND OF THE GREAT HORSE trilogy

19 centuries ago …

“How are the omens, my Master of Horse?”

A puny man near the front of the platform jumped as if prodded. He stood quickly, his oversized garments in disarray. “Very good, Caesar, very good. The horses are ready and the omens are with us, favored son of gods. Victory should be ours.”

The platform’s audience clapped dutifully. The man called Caesar shifted in his seat. “So you always say, Master of Horse. So it never is.”

Trumpet blasts sounded across the stadium. On the oval sand track below, men in red tunics marched forward pounding drums and cymbals. Chariots entered, appointed in red and drawn by surging teams of four horses. The drivers turned and saluted the platform as they passed. Anxious as she was, Meagan was stirred by the pageantry flowing across the track.

Cheering rose for a new entering color. Caesar stood as riders in green tunics rode forth between columns of marching men. The first chariot to appear was pulled by four black horses, their manes woven in matching emerald ribbon.

A gasp went up from the spectators as one of the horses rose in his traces. The animal was satin black with the thick crest of a stallion. The horse struck his partner and the team swerved out of line as kicks hammered the chariot. Dull thuds echoed across the field. Men flooded the track and stretched ropes before the fighting horses.

From the raised center of the platform, stone-faced Caesar watched.

As those on the track worked to subdue the fighting horses, the man called the Master of Horse groaned piteously and covered his face. Caesar gave the shriveled man a long, chilly stare, then abruptly stood and made his way across the deck, followed by his guards.

“Emperor Trajan…” the olive-skinned man beside Meagan called respectfully. “We have the slaves you pardoned. Will you assign them?”

Meagan felt a hand at her back as she was pushed forward…