Page 70 of The Dragoneers of Longbourn and Pemberley
Kesley shrugged, and tied the tethers with a fresh rope.
They did manage to get some rest and refreshment in the next hours. Valeraine went off to change into her costume, and Kesley hid to pretend he was the masked rider.
Valeraine waited until just before the derby was starting to emerge from her hiding spot. She didn’t want to give anyone the chance to speak to her and look at her too closely. The disguise was wearing thin already, but in the air it shouldn’t matter that she didn’t match Kesley’s build. It would be too chaotic for anyone to be taking measurements. At least their hair colors were close.
Valeraine untethered Lelantos, and climbed up into the saddle. She was wearing Papa’s flying leathers, adjusted carefully with the help of Kesley. She was armored now, and a rope securely tied her to the saddle. Her dragon shifted on his feet, neck whipping around at every growl or screech from the other tetchy dragons. Lelantos gave a warning yip to a green dragon who looked at him for a little too long. Valeraine let it slide without discipline. If he wasn’t breathing fire, she would take that as a resounding success of self-control.
On this derby course, they would be flying to a small bridge and back. The bridge had a collection of rags tied to it, and each rider would have to untie and collect one to prove they had gone all the way to the midpoint. Maybe this was to combat cheating, but Valeraine suspected it was extreme. The dragoneers were watching each other, and if a winner didn’t complete the full course there would always be a competitor ready to report him. This system would cut down on those confrontations, which was likely the goal.
She suspected it would make the bottleneck at the checkpoint much worse, and the fights there more intense. Each rider would have to climb down, procure a rag, and climb back on their dragon. That was a lot of time for the nest-tetchy dragons to be parked next to each other, untethered and away from the reach of their riders.
The horn sounded to start the race.
Chapter forty-eight
The Pemberley derby had begun. Lelantos took to the air, surrounded by over a dozen other dragons. They had been spaced widely enough that there was room for everyone to maneuver up, and for the first few seconds there were no fights between the dragons. The watching crowd jeered their disappointment. The fights at the beginning of a derby were typically the most spectacular, and the most easily seen by the spectators.
If Valeraine was going to have a chance at winning, she needed to leverage Lelantos’ strengths. With his large wingspan, he could easily climb into the air. That height could be turned into speed during dives. She flicked the reins up, directing her dragon higher. He obliged, accustomed to this from their training. He was determined, focused.
Then, that moment ended. They were passing a green dragon in the air — one that Lelantos had already exchanged not-so-pleasantries with. The dragon called a challenge, and Lelantoscalled one back, and swerved on a course to attack. They were suddenly not going up, but swooping to the side.
Valeraine considered letting the fight happen. The green dragon was small, and Lelantos could likely bash it out of the sky with little danger to himself. It would be one less competitor in the race.
No. She didn’t want to be that kind of dragoneer.
She directed Lelantos with her knees and reins back on track, and he gave up his hunt of the little green with a huff. They continued their climb.
Valeraine peered around Lelantos’ body, looking for the dragons below them. They were around sixth place now. With their advantage of elevation, she could easily dive down and take first place. They would have to time it well, to get to the midway checkpoint as fast as possible. The longer they took at the checkpoint, the more chance the bottleneck of dragons would catch them in fights.
Pemberley’s burgundy dragon was in first place. He was obviously using the home advantage to its fullest: a focused dragon, confident in its domain.
It would be fine to do the checkpoint rag-grab with Pemberley’s dragon nearby. It wouldn’t attack, so long as Lelantos didn’t bite first. Valeraine trusted Pemberley enough for that, that his dragon would be well mannered at its nest.
She urged Lelantos ever faster, and he obliged. She could feel his lungs bellowing, pumping and burning. He was going at the upper limit of his abilities. She didn’t know whether she should cheer him on or worry for his health. She shouted, “Go, Lelantos! You’re amazing!” and hoped that the dragon would be wise enough to slow down if he truly needed a break. But she also hoped he could maintain this speed and coup them first place, showing Pemberley just how capable Longbourn was.
The snowy landscape passed below them, miles of fields, stretching far into the horizon. The number of tenants supported by Pemberley house was staggering. This was the kind of wealth that thirty-one dragons provided.
Valeraine spotted the little stream which her course would soon be crossing, and knew the bridge with the checkpoint rags must be nearby. The spot was carefully chosen, next to a rugged hillside free of trees, an easy place for many dragons to land. As Lelantos dived closer, she saw the colorful handkerchiefs looped in the bridge’s handrail.
Pemberley was landing in the field moments before Lelantos swooped in.
Valeraine was second, now. She was already sliding from the dragon’s back before he had settled on the ground and ran for the bridge.
Pemberley reached the bridge a moment before she did. He started undoing the knot of a rag. He said, “Longbourn,” as greeting.
Valeraine slid to a stop on the icy bridge. “Pemberley,” she returned. Her hand found the dagger sheathed in her leathers and cut a rag free, immediately turning and sprinting back to her dragon, slipping a little on the ice as she did.
She clambered back up on Lelantos. Before she was truly settled, he was already taking to the sky, and she gripped the saddle tightly as she secured her tether in the turbulence of his ascension.
The pack of dragons was coming straight for them. She urged Lelantos higher, dodging above the competition.
Valeraine was almost relaxed as they stopped climbing and cruised forward. Dragons were quarreling behind her, and Lelantos was leaving them all behind. She smirked. Their lead was secure, with the other riders bogged down in that mess. They just needed to beat Pemberley. She looked behind her inthe air, searching for his deep red beauty. She saw instead below and behind her a white dragon of sharp points, gaining on her. Rosings had avoided the jam at the halfway point.
Where was Pemberley? Had he been slowed by the pack? She finally saw him below and in front of her, in first. She would not be bested by him. He would be proven right in all his insults against her house if he won.
She needed to reclaim her lead. A dive would do it in the short-term, but he would just pull ahead again. Lelantos wasn’t flying as fast as he had in the first half of the race, his exhaustion wearing him down. He could ascend and cruise better than any of his young competition, but sprinting was more than his old bones could handle for long.
Lelantos shook, bucking violently. Valeraine almost lost her seat in the saddle. A bolt of anger coursed through them. She grabbed the pommel to steady her and looked around frantically. What had set him off?
