Spitfire

Three

Love me some violence. If you're not a fan of a good ol' scuffle, skip ahead.

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     Declan was waiting for her by Pipers stall.
     The dark haired boy was slightly taller than her, and Sage hated the way he seemed to loom above her. She also hated the way his dark eyes gleamed with poorly concealed hatred. The feeling was mutual.
     Declan had practically made it his mission in life to torment Sage because apparently, 'women didn't belong on the track'. The first time he'd said that to her face, she'd proven him wrong by besting him in a race on a horse who never should have won. That had caused quite the storm, talk of cheating and drugging the horse and all that. But no, Sage had won that race on a horse who'd never even placed before, with the worst odds, fair and square. Charlie liked to say she had the gift, but Sage knew better. Her life was nothing more than a string of leaps of faith and no small amount of luck. But now, it seemed her luck had indeed finally run out.
     "Heard you're riding O'Connors black little filly." He called out, watching her approach. She did so casually, but there was no mistaking the straight spine, her hands slightly away from her as she walked and came to lean against Pipers stall across from him. He was blocking the entrance, and she would not turn her back to him.
     Sage clucked her tongue, "She's actually pretty big. Stands at around seventeen hands, and I imagine she'll grow a bit more in the months to come."
     Declan scowled at her, "Semantics." He gritted out.
     "Not quite." Sage replied sweetly, giving him that sultry smile that drove him into a frenzy. She straightened, spreading her feet apart in a steady stance, "So, are we going to stand here and talk all day like civilized folk? Or are we going to finish this the old way?"
     Sage didn't like the sneer that twisted Declan's lips, but she forced herself to swallow the nausea in her throat and give him one of her nastier smiles. She barely had time to dodge the first throw. She narrowly darted away from the fist that was aimed at her face and she ducked again. Fight smart, her father used to say, every opponent has his tells. Sage anticipated the next blow, ducking in time to whip right back with an elbow at close range, and then they were grappling.
     They'd gotten into scuffles before, but this was different. More vicious somehow, more brutal. The intent was different, she realized, as his fist connected with her cheek and she returned the favor, hardly registering the pain. He wanted to incapacitate her, he wanted to beat her badly enough that she wouldn't be able to ride.
     The thought nearly drove her blind with rage, and she took the hit to her ribs, not entirely knowing if the crunching noise was real or imagined, and retaliated. Sage brought her knee up, and fist connecting with his nose, as she definitely did not imagine the crunching noise going on up there, and simultaneously shoved him off balance. She gave him a boot to the ribs and spat on him. "Touch me again, and Ill rip your rutting throat out." She snarled.
     Declan didn't deign to reply, but his eyes were alight with hatred, and Sage turned her back to him, limping into Pipers stall. He nickered softly, concerned eyes inquisitive as he pressed his nose into her palms, huffing softly.
     "You mother hen." Sage chuckled hoarsely, leaning into his comforting warmth as she stroked his head. "You and Aisling both." Piper snorted softly, and Sage tacked up, hauling herself into the saddle as the pair began the long walk home.

* * * * *

     Sophie stood quietly–or what was considered quiet for her–bowing her neck as she toyed with the bit in her mouth, shifting her weight constantly. All four legs were adorned with red vet wrap and electrical tape with rundown patches to prevent abrasions at the fetlock. Polo wraps absorbed moisture too easily which made them heavy and could lead to them sliding down a horses leg. Trace bandages were too risky and susceptible to unravelling in the middle of a gallop. Sage had witnessed riders and horses go down hard because a wrap unravelled in the middle of a gallop. Better to stick with the tried and true, and she had Charlie to commend for that. The old man was a wealth of knowledge and experience, he'd been in the racing industry longer than Sage had been alive.
     "Morning Charlie." She said, hating the way her voice came out as a hoarse rasp. She didn't look at him, but she knew he'd caught sight of her face when she heard a muffled string of very colorful curse words.
     "So the rumors are true. Declan sure got you good girl, although i haven't seen him around this morning." He said, turning to look around as if he'd spot him any minute.
     Sage barked a laugh, turning to meet Charlie's eye, "You should've seen his face. He won't be walking around here for awhile."
     Charlie gave her a look of approval. "Atta girl. Can you ride the horse?"
     Sage nodded curtly. "I can ride her." She said, buckling her helmet and accepting a leg up even as her ribs barked in pain. She hissed out a breath, I can master this, she thought, gritting her teeth as she slid her feet into the stirrups and gathered her reins.
     "Lorne will pony you out. He should be here, any second...ah! There he is. Alright, I want you to breeze her a lap, just get a feel for her speed and the way she runs."
     Sage nodded silently, watching as Lorne approached on a chestnut outrider pony. Surprisingly, Sage found herself missing Aisling. She still needed to thank her for the warning.
     Lorne came sidled up to them, taking the lead rope as they jigged onto the track. He glanced at her, and did a double take. "What the hell happened to your face?"
     Sage gave him a bitter smile, ignoring the pain it sent skittering across her mouth and cheek. "You should've seen the other guy. This is what happens to the girl who steals other peoples rides." She said, adding more snark to her words than she realized.
     Lorne glanced at her, something unwritten on his face, and in that moment she didn't care to decipher it. Sage gave him one long look, and bared her teeth.
     Something flashed in his eyes, and Sophie danced beneath her, gaining a few steps as Sage's strength began to fray. The toll of her scuffle with Declan and a terrible night's sleep was catching up with her, and it took everything she had to deal with the filly's antics. Sage gritted her teeth, not letting the pain in her ribs or knuckles show as she moved the filly away from Lorne and into a trot along the rail.
     Her arms sighed with release as she gave Sophie her head. The filly's strides were wondrously smooth, her lead changes like liquid. It was like a balm to her soul, the cool wind in her face and a horse beneath her and the sky above her. When Sage felt satisfied that the filly was warmed up, she let her go.
     That familiar trickle of rage trailed down her spine as they hurtled down the track, and this time she gave in, ignoring the stitch in her side as she pushed her fingers up the filly's neck until they were so entangled in her mane that you couldn't tell where horse stopped and human began.
     Sophie roared into a thunderous gallop, both hearts beating wildly as they charged down the straightaway and rounded the turn. Sophie didn't falter on the backstretch, not once did she stumble or hitch a step or bobble a stride. Sage didn't have to ask as she rounded the final turn and kicked into a higher gear. She didn't realize that the filly could go faster, but Sage couldn't be bothered to wonder how fast the filly really was when she was preoccupied with not falling off. They turned onto the final stretch and she finally felt her strength slipping so quickly and violently that she couldn't do anything but hope Charlie got the time as they passed the line. And then her muscles were giving out, and her legs failing her. Sage pulled up, knowing how messy it looked as she finally brought Sophie grinding to a halt. She dropped her stirrups, slumping slightly against the filly's neck as she struggled to catch her breath.
     "You alright?"
     Sage didn't look towards Lorne, as she forced herself to sit up, shoving her feet back in the stirrups. "Yeah, I'm fine." She replied, finally turning towards him but not quite meeting his eye, "Just catching my breath. Is Charlie upset? Did I do the wrong distance?"
     Lorne pursed his lips, surveying her with an unreadable gaze. "No, that was a good time, and you rode her perfectly. But for a moment after you crossed the wire i thought you were going to fall." He said, giving her a funny look, "And you're not fine. What happened?"
     "Declan happened." Sage muttered, beginning the process of untangling her fingers from Sophies mane. She probably should talk to Charlie about pulling it. "He's just upset that I got this filly as my ride. He'll get over it."
     "What?" Lorne sputtered, "Declan did that? Just because you got the filly?" He asked incredulously.
     Sage turned to him with a deadpan stare. "Yes. It's Declan." She replied exasperatedly. "It's not the first time, and besides, none of the other jockeys will do anything. Declan the only one with the stupidity to cross me."
     "Because otherwise you'll steal their rides." Lorne breathed, studying her as if he could figure her out right then and there.
     Sage shrugged. "Declan actually made that rumor. I just let it work in my favor." She replied nonchalantly.
     Lorne gaped at her. "You're insane. Everyone here is insane."
     Sage raised an eyebrow and gave him quizzical look. "Aren't we all? I think in order to work with half ton animals running at sixty kilometers per hour you need to be at least a little insane." She said evenly. Sage didn't wait for a reply as she nudged Sophie forward, ignoring the stitch in her side as they trotted to where Charlie waited. She was really craving a bagel right about now.

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I ALMOST FORGOT THE BAGEL