Four Horses for Tishtry
“Startled, she straightened up, releasing the bay’s leg as she did. “Yes?” She glanced out of the stall to see who had addressed her.
“You are Tishtry, the Armenian charioteer?” the man said, his regular features giving no hint of his emotions. He wore a linen dalmatica belted with gold, and there was a signet ring on his middle finger. His brown hair had been curled, and he smelled faintly of lilac and nutmeg.
“Yes.” She made a gesture of respect wondering as she did so why a high—ranking Roman would wish to have words with her.
“I am Gnaeus Calpurnius.” he said, as if this should mean something to her.
“It is an honor to speak with you, sir,” she responded in as gracious a manner as she knew, though she was still puzzled.
“I’ve seen you work, both in the ring and in the arena. You’re very good.” He smiled at her. “I’ve seen many charioteers and stunt riders in my day, and you promise to be one of the best ever.”
Write Review:
User Reviews: