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The referee was speaking to each team. Silence fell other than the champing of bits. Anthems were played. The ball was positioned. Ponies jostled, and Nero hooked the first play clear.
The players thundered down the field with Nero t
aking an early lead. He was easily the most skilful rider. But even Nero wasn’t invulnerable, and he couldn’t evade all the opposing team’s dirty tricks.
The other team’s sole aim appeared to be to ride Nero off the field, and when two horses came cannoning towards him Bella screamed out a warning along with the rest of the crowd.
Nero would never risk his horse. Nero would rather risk himself—
A collective sigh rose from the crowd as Nero corkscrewed out of trouble, but it had been a narrow escape and, as the game continued, Bella grew increasingly anxious. The opposition wasn’t interested in playing the game, they just wanted to create havoc with Nero in the centre of it. This wasn’t about an elbow in the ribs or a well-placed knee in an attempt to unseat him, every action they took was designed to put Nero Caracas out of the game for good.
Yet Nero had never appeared stronger or more in control, Bella thought, taking comfort from his confidence as he leapt effortlessly from the back of one pony to the next between chukkas. This required split-second timing between groom and rider, with the groom having the next pony ready when the tired pony came cantering in, and no way was she going to let anyone have this responsibility—this was hers, and for once in his life Nero didn’t have time to argue with her.
There was no basis for her sense of dread, Bella reasoned sensibly as the next chukka got underway. This was sport at the highest level and she couldn’t expect it to be soft or easy. She should just relax and enjoy it. To see Nero at full stretch like this was a rare indulgence. She was watching out for risks around him, anticipating trouble even before it occurred. Nero shared this sixth sense and he used it to wheel and dodge his way out of trouble, while he controlled the field of play and kept his pony safe.
She was beginning to relax and enjoy the match, and shouted herself hoarse with the rest of the crowd when Nero whacked a ball halfway down the pitch and went charging after it. The other riders were in hot pursuit, but not fast enough to stop Nero smacking a goal between the posts. Rapturous applause greeted him as the teams changed ends, and within moments Nero had galloped in at the end of the chukka to change his shirt. Tugging it over his head, he displayed an obscene wealth of muscle to which Bella had to appear unmoved. And as if that wasn’t bad enough, she now had to tell Nero something he wouldn’t want to hear. ‘I’ve substituted Colonel.’
‘No—’ Nero was scowling at the horse whose reins she was holding. ‘Colonel doesn’t have many matches left in him and I won’t deny him this game.’
‘But he’s in a lather, Nero.’ She shot an anxious glance towards the big bay it was taking two men to hold.
‘It’s your job to calm him down.’
And while she was still absorbing this piece of arrant nonsense, Nero mounted up.
‘Colonel has been waiting for this moment, haven’t you, boy?’ he crooned, and she had to grit her teeth as the pony became both instantly alert and instantly cooperative.
‘You’ll never tame him, Bella.’
Was Ignacio talking about Nero or the pony? she wondered. ‘It’s a fantastic match,’ she said distractedly. Even with Ignacio at her side, she had to brush off her growing sense of unease.
‘Don’t look so worried,’ Ignacio said, following her gaze onto the field. ‘Nero and Colonel have a special bond.’
She hoped so.
‘I just wish this game didn’t have to be quite so violent,’ she confessed, voicing her fears.
‘When you have some of the best players in the world on the field, competition is only to be expected,’ Ignacio told her with a shrug.
Yes, but this was more than competition, Bella thought. This was war.
She’d never had this much invested in a match before, Bella reasoned as she leaned on the fence to watch. Ignacio had remained with her as if he sensed she needed company. There was only one man Ignacio was interested in watching, and that was Nero. She realised Ignacio couldn’t have cared more deeply for Nero if he had been his own son.
‘We’re ahead,’ Ignacio cheered as Nero swung his polo mallet and fired off another goal. The applause was deafening, but this became the cue for the game to become even rougher, and the crowd groaned when one of the riders was unseated.
Bella stared anxiously onto the field and only relaxed when she could see that both pony and player were unharmed. Her gaze flew to Nero, whose expression was thunderous beneath his helmet. She guessed he was furious at the risks the opposing team were taking with their horses. He glanced towards her and patted Colonel’s neck as if he wanted to reassure her that they were both okay. She had to admit Colonel had never looked more alert or more impatient to enter the fray again. And Colonel’s rider had never looked so savage, or so brutally attractive. She found a smile, though her eyes must have betrayed her concern and, with a brief nod, Nero wheeled away.
They were well into the first play when the ball changed direction suddenly and a tightly bunched group of riders came thundering down the field towards Bella and Ignacio. Everything happened so fast—Ignacio grabbed her arm and threw her clear but, in doing so, he lost his balance as well as valuable seconds, while tons of horseflesh continued crashing towards them. Nero rode straight into the melee to save them. People were screaming as Bella went back to catch hold of Ignacio. Shoving him to the ground beneath her, she protected him with her body. For a moment it was all a terrible confusion of flailing hooves and rearing horses, with the additional obstacles of boots, feet, thighs, bridles and polo mallets. How they survived it, Bella would never know. Her first clear thought was seeing Ignacio safe on the other side of the fence as Nero swept her from the ground and threw them both clear of the mayhem. ‘Thank God,’ she gasped against his chest.
When she turned to look, everything was slowly returning to normal. Reins were being gathered up, boots stuck back in stirrups and horses were being turned by their riders to calm them and give each other space. It was only then that Bella realised Colonel was still on the ground. ‘I told you not to ride him,’ she cried out as grief and shock exploded inside her.
Dumping her on her feet, Nero returned to his horse. ‘Get away from him,’ he snapped when Bella would have joined them.
Ignoring Nero’s instruction, she quickly checked Colonel over. ‘I think he’s winded.’
‘And you know this for sure?’ Nero’s voice was ice. His eyes were unforgiving.
For some reason, Nero blamed her for this, Bella realised. ‘I’m using my professional judgement,’ she said as calmly as she could.
