Page 14 of My Trojan Horse Majesty

But when I glance back at the enclosure, I realize that in my flustered state, I didn’t close up the padlock on the gate. I could get in quickly, even with hay.

They seem to have figured out what I’m doing, and they take off at a run.

I hurl the hay at them, hoping to buy myself some time, and duck inside the gate. My hands aren’t working right, so when I try to lock the padlock. . .I drop it instead.

A terrible swear word escapes my mouth, not that they care.

The fear I feel as the men follow me into the pasture only grows as they get closer and closer. The little man’s holding something in his hand, and as he turns, I realize it’s a glistening metal gun of some kind.

My heart’s racing now and my hands are trembling. Drago has raced along the fence line beside me, and he’s standing still at my side, nostrils flared, breath coming in quick, angry puffs.

“These guys are bad,” I hiss. “Go.” I shoo my hands at the horse. “Run to the back of the pasture, now.”

He stomps one foot and whinnies loudly.

“What’s wrong with that horse?” the short one asks, waving his gun at Drago. “He sick?”

I nod shortly. “That’s why he’s in here. He’s sick, yes.”

The short man pauses. “Can humans get it?”

“Uh, yes,” I say. “They can.”

The man frowns.

The tall man mumbles something, but I can’t hear what he said.

Drago, almost like he’s taking advantage of their distraction, bumps me with his nose. Then he drops one shoulder.

“What are you doing?” I ask. “Run.”

I can only see his right eye, but I swear he rolls it. Then he drops his shoulder even farther, as if to say,Get on, idiot.

“You want me to get on your back?” I’ve lost my mind. I’m talking to a horse. . .and expecting him to understand me.

Henods.

A horsenoddedin response to my question.

But our reprieve’s gone. The men are coming at us again, and I have a quick decision to make. Slap the horse to get him away, or try climbing on his back in the hope they’ll be too afraid to follow me on a sick horse.

What’s the bigger threat?

Gun-wielding mobsters, or a maniac horse that already tried to kill me once today? I drag a breath in and swing up, grabbing his withers as best I can.

Egads,he’s tall.

It’s inelegant as all get out, but I manage to scramble onto his back, and what’s more, he doesn’t flip out or chuck me off, both of which would be very simple for him to do seeing as I have neither bridle nor saddle to help me stay on. Almost as soon as I gain my balance, Drago starts moving, but instead of runningawayfrom them, he charges.

I chose wrong. I chose wrong.I chose WRONG!

We’re racing at the men, but instead of shooting us, they duck out of the enclosure, swearing up a storm. In fact, they’re both using words I’ve never even heard before.

Drago isn’t satisfied with their retreat. Apparently he wants themgone.He pushes past the edge of the gate and keeps after them. I’m pulling on his mane, “Whoa, whoa, there boy.”

“Tell your horse to back off,” the short man says. “Or I’ll shoot.”

Drago doesn’t act like he understands English now, though. Not at all. He plows forward, rushing right at the tiny man who threatened to shoot us.

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