jamesclavell.noblehouse-第279部分

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e　a　look　at　your　dingledangle！〃
　Travkin　on　Noble　Star　was　nearby。　The　filly　had　got　the　stallion's　scent　and　it　had　unsettled　her。　Before　Travkin　could　prevent　it　she　twisted　and　backed　and　shoved　her　rump　carelessly　into　Pilot　Fish　who　swerved；　startled；　to　bump　the　outsider　Winning　Billy；　a　bay　gelding　moving　up　to　his　gate。　The　gelding　skeetered；　shook　his　head　angrily　and　whirled　away　for　a　few　paces；　almost　trampling　Lochinvar；　another　brown　gelding。
　〃Get　that　bugger　under　control；　Alexi；　for　chrissake！〃
　〃Just　stay　out　of　my　way；　ublyudok；〃　Travkin　muttered；　his　knees　conscious　of　the　untoward　tremors　racing　through　Noble　Star。　He　sat　very　high；　part　of　his　mount；　stirrups　short；　and　he　wondered；　cursing；　if　Pilot　Fish's　trainer　had　smeared　some　of　the　stallion's　musk　onto　his　chest　and　flanks　to　agitate　the　mare　and　fillies。　It's　an　old　trick；　he　thought；　very　old。
　〃e　on！〃　the　starter　called　out；　his　voice　stentorian。　〃Gentlemen；　get　your　mounts　into　their　stalls！〃
　Several　were　already　there；　Butterscotch　Lass；　the　brown　mare　still　heavily　the　favorite；　was　pawing　the　ground；　nostrils　flared；　excitement　of　the　ing　race　and　the　nearness　of　the　stallion　sending　shiver　after　shiver　through　her。　She　had　stall　eight　from　the　rails；　Pilot　Fish　now　entering　the　stall　in　post　position　one。　Winning　Billy　had　stall　three　between　Street　Vendor　and　Golden　Lady；　and　the　smell　of　them　and　the　stallion's　brazen　challenge　tore　the　gelding's　mind。　Before　the　gate　could　close　behind　him　he　backed　out　and；　once　free；　fought　the　bit　and　reins；　shaking　his　head　violently　from　side　to　side；　twirling　like　a　dancer　on　the　slippery　turf；　almost　colliding　with　Noble　Star　who　swerved　deftly　out　of　the　way。
　〃Alexi；　e　along！〃　the　starter　called　out。　〃Hurry　it　up！〃
　〃Yes；　certainly；〃　Travkin　called　back　but　he　was　not　hurried。　He　knew　Noble　Star　and　he　walked　the　trembling；　big　brown　filly　well　away　from　the　stallion；　letting　her　prance；　the　wind　under　her　tail。　〃Gently；　my　darling；〃　he　crooned　in　Russian；　wanting　to　delay；　wanting　to　keep　the　others　off　balance；　now　the　only　one　not　in　the　gate。　A　flash　of　lightning　lit　the　eastern　sky　but　he　paid　it　no　attention；　or　the　ominous　roll　of　thunder。　The　drizzle　became　stronger。
　His　whole　being　was　concentrated。　Just　after　the　weigh…in；　one　of　the　other　jockeys　had　sidled　up　to　him。　〃Mr。　Travkin；〃　he　had　said　softly；　〃you're　not　to　win。〃
　〃Oh？　Who　says？〃
　The　jockey　shrugged。
　〃Who's　the　winner？〃
　Again　the　jockey　shrugged。
　〃If　the　trainers　and　jockeys　have　a　fix　then　let　them　know　I'm　not　part　of　it。　I　never　have　been；　not　in　Hong　Kong。〃
　〃You'n　the　tai…pan　won　with　Buccaneer；　that　should　satisfy　you。〃
　〃It　satisfies　me　but　in　this　race　I'm　a　trier。〃
　〃Fair　enough；　sport。　I'll　tell　them。〃
　〃Who's　them？〃
　The　jockey　had　gone　away；　the　crowded　changing　room　noisy　and　sweat…filled。　Travkin　was　well　aware　who　the　ring　was；　some　of　them；　who　fixed　races　now　and　then；　but　he　had　never　been　a　participant。　He　knew　it　was　not　because　he　was　more　honest　than　the　others。　Or　less　dishonest。　It　was　only　that　his　needs　were　few；　a　sure　thing　did　not　excite　him　and　the　touch　of　money　did　not　please　him。
　The　starter　was　being　impatient。　〃e　along；　Alexi！　Hurry　it　up！〃
　Obediently　he　jabbed　the　spurs　and　walked　Noble　Star　forward　into　her　stall。　The　gate　clanged　behind　her。　A　moment's　hush。　Now　the　racers　were　under　starter's　orders。
　
　66
　
　4：00　P。M。：
　In　their　stalls；　jockeys　dug　their　fingers　into　the　horses'　manes；　all　of　them　nervous；　those　in　the　know　ready　to　crowd　Noble　Star。　Then　the　doors　flew　open　and　in　a　mad　instant　the　eight　runners　were　galloping；　packed　together　along　a　short　part　of　the　straight；　now　past　the　winning　post；　now　racing　into　the　first　bend。　The　riders　were　all　crouched　high　up；　side　by　side；　almost　touching；　some　touching；　the　horses　getting　their　pace；　hurtling　through　the　first　part　of　the　bend　that　would　take　them　a　quarter　of　the　course　into　the　far　straight。　Already　Pilot　Fish　was　half　a　length　ahead　on　the　rails；　Butterscotch　Lass　in　fine　position　not　flat　out　yet；　Winning　Billy　alongside；　back　a　little　from　Noble　Star　on　the　outside；　crowding　the　others　for　a　better　place　in　the　pack；　all　jockeys　knowing　that　all　binoculars　were　trained　on　them　so　any　pulling　or　interference　better　be　clever　and　cautious。　They　had　all　been　warned　that　millions　would　be　won　or　lost　and　it　would　cost　each　one　of　them　their　future　to　foul　up。
　They　pounded　through　the　turn；　mud　splattering　those　behind；　the　going　bad。　As　they　came　out　of　the　turn　into　the　straight　still　together；　shoving　for　position；　they　lengthened　their　strides；　the　sweat…smell　and　the　speed　exciting　horses　and　riders　alike。　Winning　Billy　took　the　bit　and　closed　up　alongside　Butterscotch　Lass；　now　half　a　length　behind　Pilot　Fish；　going　well；　the　rest　bunched；　all　waiting　to　make　their　run。　Now　Butterscotch　Lass　felt　the　spurs　and　she　leapt　forward　and　passed　Pilot　Fish；　fell　back　a　little　and　passed　him　again；　Pilot　Fish　still　hugging　the　rails　carefully。
　Travkin　was　holding　the　filly　well；　lying　back　in　the　pack；　still　outside；　then　he　gave　her　the　spurs　and　she　increased　speed　and　he　cut　closer　to　the　leaders；　herding　the　others；　almost　bumping　Lochinvar。　The　rain　increased。　The　sting　of　it　was　in　his　eyes；　his　knees　and　legs　tight　and　already　hurting。　There　was　not　a　length　between　them　as　they　galloped　out　of　the　stretch　into　the　corner。　Going　into　the　far　turn　they　were　all　packed　close　to　take　advantage　of　the　corner　when　a　whip　came　from　nowhere　and　lashed　across　Travkin's　wrists。　The　suddenness　and　pain　unlocked　his　grip　an　instant　and　almost　unbalanced　him。　A　split　second　later　he　was　in　control　again。　Where　the　blow　came　from　he　did　not　know；　or　care；　for　they　were　well　into　the　corner；　the　going　dreadful。　Abruptly；　the　gray　outsider　Kingplay　on　the　rails　just　behind　Pilot　Fish　slipped　and　stumbled；　his　jockey　felt　the　earth　twist　and　they　went　down　smashing　into　the　rails；　pulling　two　horses　with　them。　Everyone　in　the　stadium　was　on　their　feet。
　〃Christ　who's　down　。。。〃
　〃Is　it　。。。　it's　Noble　Star　。。。〃
　〃No；　no　it　isn't　。。。　Winning　Bill　…　〃
　〃No　he's　lying　third　。。。〃
　〃e　on　for　Christ's　sweet　sake　。。。〃
　In　the　uproar　in　the　stewards'　room　Dunross；　whose　binoculars　were　rock　steady；　called　out；　〃It　was　Kingplay　who　fell　。。。　Kingplay；　Street　Vendor　and　Golden　Lady　。。。　Golden　Lady's　on　her　feet　but　Christ　the　jockey's　hurt　。。。　Kingplay　won't　get　up　。。。　he's　hurt　。。。〃
　〃What's　the　order；　what's　the　order？〃
　〃Butterscotch　Lass　by　a　nose；　then　Pilot　Fish　on　the　rails；　Winning　Billy；　Noble　Star；　nothing　to　choose　amongst　them。　Now　they're　going　into　the　last　turn；　the　Lass's　ahead　by　a　neck；　the　others　hacking　at　her　。。。〃　Dunross　watched　the　horses；　his　heart　almost　stopped；　excitement　possessing　him。　〃e　on；　Alexi　。。。〃　His　shout　added　to　those　of　others；　Casey　as　excited；　but　Bartlett　watching；　uninvolved；　his　mind　below。
　Gornt　in　the　Blacs　box　had　his　glasses　focused　as　steadily　as　the　tai…pan；　his　excitement　as　controlled。　〃e　on；〃　he　muttered；　watching　Bluey　White　give　Pilot　Fish　the　whip　in　the　turn；　Noble　Star　well　placed　on　the　outside；　Winning　Billy　alongside　the　Lass　who　was　a　neck　in　front；　the　angle　of　the　turn　making　it　difficult　to　see。
　Again　Travkin　felt　the　lash　on　his　hands　but　he　dismissed　it　and　eased　a　little　closer　in　the　bend；　the　remaining　five　horses　inches　apart；　Butterscotch　Lass　crowding　the　rails。
　Bluey　White　on　Pilot　Fish　knew　it　would　soon　be　time　to　make　his　dash。　Ten　yards；　five；　four　three　two　now！　They　were　ing　out　of　the　turn　and　he　gave　Pilot　Fish　the　whip。　The　stallion　shot　forward；　inches　from　the　rails；　flat　out　now　as　Butterscotch　Lass　got　the　spurs　and　whip　an　instant　later；　for　all　the　jockeys　knew　it　was　now　or　never。
　Travkin；　stretched　out　parallel　to　Noble　Star's　neck；　leaned　forward　and　let　out　a　cossack　scream　near　Noble　Star's　ear　and　the　filly　took　the　primeval　call　and　lengthened　her　stride；　nostrils　flared；　foam　on　her　mouth。　Now　the　five　runners　were　pounding　the　stretch；　Noble　Star　on　the　outside；　Winning　Billy　inching　ahead　of　the　Lass；　all　their　withers　sweat…foamed；　now　the　Lass；　now　Pilot　Fish