Alexis kicked his stallion from a canter into a gallop. Leaning forward, he shortened his reins and rose out of the saddle. Valentine was taken by surprise, and Alexis laughed when he heard Val shout. “Alexis, no!” As his friend grabbed for him, Alexis swerved. “Don’t try to stop me, old chap. You’ll get hurt.” Alexis bent over his horse’s neck. Standing in the stirrups, he let Theseus go. The animal stretched into the gallop. Hooves dug into frost-covered soil; legs contracted and sprang out until the horse seemed to claw the earth and then leap from it with each stride. Alexis heard Val’s voice calling to him from far away, but the speed was flowing in his veins. He tore through the wet dawn. Racing faster and faster, he strove toward that unattainable quarry—peace. Devils and sins, they rode with him. Theseus sensed them, too, and strained to leave them behind. Shrieking taunts, they flew beside him, lurid pennants to the staff of transgression on which he was impaled.
