It was like dropping off a cliff, so sudden was Basbusa’s acceleration. She crossed just in front of the Harb’s camel, her tail in its face, as she shot obliquely towards the sideline, then at a touch from the Scorpion, galloped after Bandar who was flying well ahead. She was moving very fast, overtaking one camel after another.

The roar of the nearby crowd, almost near enough to touch, was in his ear as they thundered after Bandar, who had overtaken the leaders and had broken into the clear with no one in front of him. He was still a good eighty meters ahead and moving strongly, holding the pace with only a mile to go. Basbusa was bleeding where the Scorpion had whipped her and her mouth foamed green with slime. Her breath was beginning to labor, but the Scorpion sensed that she still had those reserves he had saved for her.

“Al an, now,” he called again to her and she thundered ahead, almost wild, her ears flat against her head. He was only sixty meters behind now, but his way was blocked by two Najd camels running neck-and-neck. They were too close together to slip between and he would lose too much ground if he tried to go around them. Worse, the finish line was fast approaching, perhaps only a quarter-mile away.

He saw Bandar reach behind him and unsling his musket. The onlookers would no doubt assume that it was to fire a victory volley, but the Scorpion knew that there were only seconds left. But he couldn’t shoot through the two riders blocking him. And it was still too far a shot.

There was only one chance left. It was a long shot at best and he would have barely a millisecond to aim from such a position. It would require going flat out with Bandar, plus incredible riding skill and balance. In the instant in time when he realized this he expressed none of it with words, only saying, “Inside and up,” to himself. That and the knowledge that ready or not, this was his moment and it would never come again.

He slashed once, viciously, at Basbusa with the cartridge belt, then flung it away as he steered her next to the sideline rope, almost running over a guard as he jostled against the near camel, barely slipping through on the inside. The noise of the crowd was like a windstorm as he dropped the reins and let Basbusa run wild and free.