Page 2 of Fire Must Burn

‘Bow side holding,’ called Jessica.

‘River side, fix blades. River side in. Bow side in.’

The rest of the eight women got into the boat, bracing their feet and grabbing the oars.

‘Number off from bow!’ called Sparks.

‘Bow!’ ‘Seven!’ ‘Six!’ ‘Five!’ ‘Four!’ ‘Three!’ ‘Two!’ ‘Stroke!’

‘Push off,’ Sparks said, holding the bung over her head, and the two women with the poles placed them against each end of the boat and shoved it away from the bank.

The marshal on the opposite bank, who had been watching the Pembroke crew recede into the distance, finally turned back and saw them.

‘Here, what do you think you’re doing?’ he shouted.

‘Racing the bumps!’ Sparks shouted back, keeping her eyes on the distant banks. ‘Square on the ready!’

Eight oars went up, blades perpendicular to the water.

‘But you’re women!’ shouted the marshal.

‘We know!’ they all shouted.

A handkerchief fluttered in the distance.

‘Row!’ shouted Sparks, dropping the bung.

Eight blades dipped into the water. The women pulled, and they were off, Sparks calling the strokes. They picked up speed,passing the stragglers on the towpath, many of whom stared in astonishment to see an all-woman crew, which elicited scattered cheers from the women and some shouts of derision from the men.

‘Settle on three,’ she called. ‘Two, one, settle!’

They fell into their regular stroke now that they were at speed.

The pedestrians won’t be a problem, thought Sparks as she kept calling out strokes, her hand on the tiller keeping the boat the proper distance from the bank as it curved slightly to the left.

They reached the next launch post where Tildy sat on her bike, looking at her watch.

‘Sixty-eight seconds!’ she shouted as they passed her, then she pedalled away, weaving between the clumps of people walking.

The water was smoother here, and Sparks called out a power twenty. The crowd on the towpath was getting thicker as they passed more of the launch points. She spotted Sauce at their next checkpoint, trying to fend off the attentions of a Caius second-year as she watched their boat approach.

‘Fifty-nine!’ she shouted.

‘We’re gaining on them, ladies,’ called Sparks. ‘Keep it up!’

Sauce jumped on her bike and sped by, blowing a kiss back to her aspiring suitor.

Some of the men seemed to be getting the idea that Sparks and her confederates were serious about competing. The shouts from the bank became more and more hostile, and were joined by whistles and gestures from the marshals to stop and pull in to the shore.

Which they ignored, of course.

Some of the Pembroke men began sprinting along the towpath, trying to catch up to their crew, but the boat was much faster. Then she saw one man climb on a bike and pedal off.

‘The cat’s out of the bag, ladies!’ she called. ‘Power twenty in two, one, now! Six, finish timing!’

They pulled harder, the sweat pouring off of them, soaking through their jumpers.

Tildy was at the next checkpoint, waving excitedly.