Excerpt from Unbreakable by Richard Askwith, plus links to reviews, author biography & more

Indoors the house is warm and welcoming, but there are still traces of its clumsy repurposing as an institution in the Communist era. It is hard to imagine that this was once the home of a family of aristocrats—let alone that one of the twentieth century's most celebrated sportswomen lived here.

Lata and her sisters were driven out in the 1950s, long before Jan was born. The property came back to the family under "restitution," following Czechoslovakia's Velvet Revolution of 1989. Jan has lived here (most of the time) since 1993. He shares the old property with his wife, Gabriela Křístková, along with two dogs, three cats, and six horses. They support themselves with a portfolio of activities that includes forestry and riding tuition. Time or energy that remains is devoted to undoing the damage of the Communist era. "It had been reconstructed in the socialist way," explains Jan. "There were trees growing from the roof."

One day they hope their home will feel more like the home that Lata lived in, but the restoration is a thankless task. The passing seasons nibble insatiably at house and garden; it's battle enough to prevent further degradation. Behind the house, wild boars have made a wasteland of the sloping fields in which Lata learned to ride; the forest on the hill beyond would quickly become an impenetrable wilderness without constant intervention by its owners. Like a profligate ex-spouse, the estate endlessly renews its demands for maintenance.

The couple stick at it, determined to honor the memory of their most remarkable relative. In one small room, they have even assembled a "mini museum" in Lata's honor. There isn't much in it yet: a few dozen photographs; a cupboard of clothing and rosettes; a small glass case full of souvenirs. But that may soon change.

In 2006, Jan's Aunt Eva died. She was eighty-four, unmarried—and the longstanding custodian of family memories. Jan found himself the unexpected owner of ten large boxes stuffed with papers, photographs, and newspaper cuttings. It was the kind of legacy that can take years to unjumble—if you ever get around to making a start on it. With Aunt Eva's boxes, the process is almost complete. The contents have sometimes proved baffling; most concern family members who do not come into this story. Yet every now and then there is a priceless clue to its heroine—because Eva was Lata's niece.

Much of Unbreakable is based on lines of enquiry that began with these boxes, some of which led in unexpectedly fruitful directions. Other family members, and countless friends, acquaintances, and witnesses, have also contributed generously. The resulting picture is not complete: occasionally I have been reduced to joining the dots, speculatively, between known facts. (I have made it clear when I am doing so.) But the picture is drawn from life. There really was a countess whose nation took away her privileges one by one, yet who became its figurehead in its time of need. There was—and still is—a steeplechase so extreme in its demands that some consider merely taking part in it to be a sign of insanity. There was indeed a band of Nazi paramilitaries, seemingly invincible on horseback, who chose that same steeplechase as an arena in which to prove their credentials as a master race. and there really was a woman, shy, modest and awkward in company, who tried to stop them; and who refused—in that as in much else—to take no for an answer

* * *

A photograph from Aunt Eva's boxes shows Lata in her prime. It is cut from a newspaper, yet her joy fills the faded picture. Head held high, strands of fair hair drifting from her helmet, she is breathless and shining, minutes after her most famous victory. Her eyes seem glazed with thrill and wonder. This is the Lata Brandisová who astounded Europe: bold, defiant, radiant with self-belief.

Excerpted from the first chapter of Unbreakable by Richard Askwith, published by Pegasus Books. Reprinted with permission. All other rights reserved.