“Do not be a fool!” the king roared at the prince. “Let them do their job!”
Alexander ignored his father. He walked calmly toward the stallion. The horse stared at him for a moment, then took off across the ring. Alexander started running after him.
“Stop him!” the king ordered his bodyguards. Two of the guards rushed forward and grabbed Alexander before he reached the horse. They held the prince as more grooms approached Bucephalus. The stallion reared up again.
“This horse cannot be tamed!” the king shouted at the horse seller.
“Yes he can!” shouted Alexander. He tried to break free from the guards, but they held him tightly. “And I am the one who can tame him!”
“Take him from my sight! He is worthless!” shouted the king. Jack couldn’t tell if the king meant the stallion or the prince.
The grooms drove the black stallion back into the stable. And the guards held on to Alexander as they followed the king and his companions back up the hill. Several times, the king turned and shouted at his son: “You fool!” “So reckless!” “Arrogant!”
“Excuse me,” said Aristotle. “I must try to calm the king.” He strode away, leaving Jack and Annie alone.
“Boy, Alexander’s dad is really mean to him,” said Annie.
“I noticed that at the house,” said Jack. “He kept telling Alexander to be quiet.”
Jack and Annie were quiet themselves as they watched King Philip yell at the prince all the way back to the Royal House. By the time the king and his party had gone inside, the sun had slipped behind the hill. Night was falling fast. The air had grown cooler.
“I know we think Alexander’s a mean kid and a show-off,” said Annie, “but just now he was trying to protect the black stallion.”
Jack didn’t say anything.
“And we were kind of mean to him, too, actually,” said Annie. “We made fun of him and stuff. We did.”
“He deserved it,” Jack mumbled.
“But the truth is we were showing off a little, too,” said Annie, “to the king and his men.”
“Fine. So what’s your point?” Jack said, sighing.
“Probably we’re even,” said Annie. “Maybe we should start over with him.”
“Oh, brother,” said Jack, but he actually agreed with her. Strangely, his anger at the prince had faded. He even felt sorry for him now.
“I think his life is pretty sad,” said Annie. “Maybe we could help him somehow.”
“How do you help a kid like that?” said Jack.
“I don’t know,” said Annie.
“Well, let’s start with a question,” said Jack. “What do we know about him so far?”
“We know he craves excellence and glory,” said Annie. “That’s what Aristotle told us.”
“We know he’s desperate to equal his father’s power and strength,” said Annie.
“And he thinks he’s the great-great-grandson of Hercules,” said Jack.
“Right. He’s a living Greek god,” Annie said.
“And the world’s greatest athlete,” said Jack.
“And soon he’ll be master of the universe,” said Annie.
Annie laughed, and Jack laughed with her. “He’s ridiculous,” Jack said, shaking his head.
“I’ve never met a kid like him before,” said Annie.
“Thank goodness!” said Jack.
“But we also know something else about him,” said Annie.
“What?” said Jack.
“We know he loves Bucephalus,” Annie said.
“Yeah … so?” said Jack.
“So let’s start there,” said Annie. “Love is always a good place to start. Don’t you think?”
Jack stared at Annie for a moment. “So … what do you have in mind?” he said.
“We could try to train Bucephalus for Alexander,” said Annie. “Then maybe his dad would let him keep the horse.”
“Are you serious?” said Jack. “You and me train him?”
“We’ve done it before,” said Annie. “Remember when we went to the Wild West and helped save the mustangs? We learned some rules on how to treat a horse.”
“That journey was a long time ago,” said Jack.
“But you took notes,” said Annie. “I saw them in your notebook today.”
“Yeah, well, we might have notes, but we don’t have much experience,” said Jack. “We weren’t there long enough.”
“Let’s just look at your notes,” said Annie.
Jack pulled out his notebook and found the notes he’d taken during their adventure in the Wild West. “Horse rules,” he read aloud. “Soft hand, firm voice, sunny attitude, praise, reward.”
“Simple. We just have to be nice and kind and positive,” said Annie. “Let’s try it.” She started toward the gate.
“Are you crazy? There’s lots more to it than that,” said Jack, following her. “Those guys in the ring have tons of experience! And they couldn’t do anything with that horse!”
“Forget those guys,” said Annie. “We’re a million times nicer to animals than they are. And I have a sunny attitude.” She opened the gate and started across the long stretch of grass to the stable.
“But that horse is dangerous, Annie,” Jack said as he followed her to the stable entrance. “Don’t just think you can tame him!”
“Now you sound like King Philip,” said Annie. “Let’s find the horse first, then we’ll figure out what to do.”
Jack and Annie peeked into the shadowy stable. It smelled of wood, barley, and hay. Contented sounds of snuffling, snorting, and munching came from the stalls. From the other end of the barn, though, came neighing and stamping noises.
“I think he’s at the far end,” said Annie. She looked around. “I don’t think anyone’s in here now. Let’s look.”
“Move fast!” said Jack. They stepped into the dark stable. Jack grabbed a lamp from a wooden table. The flickering light cast strange shadows as he and Annie moved past the stalls toward the end of the barn.
Jack held the lamp high as they passed a white horse, several brown horses, and a brown-and-white spotted horse. Bucephalus was in the very last stall.
His coat shone in the lamplight. He was completely black, except for a white star on his forehead. His eyes still had a wild look, and his ears were flattened against the sides of his head. Jack thought he looked angry.
“Hi, Bucephalus,” Annie said in a warm, friendly voice. “Boy, are we happy to see you. And I know you’re happy to see us, too!”
“No he isn’t,” Jack said. “This isn’t going to work.”
But Annie lifted the latch on the door and calmly stepped inside, closing the door behind her.
“Don’t worry, Jack. I have a way with animals, remember?” said Annie. She jumped onto a bale of hay and put her leg over the horse’s back.
“No! No! You don’t just climb on—” said Jack.
The stallion gave a loud snort, then kicked his back hooves and dropped his head down, trying to buck Annie off.
“Whoa!” cried Annie, clutching the horse’s mane.
The horse hurled himself against the door. Jack barely got out of the way before the animal shot out of the stall. With Annie clinging to his mane, the horse ran through the long barn and out the open doorway!
“Stop!” Jack shouted. He blew out the lamp and ran after the stallion and Annie.
Outside in the riding ring, the horse reared. Annie was holding on with all her might. The stallion loomed above Jack, raking the air with his front hooves. Jack could see the whites of his eyes.
Jack stumbled backward and fell. At the same time, Annie tumbled off the horse. The stallion galloped across the grassy ring.
Jack scrambled over to Annie. “You okay?” he cried.
“Yes!” She sat up. “You were right … being nice wasn’t enough…,” she said, trying to catch her breath. “I made a fool of myself.… I guess I don’t have enough experience.”
The stallion
stopped near the fence. He stood against the purple-blue sky of early evening, snorting loudly.
“Don’t feel bad,” said Jack. “It would take tons of experience to train a horse like him.”
“Well …” Annie was still struggling to breathe. “We … you know we could be great horse trainers if we really wanted to.”
“What do you mean?” asked Jack.
“The … the magic,” Annie said. “We sniff the magic mist and then … then make a wish to become great horse trainers.”
“But does this have anything to do with our mission?” Jack said. “If it doesn’t, it wouldn’t be practical to use our magic now.”
“It might not be practical,” said Annie, “but I feel like it’s the right thing to do.”
Jack looked at the stallion. The animal made a soft blowing sound. He stared intensely back at Jack, as if trying to tell him something. “Okay,” said Jack, surprising himself. “I guess we could give it a try. Why not?”
“Great!” said Annie. “This is going to be so much fun!” She jumped to her feet.
“Slow down,” said Jack, standing up. He reached into his bag and pulled out the tiny glass bottle. The silver mist from the Isle of Avalon swirled inside. “So here’s what we do—we make a wish to be two great horse trainers.”
“Yes!” said Annie.
“Okay,” said Jack. “I wonder what happens when you’re the greatest horse trainers ever.”
“We’ll soon find out,” said Annie.
Jack lifted the bottle into the air. “We wish to be two great horse trainers!” Then he uncorked the bottle, closed his eyes, and deeply inhaled the magic mist.
A mix of wonderful smells overcame him: sweet honeysuckle with damp summer grass and leaves in sunshine.
When Jack opened his eyes, he felt light-headed. He held the bottle out to Annie, and she inhaled the mist, too. “Ahhhh,” she breathed.
Jack corked the tiny bottle and put it away. He and Annie grinned at each other. “All set?” Annie asked.
“You bet,” said Jack. He wasn’t worried now. He felt as calm and relaxed as if he had tamed a thousand wild stallions.
“Hello, Buddy,” Annie said to the stallion. “Do you mind if we just call you Buddy? It’s much easier than Bucephalus.”
Jack laughed quietly. Buddy was a better name.
Buddy pricked his ears as if he were listening to her. “Do you mind if we come closer, Buddy?” Annie asked.
The horse didn’t move.
Annie started walking very slowly toward him. Jack walked with her. When they were close enough to touch him, Buddy backed up nervously. He swished his tail and arched his neck.
“It’s okay, Buddy,” Jack said in a soft voice. “It’s okay, it’s okay.” Jack concentrated on the stallion. He poured all his energy, all his compassion, and all his strength into the horse … until he felt that he and Buddy were one and the same creature.
DO NOT COME CLOSE.
“What?” Jack said, looking around. Was he hearing the horse’s thoughts?
“You don’t want us to come close to you, Buddy?” Annie asked.
Oh, man, thought Jack. Annie heard him, too. This must be what happens when you’re a really great horse trainer: you understand what horses are thinking!
Jack looked deeply into the stallion’s eyes. He tried to hear the horse’s thoughts again.
DO NOT COME CLOSER.
“Okay, we won’t,” Jack said, keeping his voice calm and soothing. “We won’t come closer until you are ready.”
“That’s right,” said Annie. “But tell us, why can’t we come close?”
NO RIDERS.
“Why no riders?” Jack asked the horse. “You once had riders, didn’t you?”
“We won’t hurt you, Buddy,” said Annie. “We promise.”
Buddy lowered his head.
LOST.
“You’re lost?” said Annie.
LOST.
Jack remembered what Aristotle had told them. “He used to belong to the Royal Horse Master of Thessaly,” he said to Annie. He looked into the horse’s eyes again. “Is it your master?” he asked the stallion. “Is your master lost?”
The horse threw back his head and sniffed the air.
Jack and Annie were quiet for a moment. Then Annie said softly, “I’m afraid your master is not coming back. Not ever.”
The horse was still.
“Do you miss him?” Annie asked.
The stallion tossed his head. Jack thought he heard a word.
SAD.
The stallion’s sadness washed over Jack, filling him with sorrow, too. “I’m sorry,” he said.
“We’re really sorry,” said Annie. She sounded like she might cry.
Jack took another step toward the horse. Annie stepped with him. This time, the stallion didn’t back away.
Annie breathed on the horse’s muzzle so he could smell her breath. Jack did the same. Then Annie touched the stallion’s forehead, and Jack touched him, too. Annie moved her hand down the horse’s nose, while Jack stroked the horse’s long neck. The animal’s velvety coat smelled of grass and wind.
“Just know this,” Jack said to the stallion. He spoke tenderly and with all his heart. “Whatever happened to your master was not your fault. Not at all.”
The stallion lowered his head and nuzzled Jack and Annie. His whole body shuddered, as if he were sighing with relief.
Stars twinkled in the night sky. Jack and Annie were quiet for a long time. Then Annie gently rubbed the horse’s neck and said, “Hey, Buddy, let’s go for a ride. Want to?”
The stallion stood very still for a moment. Jack wondered if the horse understood. But then he raised his head.
YES.
“Great. You go first,” Annie said to Jack.
Jack grabbed a handful of the horse’s mane. Buddy didn’t move. He didn’t snort or balk. Jack took a couple of short steps and pushed off the ground. As if he had springs on his feet, he gracefully vaulted onto the horse’s back.
Jack reached out his hand. Annie took it. Then, as smoothly as a gymnast, she pushed off the ground and leapt onto the horse’s back behind Jack.
Jack and Annie settled comfortably into place, balancing themselves. Jack felt as if he’d lived on the back of a stallion all his life. He grabbed Buddy’s mane again and held on tightly. He gripped with his legs and leaned forward and whispered, “Let’s go.”
The stallion stamped the ground. Then he started walking slowly forward. Jack and Annie moved in perfect rhythm with his step. When they came to the gate of the riding ring, Jack pushed it open with his foot.
The stallion pranced out of the ring. Soon his hooves were crunching lightly over the pebble path leading down to the square. The town was quiet under a blanket of stars. Market stalls had shut down for the night. Merchants, craftsmen, and shoppers had gone home.
When the stallion reached the square, a warm wind urged him forward. He quickened his gait and began to trot. Jack and Annie moved in time with his steps: one-two, one-two, one-two.
The stallion picked up speed, until he began to canter. Jack and Annie moved in time to a different, smoother rhythm: one-two-three, one-two-three. Jack felt as if they were all dancing together.
When the stallion came to the wide road that led from the square, he began to gallop. He took long, swinging strides, until his hooves barely touched the ground.
Jack had the feeling that his legs had become one with the horse’s legs, his breath had become one with the horse’s breath, his skin had become one with the horse’s skin.
Buddy ran on, unafraid of the dark. He galloped along the dirt road, passing the moonlit military field where the king’s army was still drilling for war.
The stallion kept galloping. He passed meadows where sheep and cows slept under the stars. He passed quiet farmhouses and barking dogs.
As Buddy galloped lightly over the countryside, Jack and Annie knew how to sit evenly and how to breathe deeply. They knew
when to lean forward and when to shift their weight back. If they wanted Buddy to slow down or speed up or turn, they only had to shift their bodies slightly, and the horse seemed to understand.
Buddy soon left the road and started over a grassy field. Jack couldn’t see what was ahead, but he trusted the horse’s instincts. He trusted his own, too. He felt completely safe.
When Buddy jumped over narrow ravines, Jack knew how to relax his body and cling to the horse’s mane. When Buddy splashed through swamps and marshes, Jack knew how to stay centered on the horse’s back.
All through the night, Jack, Annie, and Buddy traveled over the countryside. When the horse finally slowed down to a steady walk, Jack began to grow sleepy. He rested his head on Buddy’s neck.
Jack heard frogs croaking in the wet reeds and crickets chirping in the dry grass. His body rocked as Buddy’s hooves tapped over the hard, cracked earth, through olive groves and rocky fields. He closed his eyes ….
“Jack.” Annie nudged him from behind.
“What?” Jack asked in a daze.
“Wake up.”
“What?” Jack opened his eyes.
The sun was up. In the rosy dawn, Buddy was ambling along the wide dirt road that led back to town. Sheep had risen to their feet and were grazing on dewy grass. A cool breeze blew by Jack’s face. It smelled of open fields and damp woolly lambs.
“Guess what?” said Annie. “Our hour was up a long time ago.”
“What do you mean?” said Jack, sitting up straight.
“The magic hour, when we were great horse trainers,” said Annie.
“What about it?” said Jack.
“It ended,” said Annie. “For a long time, we’ve been riding Buddy just as ourselves.”
“Really?” Jack said. “The magic ended?”
“Don’t worry,” said Annie. “Buddy doesn’t mind riders now. We helped him understand that we’re his friends, and that it’s okay to let other people ride him. He’s not waiting for his master anymore.”
“Oh, wow,” Jack said softly. He stroked Buddy’s damp neck. “Thank you for the great ride.”
The stallion whinnied and kept trotting. Soon he trotted past the military field again, where the king’s soldiers were still marching. “Remind me never to join the Macedonian army,” said Jack.
Stallion by Starlight Page 4
