Double Star

by Cindy Saunders

  “Meg, leave us for a moment,” Thea said when she reached them.

  “Fine. I am going to get a hat.” Meg flounced off.

  Thea paused to catch her breath and placed her basket of roots and herbs on the ground. “Liam,” she said, “you can and should correct her. By the fire of Hades, you can teach her if you have the time… and the patience. You will share a future with Meg long after your father is gone but you need to remember… you are not her father.”

  “Aye, Thea. But in his absence, I am all she has.”

  “Focus then, on what is important.” She hesitated a moment and pulled a leather pouch from her apron. “Here is something for Cormac’s mother. Instructions are inside. It is imperative he follow them.”

  Liam’s mother had been gifted, but the attention his house received came by way of Althea. The medicines she created from her knowledge of herbs and flowers were sought by those beyond the forest. It was unfortunate she could not find the remedy his mother had needed in the short time Fate granted them.

  He bent down and kissed her cheek. “We will see you tonight.”

  “Tell your father to be careful. The wind has changed direction.”

  He raised his eyebrows. Perhaps Thea was succumbing to the paranoia that accompanied old age. “I will. Come, Pilotte.” In an instant, a barking dog was at his heels. He bent down and rubbed the border collie’s chin. “I am sorry you cannot come today but, I promise, you will not miss much.” Liam led the horses from the barn. Pollux, his black stallion, stood nearly nineteen hands from hoof to shoulder, towering over Meg’s gray horse, Shilo.

  Meg ran to Liam. He had been distracted earlier and shook his head at her, seeing the frilly white dress and the floppy hat of the same color in her left hand.

  “Why must you try my patience?” he said. “Where do you think you are going dressed like that?”

  Meg placed the hat on her head and stuck out her tongue.

  “Promise you will not embarrass me.” He grabbed the horn of Pollux’s saddle and swung himself up. “Let us get this over with.”

  They rode in silence, communication stifled by Meg’s determination to stay ahead and Liam took the opportunity to examine the pieces of his life. The lovely sounds stolen by Death had left his family’s house cold. Its visit was tormenting, but brief, and was replaced by Misery, who moved in shortly thereafter and had made herself too comfortable. His father’s position in the ministry kept him away from home. Meg was thirteen and it would not be long before she could take care of the household. Soon Liam would be able to… what?

  He looked up in time to see his sister entering a dense section of the woods. “Meg! Wait!” He kicked Pollux to a run and caught up to her. The forest of Gilgamesh extended hundreds of kilometers in either direction, but in only a few places did the darkness of night persist so far into the day. For this brief stretch, he listened for any sounds hidden by the trees that might jeopardize their well-being. A few moments later they rode into Crescent Meadow, and had only traveled several hundred meters when a lone horseman appeared out of the grasses behind them to the left.

  Instantly, a much larger boy and horse rose up thirty meters ahead of them on the same side. Seconds later, they were joined by another pair of riders who appeared on their right. “Ambush!” one of them screamed.

  Chapter 4

  The two riders on the right flanked Meg. Liam assessed the situation and smiled, seeing the flaws in their tactics. Rather than stay on the road, he led Pollux into the tall grass, toward the large boy riding ahead of him. His heavy draft horse had come in too quickly and would be the first to tire.

  As Liam passed the horse, he crouched low and wrapped his arms around Pollux’s neck. A hand found the belt of Liam’s pants, but Pollux was past the rider before his fingers could get a grip. The boy did his best to reverse direction but lost distance because of a less-than-perfect turn. With his head tight to the horse’s mane, Liam moved fluidly with Pollux, and they galloped down a wide path across the meadow to the east.

  “Whoa, Pollux,” he called out when it was clear the two would never catch up and brought his horse about. “Corm, I thought you would know better by now.”

  “That I do, Liam,” answered the smaller of the two, “but Shane and I had a wager. He bet me he could catch you in his clever net. Now he needs to make good on it. Aye, Shane?”

  “There, now, Beowulf, the fault is not your own,” Shane said, stroking his horse’s neck and looking at Pollux, his blue eyes in stark contrast to his fair skin. “That is a fine animal, Liam. Admittedly, I underestimated him… and you.”

  “Thank you,” Liam said. “What did you bet?”

  “His hat… he has the privilege of keeping it,” Corm said and flashed a wide smile.

  Upon Shane’s head was a brightly colored jester’s cap. An extensive display of stringy twirls and springs suggested the numerous threads failed to stretch to the full circumference of the wearer’s large head. “You will both be jealous when the ladies cannot keep their eyes off me,” Shane replied.

  “I have no doubt you will be at the center of their attention,” Corm said as a light breeze moved across the meadow. His loose-fitting shirt billowed, revealing his lean but muscular frame. He pushed his long, brown hair away from his face.

  Liam snickered. “Shane, you cannot be serious. What is the purpose of the chapeau?”

  “Need to keep them guessing, my boy,” he said, and pulled it down tighter. His horse began to shift on all fours, in an attempt to manage Shane’s great weight.

  “All right, Beowulf, settle down.” Shane’s eyes focused on the road toward Kenyon. “Corm, are you as nervous as I?”

  “How can the grand Shane Carson be nervous about a competition?” Corm replied. “You will be fine, you great bear. It is I who needs to be nervous.”

  Shane pointed to the three figures in the road. “Is that Meg?” he asked, seeming to notice her for the first time. “I must get reacquainted. Yee-ha!” He sped away on Beowulf, with Liam and Corm close behind.

  “Ian,” Shane said to the rider beside Meg, who was dressed completely in black, “you should have insisted I listen to Oisin with regard to setting this trap.”

  “You never listen to me.” Ian tugged at his long, black ponytail. If not for his light green eyes, Ian might have been mistaken for the Dark Ghost with his skin of night.

  “He never listens to anyone,” Oisin added.

  “Excuse me, Liam,” Meg said, staring at Shane. “Am I correct that you were worried about me embarrassing you?”

  “My little Nutmeg.” Shane chuckled. “You are looking quite lovely today. First time at the fair is always an adventure. I will never forget mine.”

  “What happened?” Meg asked.

  “My brothers and I snuck into the ale pavilion. Suffice to say, there was not a drop wasted that day. My only regret is we were discovered hiding, not all that inconspicuously, behind a keg.”

  “As I recall, you were escorted from the fair that year,” Ian said.

  “A minor complication for several gentlemen, but little inconvenience to me,” Shane said. “Meg, I recommend you stay close, though, to avoid any difficulty.”

  “Not on your life, Shane Carson! I want to smell the perfumes… see the jewelry… all the girl stuff.”

  “As a matter of fact, those are the things of interest to me,” Oisin replied. His dark, curly hair was kept in place by a bright red scarf tied around his forehead, but it appeared washed out when compared against his red silk shirt. Only the glint from the gold hoop in his right ear was more distracting.

  “Please,” Meg said, “can we proceed so I can depart this miserable company?”

  As they began to ride, Liam handed Corm the pouch. “Here is something Thea prepared for your mother. How is she doing?”

  “Not good, I am afraid. Her condition has worsened. I pray this will help.”

  Liam nodded. “Aye, say it will.” Corm’s mother had been sick for the
last four months, and his father had taken to the bottle to ease his despair. How could Death take one life and leave another utterly broken? It was a question Liam and Corm had discussed on numerous occasions but they concluded an answer was nonexistent, and both were beginning to realize their dreams would have to wait.

  “I have not seen Olivia lately,” Corm said. “Have you stopped riding together?”

  Liam shook his head. “I do not know.”

  “Why? What happened?”

  What, indeed? Liam had gone over the events of that day more than once. “We were sitting on the bank of the river, sharing an apple. I held it up to take a bite and she leaned over and… kissed me.”

  Corm smiled. “Ah. So what is the problem then?”

  “The problem started when I dropped the apple. She was trying to look into my eyes, but mine were following the piece of fruit as it bounced into the stream and out of sight. She pulled away. I had no idea what to say or do. I have not seen her since. It happened too quickly.”

  “I did not realize it was something that required a lot of preparation.”

  “Nor did I. My father gave me advice on the subject of women. He told me, ‘The fires of Sirius will never burn like the fury of a woman scorned.’ If that is the case, Olivia will not forgive me anytime soon.”

  “Well, it might make for an interesting day at the fair.”

  Liam had forgotten about the awkwardness that might come with seeing Olivia for the first time since the fumbled kiss but, with the crowd, he was convinced he could avoid her—if he wanted to. A mix of emotions flooded his head. Why should he have to avoid her? Why was the construction and maintenance of a good friendship so hard? Friends should be like a barn; once built, aside from the occasional minor repairs, the job was done. But instead they were more like the animals inside, needing constant care and attention.

  Oisin slowed his pace to ride beside them. “What are you discussing?”

  “The unpredictable nature of ladies,” Corm answered.

  “Oh, Zeus on Olympus!” Oisin said. “You will not like where I stand on matters concerning beautiful women who can steal your heart with hello.”

  “Oisin,” Corm said, “I bet you fall in love by midday.”

  Oisin’s eyes sparked. “We have a wager then.”

  “Today is my lucky day,” Corm replied. “First Shane, and now you. What is it you would like to bet…?”

  In the company of friends, time passed swiftly and Liam was surprised when he saw signs of the fair in the distance. The tents created a colored patchwork in the valley below, and flags could be seen flirting with the light wind that came in from behind. When the roll of the road was no longer hidden, the sound of laughter drifted toward them.

  “Race you,” Ian said as he sped away on Nyx.

  Corm signaled he would hang back with Meg and, when Liam turned his eyes back to the road, his friends had already covered fifty meters, about a tenth of the distance to the makeshift shelter on the southern end of the fairgrounds.

  Liam coaxed Pollux to a gallop and reached the temporary stables first, a length ahead of Oisin. Shane and Ian, however, were a good twenty meters behind. “They will never learn,” he whispered to Pollux.

  While he waited for the others, Liam looked upon the crowd of people gathered where the road from Pembroke intersected with the North Street of Kenyon. Only one building stood at the T-shaped intersection: the Laius Bros. Trading Post. A sign in front of the building pointed toward the more populous towns to the east and west and in the distance, the snowcaps of the Bellerophon Mountains glistened in the midmorning sun.

  Shane let out a sharp whistle. Three young boys ran toward them. The first went directly to Liam’s horse and took the reins.

  “What is your name?” Liam asked as he dismounted Pollux.

  “My name is Perseus,” the boy replied.

  “From where do you hail?”

  “I come from Bristol, sir.”

  “Very well, Perseus of Bristol. This fine animal is Pollux. Tend to him well and there will be another of these when I return this afternoon.” Liam tossed the boy a coin. “If something should go awry, though, the Ministry will see the ferryman, Charon, is paid.”

  The boy grinned. “Yes, sir. I understand.”

  “Could you help me down, William Cheveyo of Pembroke?” Meg asked.

  Liam rolled his eyes. Ascencia, give me strength.

  “Allow me the pleasure, my lady.” Shane reached up and lifted her from Shilo.

  “Thank you, kind sir,” she said when her feet touched the ground.

  Liam lowered his voice as he bent down, his face level with his sister’s. “Meg, it is your first time at the fair and, as much as it pains me to say this, it is my responsibility to guarantee it will not be your last. Please respect my wishes and stay close.”

  “Liam, I could not bear to spend the day with you. I understand Thea would want me to obey your wishes. However, my dear brother, you have yet to inform me with what you are doing your bargaining. Unless we agree to take in a respectable number of the sights I desire, what is to keep my feet from wandering in this direction…?” Meg began walking down North Street.

  After five steps, she gasped and waved madly. “Sara! Over here! Sara Acrisius!”

  Sara and Meg took lessons together. Liam did not have the patience to provide his sister with the education she needed and Sara’s father was glad to have another student.

  “Meg! There you are,” Sara said. She turned to the man walking next to her. “Dad, can Meg accompany us today?”

  “Meg… Liam, how are you on this fine morning?” Mr. Acrisius said.

  “Very well, sir,” Liam replied, shaking his not-so-distant neighbor’s hand.

  “Liam, this is wonderful! Do the five of you represent our contingent from Pembroke? What a fine group of young men. We have a fair chance to medal this year. In fact, I am sensing more than one of you will allow me to sport the colors of our stake.” He patted the silk flag tucked under his arm with his walking stick. “Indeed, it has been far too long.”

  “Sir,” Liam said while swallowing, “while I agree the stake of Pembroke has an excellent chance to be represented on the podium, I… will not be participating this year.”

  “Son, you of all people should know the mark you are graced with does not limit your participation to the physical challenges. I hoped you would give those from the eastern port cities a run for their coin in the Contest of Strategy.”

  “Thank you but, given the quality of participants from the East, a medal in the game of chess would be sure to elude me. And I have no intention of missing Pembroke’s greatest moment when we take gold in the physical challenges.”

  Only three from his stake had ever won medals. Twenty-eight years ago, Ian’s father, Lionel Telamon, was the first from the sparsely populated Pembroke to medal in any of the six physical contests. Six years later Sara’s father, Ajax Acrisius, took home silver and three years ago, Liberato Fransisco did the unthinkable—he won two gold medals, one in his physical challenge and one in the strategic event. A new hero was born from Pembroke, but the celebration was over before it began, and a mystery took its place. The boy never made an appearance at the festival again and had not been seen since.

  “May I have your permission for Meg to join Sara and me?” Mr. Acrisius asked.

  “Yes. Thank you,” Liam said, relieved for the offer and the distraction from such troubling thoughts.

  “We will meet back here after the events then. Good luck.”

  “Meg,” Liam said. When she saw what he held in his hand, he tossed it to her. The coins inside jingled as she caught it and rushed away.

  He joined his friends, who had gathered around a piece of parchment affixed to a nearby tree. “The events have been posted,” Ian said, pointing. “Cormac, lucky you. You are the first to compete. The Avian Challenge will be in the Far West Pavilion when the bell tolls eleven. I am in the next event, at the Coliseum. Oisin,
you will participate in the third contest—at the North Central Pavilion.” He turned to Shane, grinning. “And in the sixth and final challenge of the day, we find our little friend, Shane Carson. The Challenge of the Gladiators will take place at the Arena.”

  “Why is it they always save the best for last?” Shane asked. Before his question could find a witty response, he turned to Oisin. “Any idea on how we should pass the time this afternoon?”

  Oisin winked at an attractive female passing by. “My friends, I do not know how we will be spending the time until Shane’s moment of triumph, but I suggest we begin moving to the west end of the grounds and soak in the possibilities.”

  Two dragonheads carved into overhanging tree limbs marked the entrance to the fairgrounds. Tendrils of green moss spilled from their open mouths. The aroma of cedar chips filled Liam’s nostrils while the tinny music of a hammered dulcimer could be heard in the distance.

  They walked through Hawkers Row, where merchants displayed swords and shields, chainmaille, leather breeches, bows, arrows, and quivers. To the left were makeshift shops that sold painted figurines, musical instruments, stoneware, and pottery. Peddlers announced their wares while harried-looking vendors maneuvered pushcarts through the crowd, their stress concealed under practiced smiles.

  “Ah, yes,” Oisin said to Shane. “This is your favorite part of the fairground.” Fire-pits lined both sides of the street and all types of meat hung above coals that sizzled as the juices escaped.

  “Aye! Franz,” Shane shouted to a burly man turning a spit that held an entire pig, one of enormous proportion that could easily feed a hundred guests. The pinkish meat was starting to take on a golden-brown hue. “You have once again made the year worth the wait. When will she be ready, my friend?”

  “Patience, Shane, one does not rush the gods’ feast. Should be done right around your match time.”

  “If you promise to save me seconds, you give me sufficient reason to bring a quick end to the contest.”