by Steve Farley
That is the story that is told in books and accepted by the modern world. But some of the villagers who lived in the region surrounding Mt. Atnos told another version of the story. They believed a demigod such as Diomedes could never be killed, and local legend had it that Diomedes feigned his death and that he and his mares live on to this day, hidden in a secret city among the wandering trees of a magical forest. Today’s scholars accept that these tall tales about Diomedes were concocted by the locals as a means to scare off neighboring villagers who might have been tempted to expand their territories into the lush woods and pastures of Acracia. The same could be said for the folklore about poisonous rivers and spring-fed pools that drove mad any animal that drank from it, including humans.
In more recent times, Acracia has remained a fairly autonomous region. Due to its remote location, it escaped much of the hardship inflicted on the rest of Thrace by a series of foreign invaders. The last of those invaders were the Turks, who took all of Thrace in the fourteenth century and held it until 1920 when …
Alec read a little farther and then turned to the back pages. There he found an illustration of a bearded man with heavy-browed, scowling eyes. The caption below it read, “Diomedes—horse master of Thrace.” Alec looked at the illustration a minute and then put the pamphlet away. As macabre as it all sounded, there was something fascinating about the story of Diomedes. It was always helpful to learn something of a place’s local history, Alec thought, especially when you had never been there before.
Taking off his clothes, Alec lay down and crawled under the blankets. But sleep would not come, so he got up again, put his clothes back on and returned to the Black’s tent stable to sleep on a cot outside the stallion’s stall. He wasn’t frightened, really, just a little unsettled by the bones in the exhibit room. When he felt like that, it always made sense to stay close to the Black.
On the Set
The golden light of dawn was already filling the tent as Alec sat up on his stable cot and threw off his blanket. Molded by years of farm and track routine, he usually slept well and awakened easily, confident and ready to face another day. But this morning he felt a bit anxious as he looked around at the unfamiliar surroundings.
Alec rubbed the sleep from his eyes and stood up. Outside he heard a thumping sound that he assumed was Bateman’s helicopter flying in somewhere outside the compound. A minute later, the chop-chop-chop faded away as the craft took off and flew back down the mountain. What a way to travel, Alec thought.
The Black was awake, and Alec went to his horse and gave him his feed and some fresh water. The smell of brewing coffee drew him to a table in the courtyard. He had a cup and said good morning to the cast and crew gathered there.
After the Black finished eating, it was time for a light grooming before they headed over to the wardrobe tent. The Black needed to get outfitted for the scene they were shooting that morning.
Alec spent the next hour trying to get the Black to submit to wearing the costume for his Bucephalus stand-in scene. Though the breastplate, feathered headpiece and other armor was lightweight, it was still cumbersome, and the stallion plainly didn’t understand why Alec was asking him to wear it. He wasn’t a trained movie horse and had never been schooled in the particular skills necessary to play a part in a film.
The Black bucked and pawed and was generally uncooperative, but finally Alec managed to get his horse suited up and more or less ready for the shot. Or rather, ready to wait for the shot. Once again, Alec realized that in the world of movies, everything was about waiting. You always had to be ready when they said you had to be ready, but it also seemed you always had to wait because someone else wasn’t ready, or because a light stand fell over, or because a cloud was blocking the sun or because of a million other mishaps that could delay the plans for the day. All the waiting around didn’t really bother Alec that much. If his life at the racetrack had taught him anything, it was that it never paid to be in a hurry. At the track, winners waited and watched and didn’t get impatient about circumstances beyond their control. Sometimes it just meant finding a relaxing way to fill up the time between races. It seemed much the same here, and Alec was thankful he had a good book to read.
Finally he got the word that the cameras were almost ready, and they wanted Alec and the Black on the set in ten minutes. Alec was already wearing his costume but ducked into the wardrobe tent for last-minute adjustments. Xeena waited outside with the Black. Two costume assistants helped Alec get his helmet on and double-checked the rest of his armor.
“You ready?” Xeena asked when Alec emerged.
Alec nodded. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
They started off for the set. Alec gave his horse a pat on the neck. “I wish I could explain all of this to the Black,” he said. “He must think I’ve gone crazy, asking him to wear this stuff.”
Xeena laughed. “He looks great anyway. He’ll look terrific with the mountains in the background.”
The scene was being filmed only a couple minutes’ walk away, on a low hill flanked by looming peaks just beyond the compound. Jeff met them there and ran over the setup with Alec one last time. “Alexander and Bucephalus are reuniting after being separated during a battle,” Jeff said. “Your job is to stand on top of the hill and call the Black to you when Bateman gives the cue.”
“Sounds simple enough,” Alec said. “I just hope the Black will cooperate. Anyway, we’ll do the best we can.”
The set was crowded with clusters of camera people, electricians, lighting people and assistants directing sunlight with reflector boards. Soon the cameras were in position and the crew was ready.
Karst was waiting for them at the mark where the Black was to start from. Alec had decided the best way to ensure the stallion came to him when he was turned loose was to tempt him with food. For this Alec was using a fresh carrot and a Jonathan apple, a tangy-sweet variety that the Black usually couldn’t resist. Alec held out his hand and let the Black sniff the apple and then backed away from the stallion, showing him the apple and calling to him. The Black pulled at his lead, but Karst, with a little help from Xeena, held the stallion still. Alec took his position about twenty yards away on top of the low hill.
“Action,” Bateman commanded over the bullhorn.
Alec called to his horse again, and this time Karst turned the Black loose. The stallion started for Alec but then gave a shrill neigh and took off in another direction.
“Cut,” called the director. “Do it again.” Wranglers on horseback and assistants on foot waved down the stallion and turned him back.
“I better get him,” Alec said. He jogged out to collect the Black and lead him to his start marker.
“Easy, fella,” Alec said. This time he gave the Black a taste of apple and a piece of carrot. But after the cameras were readied and Alec again called to the stallion, once more the Black bolted for the sidelines and out of the shot. They tried again and again. It took five attempts before Alec could finally get the Black to come to him as the director wanted.
Xeena walked with Alec as he led the stallion back to his stall. “That was so embarrassing,” Alec said. “It looked like I had zero control over my horse out there.”
Xeena nodded. “All the animals have been acting up this morning,” she said. “Even Cleo, and she never gets worked up about anything. Maybe there is something in the woods around here. There could be forest predators, a pack of wolves or mountain lions.”
“Are there animals like that living here?” Alec asked.
“I didn’t think so, but you never know.”
Alec shook his head. “Let’s not worry about that unless we have to.”
“You’re right,” Xeena said. “Anyway, we have Conrad’s snakes to protect us. They are starring in their big scene later today. It should be interesting.”
After lunch that afternoon, Alec was sitting with his horse when Xeena popped her head into the tent. “Hey there,” she said. “What’s up?”
&n
bsp; “Just reading my book,” Alec said. “How is it going on the set?”
“Pretty good. The snakes seem to be feeling a bit lazy, though. How’s the Black?”
“He’s okay now. I don’t know what got into him before.”
Xeena smiled and took a seat on a bale of hay. “It’s been that sort of a day for everyone.”
“You should have heard the goats in the next stall a few minutes ago, bleating like murder. Something sure had them stirred up.” Alec shook his head. “So what’s going on with Conrad’s snakes?”
“Right now they think the reason the snakes are so sleepy is because the ground is too cold,” Xeena said. “Conrad says they need to heat up the sand to get the snakes moving again. Everything is stopped until the crew can bury a sheet of metal in the ground underneath where the snakes will be filmed. Then they will use electricity to heat up the metal and the layer of sand above it, making it hot enough so the snakes will do something more than curl up and fall asleep. You should go check it out.”
“Sure,” Alec said. He glanced over his shoulder to where the Black had his nose buried in his hay net. “And what about him?”
“I’ll watch him. Don’t worry.”
“I don’t know,” Alec said. “He’s quiet now but earlier he was really acting peculiar.”
“He’ll be all right,” Xeena said.
Alec thought about it a minute. “Seriously?” he said. “You’ll keep an eye on him? I would sort of like to see this.”
“Sure,” Xeena said. “Go ahead. They are set up just outside the compound. It’s not far.”
Alec walked to a table and picked up a small black two-way radio. “I’ll take the walkie-talkie,” he said. “Let me know if he starts acting up.”
Xeena nodded. “We’ll be fine. No matter what happens, the set is only a minute’s walk. Don’t worry.”
Alec jogged to the gate and out to the set where the crew was shooting the snake scene. The cameras were set up to one side of a Plexiglas barrier. It looked like a clear windowpane and was about six feet high and twelve feet wide. Alec figured the crew had already installed the underground heating pad, because Conrad and one of the other snake wranglers were now raking smooth the ground on the other side of the glass. The rest of the crew waited behind the camera, milling around or checking their equipment. Alec spotted Karst and Jeff sitting on folding chairs beside stacks of black camera cases. They waved to Alec, and he jogged over to join them.
Karst glanced at the set and shook his head. “Snakes,” he said. “Train horses is hard. Train snakes and a two-year-old boy? I think we stay here all day.”
Jeff laughed. “Whatever else he is, Conrad is a good snake wrangler. If anyone can pull this off, he can.”
“Who is in this scene besides the snakes?” Alec asked. “Before, you said it was a dream scene, right?”
Jeff pointed out Carla, the sixteen-year-old actress playing Alexander’s mom in the scene. “Freddy Roth has an eye for talent and picked her up in Xanthi,” Jeff said. “Never worked in films before. That’s her mom, Veronica, standing next to her. The other woman is Helen, from wardrobe.” The three women were riding herd on a two-year-old boy who was having the time of his life playing with a toy sword someone had given him and kicking the air with his feet.
“Mr. Kung Fu over there is Otto,” Jeff said. “He’ll be playing the Alexander-as-a-kid character in the snake scene. Helen is Otto’s real mom. They are German expats, living in Xanthi. Helen works in the wardrobe department, and when Bateman saw Otto on the set one day, he thought the kid would be perfect for the dream scene and Helen agreed. I don’t think she knew her son’s costars were going to be a pair of snakes, though.”
Jeff gestured to where the assistants were just finishing smoothing out the dirt in front of the glass. “It looks like they have the hot pad in place and are about ready.” He glanced at Karst and they both stood up. “We better stick close in case we can help in some way. Come with us if you want, Alec,” Jeff said. “Just remember to stay well behind the cameras when we get ready to roll.”
A few minutes later, cameras, sound equipment and actors were all in their places. Conrad stood back to one side, holding his snake-wrangling tool—a four-foot-long wooden stick with a hooklike tip. Alec briefly stepped behind Bateman and the camera crew framing the shot. He could see that from this angle, the glass was nearly invisible.
Helen brought Otto to his mark only a foot or two away from the glass and less than three feet from the snakes curled up quietly on the other side of the barrier. Otto barely seemed to notice them and occupied himself with digging a hole in the dirt and letting the earth crumble beneath his fingers.
“That’s perfect,” Bateman said. “Terrific. Conrad, you ready?”
“More heat,” Conrad called to his assistant working the controls of the hot pad. Soon the leopard snakes seemed to wake up from their nap. One slithered to the glass and tried to climb it. Conrad moved his wrangling tool and pulled the snake off the glass. Then he gave the other snake a prod with the stick to get him motivated.
The snakes turned their attention on each other, facing off, winding up in coils, one twitching the tip of his tail threateningly. “Ready, boss,” Conrad called out. “Better go now.”
“Action.”
Helen called a signal to her son from where she was standing just offscreen. Otto reached up and touched the glass and, for what looked like the first time, noticed the snakes. His reaction was more curiosity than fear as he watched the two snakes getting riled up on the other side of the glass. Suddenly one of the snakes darted off and the other chased it, both streaking for the edge of the glass as if trying to slip around to the other side where Otto was still lolling about in the dirt.
“Stop,” Helen called in English as she dashed onto the set and scooped up her son. Conrad and another wrangler chased after the two runaway snakes.
“Cut,” called the director.
“No worries, folks. They’re not poisonous,” Conrad called out. “Just give me a minute here …”
Karst nudged Alec with his elbow. “What I tell you,” he said with a laugh. “Train snakes? I hope boss knows what he’s doing.”
The snake wranglers corralled the snakes while Helen listened to Bateman telling her she had nothing to worry about and that her child was in no danger. In the end, Helen apologized for spoiling the shot.
As the crew set up for the next take, Alec began to wonder how the Black was doing. He looked at his watch and decided he’d better get back to the stable. This was a job for all of them, and Xeena probably had other things to do than babysit the Black while Alec hung around the set like a tourist.
That night at dinner, Alec heard the snake scene was finally completed successfully, and after the rest of the day’s shooting for the black unit was finished, Bateman helicoptered back to the film’s base camp farther down the mountain. The director was scheduled back the next morning to finish up the last few scenes of the monastery shoot with the black unit.
Alec spoke with Conrad and some of the other wranglers. Once again, all anyone could talk about was the trouble they had getting their animals to perform. If they weren’t fast asleep and unwilling to wake up, they were trying to bust out of their cages and stalls and run off. Alec wondered about this. In a way it was a relief that the Black wasn’t the only one that had acted up today. Conrad said he would be glad when this shoot was over and they could get back home.
The Falls
Alec slept on a stable cot in the Black’s tent again that night. The next morning he woke late. The first thing he noticed was how unusually quiet it was outside. He hadn’t heard a helicopter or even the sounds of the generators powering up at the location site. Alec wondered if Bateman was even here yet.
The Black was awake when Alec stepped into his stall to bring him his breakfast. Alec spoke to his horse as the Black paced around his stall, the stallion feigning indifference to him at first. After a few more turns around t
he stall, the Black finally allowed Alec to touch his neck, then dipped his head into the feed trough to sniff at the special mix of oats and bran mash Alec had prepared for him. “Good morning to you too,” Alec said. He watched the Black another minute and then went outside to the craft-services table to get himself a cup of coffee and a banana.
“There you are,” a voice called behind him as Alec made a beeline for the coffee. He turned and saw it was Jeff. “I checked your room and you weren’t there.”
“I slept out here. It was nice.”
Jeff nodded and smiled. “I wanted to tell you there’s been a little change in plans. Bateman’s chopper broke down, and they are waiting on a part. It will probably take the rest of the day to fix it. The word is that we should sit tight and wait.”
Alec laughed. “Fine with me.”
“If you want to join us, some of the guys will be playing a game of cards in the dining room after breakfast to kill some time.”
“Thanks,” Alec said, and followed Jeff toward the dining area, where an American-style breakfast buffet was set up.
When the meal was over, Alec bowed out of the card game and told Jeff he was going to take the Black for a walk.
“Just remember, the other side of the river is off-limits,” Jeff said as Alec got up from the table. “The government guy made that really clear. It’s some club or resort or something over there. Plenty to see on this side of the river, I imagine.”
“We’ll be careful,” Alec said.
Alec wanted to give his horse a break today, so when he led the Black from his stall, the stallion wore no saddle or bridle, only a loose halter with a short lead shank attached. A horse like the Black would not tolerate too much tack strapped to his body day after day, just as there were times he would not tolerate too much attention from people, even Alec. One of the important lessons he had learned from his horse, and it was true of all free-thinking animals, including people, was that no matter how much you loved them, or they loved you, the trick to getting along was to know when to leave them alone.