“I see,” said Alexander, puffing out his chest. He gave Jack and Annie a superior smile. “Well then, small visitors, please share with us your great knowledge.”
Is this kid serious? Jack wondered. Who does he think he is?
“I’ll share,” Annie piped up. “Recently we learned a lot about a rare kind of bear called a panda bear.”
“Panda bear?” said the prince with a smirk.
“Yes, but don’t confuse pandas with other bears, like polar bears or grizzly bears,” said Annie. “Pandas live in China. Polar bears live in the Arctic.”
“That’s right,” said Jack, clearing his throat. “They’re very heavy, polar bears, but they can move over thin sheets of ice. They balance their weight and slide on their paws.”
“Like this,” said Annie. She held out her arms and moved as if she were sliding over ice. She laughed—and the king and his companions laughed with her.
“How wondrous!” the king exclaimed to Aristotle.
“Yes, indeed,” said the philosopher.
The prince, though, looked bored.
“And then there are koala bears,” said Jack.
“Enough about bears!” Alexander said rudely. “Let us talk about the lion hunt I recently went on.”
“Not now!” the king snapped. He looked at Jack. “I want to hear more about the bears.”
Jack cleared his throat. “Actually, koala bears are not bears at all,” he said. He was eager to show off his knowledge in front of the prince. “They’re marsupials. A kangaroo is a marsupial, too.”
“Kang-a-roos?” Alexander said in a mocking voice. “Mar-soop-eels?”
“Kangaroos are as tall as a person,” said Annie, “but they hop like frogs. They can box, too. Like this …” Facing Alexander, she punched the air with her fists.
The prince automatically ducked, making the King’s Companions laugh. The king laughed loudest.
“How foolish she is!” the prince growled.
“Quiet, Alexander, do not be angry,” said his father. “Go on, tell us more,” he said to Jack and Annie. “Do you honor the Greek gods as we do?”
“I’m not sure what you mean by honor,” said Annie. “But we actually met Hercules in Pompeii. Pegasus saved us at the Greek Olympics. They’re favorites of ours.”
The men looked confused. “What?” said the king.
“What I mean,” Annie said quickly, “is that we believe in the power of the imagination and the power of ancient stories. By reading about Hercules and Pegasus, we feel like we know them.”
“Right. And they’re constellations,” said Jack. “So if you look at the stars in the night sky, you’ll see that the old stories are always with us. We are never alone.”
Jack glanced around the room. The king and his companions were smiling and nodding. Only the prince looked unhappy.
“Thank you, Jack. Those are wise words,” said Aristotle.
“Yes, indeed,” said the king. “Aristotle, your young friends are truly amazing. Alexander, you would do well to learn from these two.”
“Learn what?” Alexander asked. “Can this boy mount a chariot moving at full speed? Can he throw a spear farther than a grown man? Can he hunt a lion?”
“No, and he never will,” Annie said. She smiled at the prince. “But Jack’s great at writing. He takes notes and he writes his own stories.”
“Ah … ah!” said Alexander. He sprang to his feet. “Forgive my rudeness,” he said to Jack. “I would like to talk with you alone. Perhaps you can help me.”
Uh-oh, thought Jack.
The prince looked at his father. “May we go?”
Please say no, thought Jack. Alexander made him nervous.
But King Philip nodded. “We hate to lose your company,” he said to Jack, “but it would be good for you to counsel my son.”
“Yes, indeed. Come with me, small visitors from Frog Creek,” said Alexander, beckoning to Jack and Annie.
Jack glanced at Aristotle.
The philosopher looked nervous, too, but he smiled encouragingly and nodded, as if to say, Be brave. Dare again to make fools of yourselves.
As they followed Alexander, Jack wished he hadn’t shown off. What if the prince challenged him to mount a moving chariot? Or hunt a lion? As he followed Alexander out of the room, Annie hurried along with him.
Prince Alexander strode ahead through the courtyard. He led Jack and Annie to a covered porch behind the house.
“So, what would you like us to do for you?” asked Annie, smiling.
Alexander gazed down at her. “Well, I would like a girl to do nothing for me,” he said. “You should be with the other females, cooking and spinning.”
The smile left Annie’s face. “Fine,” she said. “I’ll go back in and hang out with Aristotle.” She started back through the door.
“I’ll go, too,” said Jack, eager to get away from the arrogant prince.
“Halt!” barked Alexander. He looked at Annie. “I will endure you awhile longer. You boast that your brother likes to write things down? Well, now he has something very important to write about: me! Do you have something to write with?” he asked Jack.
“Sure.” Jack pulled out his notebook and pencil.
“When you return to your own country, your writing could bring me lasting fame there,” said Alexander.
“You bet,” said Jack. Writing was easy, he thought. Mounting a moving chariot wasn’t.
“We will walk and talk,” the prince ordered. “Come.” Jack and Annie followed Alexander off the porch, stepping into the hot sunlight.
The prince led them through a garden overlooking the hillside. On a plateau near the bottom of the slope was a long barn with a riding ring.
“You said Hercules is a favorite hero of yours,” the prince said. “Did you know he is my great-great-grandfather?”
“Who? Hercules?” asked Annie.
“Yes. And since he is a son of Zeus, I am a living Greek god myself,” said Alexander.
Whoa, thought Jack. He rolled his eyes.
“You mock me?” Alexander asked.
“No, no, I just got some dust in my eyes,” said Jack. He rubbed his eyes.
“A living Greek god,” said Annie. “Write that down, Jack.”
“Of course,” said Jack. But he wrote:
This guy’s a raving nut.
Annie read Jack’s notes and snickered. Alexander turned and looked at her.
Annie tried to change her snicker into a snort. “Sorry, got some dust up my nose,” she said, scratching her nose.
The prince kept walking and talking. “This means, of course, that when I go to war, I will never lose a battle. Soon I will be master of the universe.”
“Cool,” said Jack. But he wrote:
This guy should be locked up.
Annie glanced at Jack’s notes and stifled a laugh. Alexander looked at her again.
“Dust in my throat,” she said. She coughed.
Alexander kept walking. “You said you went to the Olympics in Greece?” he said. “Well, so have I.”
“Were you competing?” said Jack.
“Of course not. I never compete with other athletes,” the prince said wearily. “I would win every time. I am the greatest living athlete in the world.”
“Amazing,” said Jack. But he wrote:
What a show-off! He could never have friends.
Jack looked up. “More?” he said.
“First I would like to see all you have written so far,” said the prince.
“You would?” said Jack, gulping.
“Yes.”
“Uh—but I’m not finished,” said Jack. “I don’t like to show my writing until I’ve gotten all my notes together.” He closed his notebook and started to put it in his bag.
“I want to read it now,” said the prince, snatching the notebook. He opened it and looked at Jack’s notes. “ ‘A raving nut’? What is that?”
“Um … in our land, a ‘raving nut’
is a very rare and valuable kind of nut,” said Jack.
“Right, by comparing you to a raving nut, Jack’s saying you are very valuable,” added Annie.
Alexander looked at Annie suspiciously, then back at the notebook. “ ‘This guy should be locked up,’ ” he read.
“For protection!” said Annie. “Someone as great as you should be locked up for your own safety. You’re a living Greek god, for goodness’ sake!”
Alexander read more: “ ‘What a show-off!’ ” He looked puzzled. “Show-off?” he asked.
“That means you can’t help showing the world how great you are,” said Jack.
“Ah, that is true,” said Alexander. The prince then read Jack’s last note: “ ‘He could never have friends.’ ” For a second, the prince looked hurt.
“That—uh—I mean it must be really hard for you to find people who are as great as you to hang out with…,” Jack said lamely.
“Hmm,” said Alexander. He closed the notebook and handed it back to Jack. “Perhaps we should compare athletic skills now,” he said.
“Your skills with mine?” said Jack.
“Don’t you want to tell us more about yourself?” Annie asked the prince.
“No, I want to learn more about Jack,” said Alexander. “Let us race one another,” he said to Jack. He pointed down the hill. “To the stable fence and back.”
“I’d rather not,” said Jack.
“You must race me! Now!” the prince ordered.
“Okay, okay,” said Jack. He was a pretty good runner. Maybe he had a chance to win. He put away his pencil and notebook and handed his bag to Annie. Then he knelt down on one knee.
“GO!” shouted Alexander.
The prince sprinted down the hill toward the stable, his purple cloak flying behind him. Jack ran as fast as he could, but Prince Alexander ran much faster.
By the time Jack touched the fence of the stable, Alexander was already running back up the hill. In the searing heat of the late afternoon, Jack struggled to keep going. Halfway up the hill, he felt like he might pass out.
“Come on, Jack! Come on!” yelled Annie.
Alexander stood at the top of the hill, grinning down at him.
When Jack finally reached Alexander and Annie, he wobbled a few steps and collapsed.
“Jack!” Annie cried. She knelt beside him. “Are you okay?”
Alexander walked over to them. Instead of helping Jack up, he just stared down at him. “I think being a winner is much better than being a friend,” the prince said. “Don’t you?”
“No!” said Annie. “You’re mean.”
“All right. I’ll give your brother another chance,” said Alexander. “Would you like to race again, Jack? Or perhaps wrestle?”
Jack didn’t answer. He was just trying to breathe.
“I didn’t think so,” said Alexander. “Perhaps you should compete against girls in the future.”
“Very funny,” Annie said. “Hold on, Prince.” She reached into Jack’s bag and pulled out the tiny bottle. Then she leaned close to Jack and whispered in his ear, “Here, sniff the magic mist. Race him again. Show him!” She slipped the tiny bottle into Jack’s hand.
Jack wrapped his fingers around the bottle. All he had to do was sniff and make a wish to be the greatest athlete in the world. He clutched the bottle tighter.
Then a strange calm came over Jack. He could use Merlin’s magic. But he didn’t really want to. Or need to. Why waste it on a mean, arrogant bully?
“No, I don’t want to race you again,” Jack said. Even though he felt sick, he forced himself to sit up. “You’re clearly a much better athlete than I am.”
The sound of hoofbeats came from the stable below. Men were herding horses into the fenced-in riding ring. Alexander let out a whoop. Without glancing back, he ran down the hill.
Jack and Annie watched the prince climb the fence and join the men and horses in the ring. In the distance, accompanied by his bodyguards and companions, King Philip was heading down to the stable, too.
“You sure you’re okay?” Annie asked Jack.
“I’m fine,” he said, though he still felt woozy from the heat. “Here, put this back.” He handed the bottle to Annie. “He’s not worth it.”
“You’re right,” said Annie.
“I’m totally done with him,” said Jack.
“What about our mission?” Annie asked. “There’s a truth about greatness we’re supposed to learn from him. And we haven’t learned it yet.”
“Yes, we have,” said Jack. “The truth is: he’s not that great.”
Annie held up her finger to show Jack the ring. “I don’t think that’s it. The Ring of Truth isn’t glowing.”
“I don’t care,” Jack said slowly. “I never want to see him again. I don’t trust him. I don’t like him. And I certainly don’t need to learn anything from him.”
Annie sighed. “I agree with you. But what are we going to do?”
“I don’t know.” Jack dropped his head into his hands. His skull was pounding. He felt like he might throw up.
“Do you want to leave Macedonia?” asked Annie.
“No,” said Jack, shaking his head.
“You want to stay?” Annie said.
“No,” said Jack.
“Jack! Annie!” someone shouted.
Jack lifted his head. Aristotle was striding toward them. When he reached them, he looked at Jack and said, “You need water. Come with me.”
Annie helped Jack to his feet. Jack still felt wobbly as they followed Aristotle to a well near the Royal House. He and Annie splashed water from a bucket onto their faces and drank from their cupped hands. The cool, clear water made Jack feel better. “Thank you,” he said.
“Did the prince make a proper fool of you?” Aristotle asked Jack.
“More or less,” said Jack.
“Ah, you are not the only one,” Aristotle said. “It’s because he so greatly fears looking like a fool himself. He is desperate to equal his father’s power and strength.”
“Well, someone needs to remind him he’s only twelve,” said Annie.
Aristotle smiled. “I agree. Where is he now?”
“He ran to see the horses,” said Annie.
“Ah, yes,” said Aristotle, peering down the hill. “The King’s Companions are all eager to see the warhorses a seller has brought from Thessaly. Would you like to see them, too?”
“I love horses,” said Annie. “But …” She looked at Jack.
“You guys go. I’ll wait here,” he said. He didn’t want to be anywhere near Prince Alexander.
“I don’t want to leave you,” said Annie. “Please come with us. Please.”
Jack stared at her and then sighed. “Okay,” he said.
As Aristotle, Jack, and Annie started down the hill, the sun was low in the sky. Jack was silent as Annie chatted with Aristotle. “So do warhorses go to war?” she asked.
Aristotle nodded. “They carry soldiers to war in lands near and far,” he said. “Their speed and strength can help save a man’s life or win a battle.”
“What a hard job,” said Annie.
“Yes, but they are the most honored horses in the kingdom,” said Aristotle.
When Jack, Annie, and Aristotle reached the riding ring, the horses were all standing in a row with grooms attending them. As the King’s Companions watched from outside the fence, King Philip and the small, wiry horse seller walked together down the line, discussing each animal. Alexander walked behind them, looking in the horses’ mouths and feeling their legs.
“The prince loves horses, too,” Aristotle said.
Too bad for the horses, Jack thought.
“What are they looking for?” Annie asked.
“Thick bones, strong teeth, and a good bend in the knees,” said Aristotle, “a broad chest and high-set neck, bony head, large nostrils, a thick mane, small ears.”
“That’s a lot,” Annie said.
The king came to the end of
the line and began to haggle with the horse seller. Alexander tried to be part of the conversation, but his father silenced him. Jack almost felt sorry for the prince. King Philip pointed to a couple of horses. The horse seller nodded, and then the grooms led all the horses from the riding ring back into the barn.
The setting sun flashed over the hillside. “The horse trading is over for today,” said Aristotle. “It will resume at daylight tomorrow.”
Suddenly a black stallion bolted from the barn. Several grooms ran after him. The stallion was stunningly beautiful. As he trotted around the ring, the light of the setting sun seemed to set his dark coat and mane on fire. He held his head high and arched his neck. He had small ears and wide eyes.
“That must be the magnificent horse I have heard so much about,” said Aristotle.
“Who is he?” asked Annie.
“His name is Bucephalus,” said Aristotle. “He once belonged to the Royal Horse Master of Thessaly.”
When the stallion slowed to a walk, a groom approached him and tried to grab his bridle. But as the man’s shadow fell over Bucephalus, the stallion neighed and bucked. He broke away from the man and backed against the fence. His ears were flat against his head. His eyes were wild.
“What’s going on?” said Annie.
“He was once a noble warhorse,” said Aristotle. “But ever since he was captured in battle, he has not let any rider mount him.”
“Why?” asked Annie.
“No one knows,” said Aristotle. “But the seller insists he can be tamed again and wants a bag of gold for him.”
A groom threw a rope around the horse’s neck. Another brought out a whip.
“What’s that for?” asked Annie.
The groom cracked the whip on the ground.
“No!” shouted Prince Alexander. “Put the whip down!”
The groom cracked the whip again. The horse reared up. Arching his neck, he kicked his hooves, almost trampling the man who held the whip. The grooms jumped back to avoid being crushed.
“No!” shouted Alexander again, rushing forward. “Do not hit him!” He grabbed the whip from the groom and threw it to the ground.
Stallion by Starlight Page 3