Post by Peregrine on Jan 3, 2008 20:24:31 GMT -5
The Bridle of Bucephalus
By: Peregrine Alexander
Authors note: This is not part of the real story of Peregrine Alexander. This is just the first piece that I typed. I don’t like I much. Everyone’s character is slightly different in this story. Enjoy!
Frost covered the roof of one of the barns as 14-year-old Peregrine Alexander opened his eyes. Grunting with annoyance, he threw back his warm wool blankets as the cold morning air raised goose bumps on his skin. He hated getting up, especially for school, but at least it was the last day until summer vacation. He dressed quickly as possible and headed for the kitchen.
Breakfast was a riot as usual. Peregrine had a brother, three sisters, and five cousins on his father’s side that lived with them. Plus his mother and father and aunt and uncle. At that moment, all his relatives were located in the kitchen. After about two minutes, Peregrine gave up trying to make himself heard above all the noise and instead just grabbed a piece of bread and some goat cheese, before heading out to the barn to saddle his horse so he could ride to school.
He seemed to relax as he stepped outside and walked alone down to the barn. The Alexander family was very rich. They owned hundreds of acres of land and farmed everything imaginable, although they were the leading producers of goats in the area.
Peregrine’s father and uncle, Paladin and Philip Alexander had lived side-by-side ever since they were babies. The problem was, they expected their offspring to do the same. This was impossible because all ten Alexander kids seemed to spread out like the three stooges gone bad.
Peregrine was the eldest, born January 1st at 12:00 midnight. Peter, Peregrine’s uncle’s first son, was born a day after him and Peregrine never let him forget it.
As Peregrine walked down the barn aisle, he saw his horse, Vollo stick his black head out of his stall door and blow hard out of his nose to greet his master.
Peregrine’s practiced hands flew over the straps and buckles on Vollo’s saddle and bridle. His steed craned his head around to watch him as he worked.
Vollo rose to 17.2 hands and was Holsteiner, making him
both speedy and powerful. Peregrine had won him at a competition at their local fair two years ago. Back then Vollo was crazy.
Every year rangers brought a wild horse to the fair. Then they would let whoever was foolish enough to ride the bucking animal have a go. Whoever managed to ride the horse until it stopped bucking, won it. When Vollo was brought in, Peregrine could see that he was no ordinary wild horse, he was somebody’s warhorse prospect that hadn’t turned out right. So he made the decision to ride the horse. Vollo had bucked for a few seconds and then to everyone’s amazement, calmed while Peregrine was riding him.
Loud chatter interrupted Peregrine’s thoughts. His relatives had arrived. Leading Vollo out of the barn, he nimbly vaulted into his saddle, before someone decided they needed help catching their horse and saw him unmounted and a potential horse-catcher.
The road to school was normally quite crowded, and today was no exception. Kids in wagons and carts, but mostly on horseback rode to school all talking noisily. Peregrine rode far in front of his siblings and cousins and before long his best friend Diamond Hawk rode up next to him.
“Did you finish the math assignment?” She asked him.
“Yeah,” He replied darkly, “But the cruel torture nearly ruined my brain.” Math was Peregrine’s worst subject. It was also Diamond’s best and favorite.
“Listen,” She said, lowering her voice, “I got a tip-off last night that Graymalkin is at it again.”
Peregrine groaned. Graymalkin was the man who had chased them ever since they were eleven, trying to seize power for his master, some bureaucrat in service to the king, at every opportunity that presented itself. Peregrine, Diamond, and their best friend Shasta, had been foiling his plans of glory for the past three years, only now they had paid the price. Graymalkin was also out to kill them.
“What’s the plan?” Peregrine asked.
“We’ll have to do some serious digging.” Diamond said.
By digging, she meant that they would have to dig into the ground to get into Graymalkin’s house. If you could call it a house. It was more like a damp, depressing hole. Not fun. And of course, there was the 75% chance you would get killed. Not fun at all.
Peregrine was preoccupied all the way through school that day, trying not to think about breaking into Graymalkin’s residence, and thinking about nothing but that. So he instead attempted to concentrate his energy on sending Shasta a note “code”.
Let’s bury the dead, evil cat this afternoon.
Which acurally translated into,
Let’s break into Graymalkin’s house this afternoon, and nearly get killed or burned alive, or decapitated, or drowned, or devoured by a man-eating lobster, or eaten away by lots of hydro-fluoric acid.
Later that day Peter gave Peregrine a list of things they needed at the market because he, Peter, didn’t feel like picking them up. However, before leaving school to do the chore, Peregrine threw rocks and a retreating Peter’s head.
Shasta accompanied Peregrine to the market as Peregrine bought salt and paper. They were both admiring the selection of saddle blankets for sale, when Shasta said,
“Um, Pippin, Graymalkin’s here.”
“What? Well, what are you waiting for? Hide!”
Both boys dove behind a nearby fish-seller’s booth. They both watched through a hole in the tablecloth. They saw Graymalkin lean against a wall and wait as a man in black strolled up to him.
“I need that bridle soon, Graymalkin.” He said in a hoarse voice.
“I plan to set sail for Greece tomorrow, master.” Graymalkin squeaked. “But I am lacking certain finances.”
“Oh money, money, money, is that all I hear?” the man in black growled. “Here, take the stupid coins!”
He threw the currency into air and let the coins fall to the ground.
“I want that bridle in fourteen days, dog.”
“But fourteen days is not enough to sail across the earth and obtain a bridle from some long-dead horse’s tomb! It’s not even known for sure if Bucephalus existed!”
“Fourteen days.” Then the man turned and left.
Peregrine and Shasta waited as Graymalkin quickly picked up the fallen coins and scurried away. They emerged from their hiding spot slightly shaken.
“We have to tell Diamond this.” Shasta said immediately, “She might have a plan.”
“Bucephalus was the legendary warhorse of Alexander the Great. He even had a city named after him.
“Yeah, I know, Alexandria.” Shasta said.
“No, not Alexander, the horse, Bucephalus.”
“Great. Let’s go running around in Greece looking for dead horses and ripping bridles off their faces.” Shasta said. “Sounds fabulous.”
Peregrine and Shasta did not talk much on the way over to Diamond’s. Each was thinking furiously.
Peregrine knew that Alexander the Great had had Bucephalus given to him when he was twelve because he was the only one in the King Philip’s army able to ride the horse without it bucking. Alexander probably owed many of his victories to Bucephalus, as he rode him into every battle. Bucephalus had died when he was 30 years old, and Alexander had died a few days later, at the age of 33.
Peregrine and Shasta found that Diamond was digging through tools trying to find three shovels.
“There’s been a change of plans.” Peregrine informed her.
They told her. Her face darkened with every word she heard.
“It looks as if we’ll have to set sail on The Phantom tomorrow and trail Graymalkin on his ship.” Shasta said, worriedly.
“Right.” Said Diamond. “Get permission from your parents to be gone for fourteen days on a nice cruise to Greece where you just might be killed. Sounds like a plan.”
By: Peregrine Alexander
Authors note: This is not part of the real story of Peregrine Alexander. This is just the first piece that I typed. I don’t like I much. Everyone’s character is slightly different in this story. Enjoy!
Frost covered the roof of one of the barns as 14-year-old Peregrine Alexander opened his eyes. Grunting with annoyance, he threw back his warm wool blankets as the cold morning air raised goose bumps on his skin. He hated getting up, especially for school, but at least it was the last day until summer vacation. He dressed quickly as possible and headed for the kitchen.
Breakfast was a riot as usual. Peregrine had a brother, three sisters, and five cousins on his father’s side that lived with them. Plus his mother and father and aunt and uncle. At that moment, all his relatives were located in the kitchen. After about two minutes, Peregrine gave up trying to make himself heard above all the noise and instead just grabbed a piece of bread and some goat cheese, before heading out to the barn to saddle his horse so he could ride to school.
He seemed to relax as he stepped outside and walked alone down to the barn. The Alexander family was very rich. They owned hundreds of acres of land and farmed everything imaginable, although they were the leading producers of goats in the area.
Peregrine’s father and uncle, Paladin and Philip Alexander had lived side-by-side ever since they were babies. The problem was, they expected their offspring to do the same. This was impossible because all ten Alexander kids seemed to spread out like the three stooges gone bad.
Peregrine was the eldest, born January 1st at 12:00 midnight. Peter, Peregrine’s uncle’s first son, was born a day after him and Peregrine never let him forget it.
As Peregrine walked down the barn aisle, he saw his horse, Vollo stick his black head out of his stall door and blow hard out of his nose to greet his master.
Peregrine’s practiced hands flew over the straps and buckles on Vollo’s saddle and bridle. His steed craned his head around to watch him as he worked.
Vollo rose to 17.2 hands and was Holsteiner, making him
both speedy and powerful. Peregrine had won him at a competition at their local fair two years ago. Back then Vollo was crazy.
Every year rangers brought a wild horse to the fair. Then they would let whoever was foolish enough to ride the bucking animal have a go. Whoever managed to ride the horse until it stopped bucking, won it. When Vollo was brought in, Peregrine could see that he was no ordinary wild horse, he was somebody’s warhorse prospect that hadn’t turned out right. So he made the decision to ride the horse. Vollo had bucked for a few seconds and then to everyone’s amazement, calmed while Peregrine was riding him.
Loud chatter interrupted Peregrine’s thoughts. His relatives had arrived. Leading Vollo out of the barn, he nimbly vaulted into his saddle, before someone decided they needed help catching their horse and saw him unmounted and a potential horse-catcher.
The road to school was normally quite crowded, and today was no exception. Kids in wagons and carts, but mostly on horseback rode to school all talking noisily. Peregrine rode far in front of his siblings and cousins and before long his best friend Diamond Hawk rode up next to him.
“Did you finish the math assignment?” She asked him.
“Yeah,” He replied darkly, “But the cruel torture nearly ruined my brain.” Math was Peregrine’s worst subject. It was also Diamond’s best and favorite.
“Listen,” She said, lowering her voice, “I got a tip-off last night that Graymalkin is at it again.”
Peregrine groaned. Graymalkin was the man who had chased them ever since they were eleven, trying to seize power for his master, some bureaucrat in service to the king, at every opportunity that presented itself. Peregrine, Diamond, and their best friend Shasta, had been foiling his plans of glory for the past three years, only now they had paid the price. Graymalkin was also out to kill them.
“What’s the plan?” Peregrine asked.
“We’ll have to do some serious digging.” Diamond said.
By digging, she meant that they would have to dig into the ground to get into Graymalkin’s house. If you could call it a house. It was more like a damp, depressing hole. Not fun. And of course, there was the 75% chance you would get killed. Not fun at all.
Peregrine was preoccupied all the way through school that day, trying not to think about breaking into Graymalkin’s residence, and thinking about nothing but that. So he instead attempted to concentrate his energy on sending Shasta a note “code”.
Let’s bury the dead, evil cat this afternoon.
Which acurally translated into,
Let’s break into Graymalkin’s house this afternoon, and nearly get killed or burned alive, or decapitated, or drowned, or devoured by a man-eating lobster, or eaten away by lots of hydro-fluoric acid.
Later that day Peter gave Peregrine a list of things they needed at the market because he, Peter, didn’t feel like picking them up. However, before leaving school to do the chore, Peregrine threw rocks and a retreating Peter’s head.
Shasta accompanied Peregrine to the market as Peregrine bought salt and paper. They were both admiring the selection of saddle blankets for sale, when Shasta said,
“Um, Pippin, Graymalkin’s here.”
“What? Well, what are you waiting for? Hide!”
Both boys dove behind a nearby fish-seller’s booth. They both watched through a hole in the tablecloth. They saw Graymalkin lean against a wall and wait as a man in black strolled up to him.
“I need that bridle soon, Graymalkin.” He said in a hoarse voice.
“I plan to set sail for Greece tomorrow, master.” Graymalkin squeaked. “But I am lacking certain finances.”
“Oh money, money, money, is that all I hear?” the man in black growled. “Here, take the stupid coins!”
He threw the currency into air and let the coins fall to the ground.
“I want that bridle in fourteen days, dog.”
“But fourteen days is not enough to sail across the earth and obtain a bridle from some long-dead horse’s tomb! It’s not even known for sure if Bucephalus existed!”
“Fourteen days.” Then the man turned and left.
Peregrine and Shasta waited as Graymalkin quickly picked up the fallen coins and scurried away. They emerged from their hiding spot slightly shaken.
“We have to tell Diamond this.” Shasta said immediately, “She might have a plan.”
“Bucephalus was the legendary warhorse of Alexander the Great. He even had a city named after him.
“Yeah, I know, Alexandria.” Shasta said.
“No, not Alexander, the horse, Bucephalus.”
“Great. Let’s go running around in Greece looking for dead horses and ripping bridles off their faces.” Shasta said. “Sounds fabulous.”
Peregrine and Shasta did not talk much on the way over to Diamond’s. Each was thinking furiously.
Peregrine knew that Alexander the Great had had Bucephalus given to him when he was twelve because he was the only one in the King Philip’s army able to ride the horse without it bucking. Alexander probably owed many of his victories to Bucephalus, as he rode him into every battle. Bucephalus had died when he was 30 years old, and Alexander had died a few days later, at the age of 33.
Peregrine and Shasta found that Diamond was digging through tools trying to find three shovels.
“There’s been a change of plans.” Peregrine informed her.
They told her. Her face darkened with every word she heard.
“It looks as if we’ll have to set sail on The Phantom tomorrow and trail Graymalkin on his ship.” Shasta said, worriedly.
“Right.” Said Diamond. “Get permission from your parents to be gone for fourteen days on a nice cruise to Greece where you just might be killed. Sounds like a plan.”