repeated the command and the movement, this time keeping the pressure on.
Pegasus glided smoothly toward the ground. Flushed with success, his rider used two commands simultaneously, trying to make the stallion bank left while descending. It responded immediately, almost enthusiastically, as though realizing for the first time that it had found a wonderful new game.
They were just above the surface, near the pond where Ammon stood waiting. "Hup!" Perseus took his hands off the ironlike neck, pulled gently on the mane. The horse backed air with its great wings, nearly knocking poor Ammon down again, and touched down as lightly as a hummingbird.
Carefully Perseus slid off the back, his hands still entwined in the mane. But Pegasus was as tired as he. It showed no signs of bolting, stood quietly nodding its head and breathing hard. There was no telltale tenseness in its neck muscles.
Slowly Perseus slipped his fingers free of the mane, patted the quivering neck. The horse bent and inhaled the fragrance of several night-blooming flowers. Then it began to eat.
"The most wonderful stallion in the world," Perseus murmured reverently as Ammon hobbled over. "Not another like it." His gaze went skyward.
"Ah, Ammon, my friend, to ride in the emptiness between earth and stars, to feel the wind in your face . . . I wish I were a poet like you, so that I could properly describe the sensation."
"And I wish I were a young man like you, so that I could experience it," Ammon replied, breathing harder than the horse. "You felt no fear, then?"
"Me? Why, of course!" His smile softened and he looked away. "At first I was utterly terrified. If I'd been given the chance I think I might have given up, let go. But the one place Pegasus did not fly me was close to the ground. I had to tame him or die." He gazed admiringly at the stallion as he talked.
"But once he sensed that I meant him no harm, when he felt comfortable with me, he relaxed, as did I. He is responsive to command and willing to obey, as smart a horse as ever I've ridden."
Pegasus looked up at him, his mouth full of flowers, and whinnied. He nudged Perseus with his muzzle. All the rage had gone from his noble face.
"See, he is more than responsive," said Ammon delightedly. "He likes you. Horse or men, it's all the same when it comes to friendship and understanding. He speaks to you with actions instead of words, but they are just as comprehensible."
Perseus nodded, wiping sweat from his face. He stumbled once and Ammon looked alarmed.
"You all right my boy? How do you feel?"
"Thirsty."
"I dare say. Excitement will dry a body out faster than the desert sun at midday. You sweated across half the sky, may the stars forgive you! I could do with something wet and cold myself. But we've neither amphora nor cups."
"I know just the thing." Perseus walked away, heading toward the water. "Stay with him."
"But I . . ." Ammon went quiet, looked up at the powerful animal. Nervously, he patted the white neck. It was like patting an anvil.
"Now then, don't fret, don't fret, my birdlike friend. Your master will be back in a moment. You don't frighten me, you know. You're only a horse, even if you can fly, even if you are gifted by the gods, even if you could trample me to a small, wet pulp under your hooves. No, you don't frighten me. Like Hades you don't.
"I should have brought an apple for you. Or maybe a pine cone. But I can't think of everything, can I? I'm only a poor old playwright. Be good, and I'll write you a sonnet some day."
The stallion reared slightly and whinnied. Ammon stayed close, tried to speak reassuringly. It was difficult, however, considering the quaver in his voice.
"Be good now, great Pegasus, master of the sky. Perhaps you'd prefer a whole play, eh?" He looked anxiously toward the water. What was that boy up to, and what was keeping him?
"Here it is!" came the call from the shoreline a moment later. Perseus's outline bent, his actions concealed by darkness.
Pegasus glided smoothly toward the ground. Flushed with success, his rider used two commands simultaneously, trying to make the stallion bank left while descending. It responded immediately, almost enthusiastically, as though realizing for the first time that it had found a wonderful new game.
They were just above the surface, near the pond where Ammon stood waiting. "Hup!" Perseus took his hands off the ironlike neck, pulled gently on the mane. The horse backed air with its great wings, nearly knocking poor Ammon down again, and touched down as lightly as a hummingbird.
Carefully Perseus slid off the back, his hands still entwined in the mane. But Pegasus was as tired as he. It showed no signs of bolting, stood quietly nodding its head and breathing hard. There was no telltale tenseness in its neck muscles.
Slowly Perseus slipped his fingers free of the mane, patted the quivering neck. The horse bent and inhaled the fragrance of several night-blooming flowers. Then it began to eat.
"The most wonderful stallion in the world," Perseus murmured reverently as Ammon hobbled over. "Not another like it." His gaze went skyward.
"Ah, Ammon, my friend, to ride in the emptiness between earth and stars, to feel the wind in your face . . . I wish I were a poet like you, so that I could properly describe the sensation."
"And I wish I were a young man like you, so that I could experience it," Ammon replied, breathing harder than the horse. "You felt no fear, then?"
"Me? Why, of course!" His smile softened and he looked away. "At first I was utterly terrified. If I'd been given the chance I think I might have given up, let go. But the one place Pegasus did not fly me was close to the ground. I had to tame him or die." He gazed admiringly at the stallion as he talked.
"But once he sensed that I meant him no harm, when he felt comfortable with me, he relaxed, as did I. He is responsive to command and willing to obey, as smart a horse as ever I've ridden."
Pegasus looked up at him, his mouth full of flowers, and whinnied. He nudged Perseus with his muzzle. All the rage had gone from his noble face.
"See, he is more than responsive," said Ammon delightedly. "He likes you. Horse or men, it's all the same when it comes to friendship and understanding. He speaks to you with actions instead of words, but they are just as comprehensible."
Perseus nodded, wiping sweat from his face. He stumbled once and Ammon looked alarmed.
"You all right my boy? How do you feel?"
"Thirsty."
"I dare say. Excitement will dry a body out faster than the desert sun at midday. You sweated across half the sky, may the stars forgive you! I could do with something wet and cold myself. But we've neither amphora nor cups."
"I know just the thing." Perseus walked away, heading toward the water. "Stay with him."
"But I . . ." Ammon went quiet, looked up at the powerful animal. Nervously, he patted the white neck. It was like patting an anvil.
"Now then, don't fret, don't fret, my birdlike friend. Your master will be back in a moment. You don't frighten me, you know. You're only a horse, even if you can fly, even if you are gifted by the gods, even if you could trample me to a small, wet pulp under your hooves. No, you don't frighten me. Like Hades you don't.
"I should have brought an apple for you. Or maybe a pine cone. But I can't think of everything, can I? I'm only a poor old playwright. Be good, and I'll write you a sonnet some day."
The stallion reared slightly and whinnied. Ammon stayed close, tried to speak reassuringly. It was difficult, however, considering the quaver in his voice.
"Be good now, great Pegasus, master of the sky. Perhaps you'd prefer a whole play, eh?" He looked anxiously toward the water. What was that boy up to, and what was keeping him?
"Here it is!" came the call from the shoreline a moment later. Perseus's outline bent, his actions concealed by darkness.
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