Peter was scrubbing a huge pot in the kitchen when he heard the sound of spitting and hissing. Ronnie came into the house with a smirk on his face. He carried a cage filled with what looked like a ball of brown curly fluff. He poked at the fluff and pulled at its ears.
Peter leaned over Ronald’s shoulder. “Oh,” he exclaimed, “it’s a cat!”
Indeed, it was a cat, a slender ball of curly brown fur with almond-shaped brown eyes and little paws with long, sharp claws. Ronald rolled his eyes. “Of course it’s a cat, dummy! Father bought this cat to catch mice in the barnyard.”
Peter thought he imagined it, but it looked like the cat grimaced at the very mention of catching mice!
Ronald poked at the cage again. The cat hissed and swiped at him, claws outstretched. Ronald shook the cage in annoyance. “Knock it off, Sir Dolenz, before I turn you into a muff.”
Peter frowned. “Sir Dolenz? And I thought you hated cats!”
“That’s this mangy animal’s name.” Ronald sneezed. “And I DO hate cats. I’m allergic to them. Buying this cat was Father’s idea.” He put his hand in the cage to squeeze the cat and was rewarded with three deep claw marks in his knuckle. The sorcerer’s son let out a cry and pulled back. “Why you...” He murmured a few words to himself when Peter’s back was turned. When Peter returned, the cat’s paws were bound with rope. The brown feline cried and tried to bite the knots, but he couldn’t reach them.
“That’ll hold you.” He grabbed the cage and leaned over it with a hiss that matched the cat’s. “May I remind you of your predicament, Sir Dolenz?” He sneezed again. “I could turn you into anything I want! I’m going to marry your princess, and there’s nothing you or your idiot friends can do...do...d...” Another sneeze, this one so forceful, it knocked Ronald back several steps “...Do about it.”
He threw the cage at Peter, who just barely managed to hold onto it. “I don’t care what Father says about mice in the barn! Take this thing to the river and throw the cage in!” He looked at his hand. “Some of Father’s friends from town are coming to look at new horses this afternoon. I can’t be bleeding all over them.”
“You want me to drown him?” Peter was shocked his brother even suggested doing such a thing to an innocent creature! “I couldn’t...”
“Yes, you can! It scratched me! I might need stitches!” He practically shoved Peter out the door. “GO! Get that fleabitten ball of hair out of my sight!”
Peter got halfway to the river before he finally stopped and sat down on a log. He put the cage in front of him. The cat wailed and mewed helplessly, trying hard to move his legs.
“I can’t do it,” Peter said simply. “I can’t drown you. It isn’t fair. It’s not your fault Ronald is allergic to you.” He frowned. “He was so mean to you, too, tying you up like that! After all, you’re as much of a living, breathing creature as we are!”
He took a rock from the road and used it to break open the lock on the cage. He put his hand in to help the cat out, but it swiped at him, hissing. “Sir Dolenz, don’t worry! I’m not going to hurt you. I want to help you.” He gently tugged and pulled at the ropes until the cat was free. He let it sniff his hand, laughing when the cat’s whiskers brushed his fingers. “Hey, that tickles!”
The cat jumped onto his shoulder, licking his cheek. “Cut that out!” he laughed. “I’ll have to find you a nice home. I don’t think Ronald would be too happy if I kept you after he wanted me to get rid of you.” Peter sighed. “I wish I could keep you, though. I get lonely sometimes. There’s no one in the house I can really talk to. I wish I had some friends.”
That was when Peter heard a howl. Sir Dolenz’s ears pricked. It was the pained, high-pitched howl of a small dog. It was followed by a whimper, a thump, and the snickers of humans.
Peter followed the canine cries to an old shack on the edge of the river. Two big, hairy fishermen chugged whiskey out of fat brown jugs. They threw the empty ones at a small brown dog, who raced around the room, dodging them. It would have been a very pretty dog if it wasn’t completely terrified. It had wide liquid brown eyes like a deer’s, shiny brown fur, and long, floppy ears that slapped against its tiny body. They called the little pup Jones and laughed when a large piece of jug barely missed it’s ear.
One of the men looked up at Peter and belched. “What are you doin’ here, Sonny? This is our house, an’ we don’t take kindly to trespassers.”
Peter gulped. Those men were BIG. “I know I’m tresspassing, but I heard that poor dog, and...”
The other man stood, a tad unsteadily. He was bigger than Peter both ways, with arms that bulged out of his threadbare tunic. “You don’t get out in five minutes, Sonny, an’ you’ll be gettin’ worse than the mutt. We sell fish to Lord Babbitt an’ his household. Lord Babbitt liked today’s catch so much, he gave us the dog in exchange for everything in the net.” The man made a face. “He got the better deal. That critter’s too scrawny for catchin’ fish, an’ he won’t go after mice.”
“Why don’t I take him off your hands?”
“What’cha got to trade, Sonny?” Peter put his hands in his pockets. “Uh...” He pulled out a few coins and a shiny clear pebble. “I have two pennies and a piece of rock crystal I found by the river. That has to be worth something.” Neither man looked impressed. Peter dug further into his pockets. “Wait, I have more...”
All of a sudden, the man let out a screech and jumped two feet! Sir Dolenz was attatched to his back and digging his claws into his tunic, a wide smile spread across his brown-furred muzzle. Peter took the opportunity to drop the pennies and rock on a table, grab the dog, and race out the door. Sir Dolenz leaped off the fisherman’s back and followed close behind.
Peter didn’t stop to look over his shoulder until he was at the edge of the farmyard. “Whew! That was a close one.” He gazed down at the dog in his arms, who still so scared, his teeth chattered. “Are you ok, boy? Anything broken?” The dog shook it’s head and squirmed as Peter ran his fingers over his tiny body. “You seem to be in good shape. I wonder why Father gave you to those fishermen? They don’t know how to take care of animals!” He stroked the dog’s head. “They called you Jones, right? I guess for Davy Jones’ Locker; they ARE fishermen.” The dog nodded and wagged his tail.
He finally set Jones on the ground. The dog trotted over to Sir Dolenz, his eyes wide in surprise. He gave Sir Dolenz a small cuff on the ear with his paw. Sir Dolenz grinned and cuffed him in return, and soon the two were rolling around on the dirt of the farmyard, meowing and barking.
“I see you know each other.” Peter finally pried them apart. They lay on the ground, panting...and laughing! He’d never heard a dog or cat laugh, but it seemed like that’s what their soft growls were supposed to be. He laughed, too. “A cat and a dog who are friends! That settles it.” He took both into his arms. “I can’t separate you now. I don’t care what Ronnie says. I have to keep both of you.”
He headed over to the main house to ask Father if he could have the animals. He was sure he’d understand if he explained nicely that the cat and dog were pals and he wanted help keeping mice out of the barn. He’d feed them and brush them and take care of them, and they’d never have to go in the main house and make Ronald sneeze.
He found his father and his brother at the horses’ stables after Cook told him he had some new stallions to sell to local horse dealers. One of the horses was making a terrible racket, bucking and stamping on and biting and struggling away from any man who tried to control him.
Peter got closer, watching in shocked silence as the men beat the horse with whips and rope. The horse was a handsome animal, a sleek stallion with dark chestnut hair, a glossy black mane that fell over his muzzle, and a white streak down the center of his forhead. His deep brown eyes were wild and full of angry fire.
“Damn it, Sir Nesmith!” Lord Henry jumped in, grabbing the horse’s long, thick mane. “I’ll tame you myself if I have to!” He made a heavy black leather bridle and a long black whip appear from behind his back. “You’ll be a pack animal if I have to wallop you until you can’t move!”
Lord Henry unbuckled the bridle. “This is magic,” he murmured. “It’ll calm those nerves of yours, Nesmith, make you more open to being sold.”
The horse went absolutely insane, jumping at the sight of the bridle and kicking and bucking more wildly than before! The men whipped him harder and threw ropes around his neck.
Peter couldn’t stand it anymore. “Stop! Stop it!” He raced over to the horse, the dog and the cat still in his arms. “Please don’t hurt him! You’re scaring him more!”
“Get out of the way, you little idiot!” Lord Henry growled. “You don’t know anything about taming a horse! You’re just a kitchen boy.”
“You don’t tame them by hurting them!” Peter insisted. “You do it by showing them love and gaining their trust.” He made a face. “I may be a kitchen boy, but I know how to treat people and animals.”
Ronald snorted. “Oh p...p...” He let out such a sneeze, he nearly fell into a pile of hay. “...please.”
“Let him try,” laughed one man. “Couldn’t hurt.”
“Yeah!” added another man with a smirk. “Let the scullery kid do it!”
Peter went quietly over to the angry horse. He wasn’t bucking as much as a few moments ago, but Peter could tell from the rage in his eyes and the way his nostrils flared that he was still upset. “Don’t worry, boy,” Peter said softly into the horse’s ear. “I’m not going to hurt you. I’m here to help you.”
Peter tried to reach for the horse’s mane, but he pulled back again, still nervous...until he saw the cat and the dog in Peter’s other arm. He nudged them gently, first the cat, then the dog. The cat and the dog barked and meowed, both wide-eyed. The horse nodded.
The cat let out a whoop and climbed onto the top of the horses’ head; the dog got on his back, looking very much like he belonged there. The cat cuffed the horse’s ear; the horse tried to knock him off his head, but the cat held on, making his growls of laughter again.
“Would ya look at that?” said a third man. “Them three critters are best buddies already, and they’ve only seen each other for a few minutes!”
Peter laughed. “Good horse.” He reached for the horse’s muzzle; this time, he let him. The horse had the most velvety muzzle Peter ever felt, softer than the softest cloth ever spun. “I think I heard Father say your name is Nesmith?” The horse nodded. “Unusual name for a horse, but that seems to be what you respond to.” He smiled. “Ok, boy, we’re going to give you to Father...”
At the mention of Lord Henry, the horse snorted and started to buck again. The cat and dog let out frightened squeals and tried to hold on. They started patting the horse’s back and head. Peter took their lead and stroked his mane. “Ok, I guess I’m not giving you to Father then. You don’t seem to like him very much.” The animals helped too, making noises quietly into the horse’s ear.
Peter turned to his thoroughly annoyed adopted parent. “Father,” he said eagerly, “may I keep the animals? All of them? The cat can stay outside. I know Ronald’s alergic to him.”
“B...b...b...” Ronald sneezed again. “But Father...those are...”
Lord Henry put his hand out to silence his son and turned to Peter. “Fine, boy, but this will cost you. You never did finish scrubbing the pots, and the rugs need to be beaten, and the barn needs to be cleaned from top to bottom.”
Peter grinned. “Oh thank you, Father! I’ll take the best care of them, and I’ll make sure they never disturb you or Ronald.” Sir Dolenz stuck his little pink tongue out at Ronald. Ronald tried to take a swipe at him but sneezed again.
Peter wasn’t sure what happened, but he thought it looked like Sir Nesmith put out a long, thin leg in front of Ronald. At any rate, Ronald went flying into a pile of hay and manure near the horses’ stall, flailing and sneezing in anger. The cat and dog made their laugh-like sounds again. The horse let out a long, happy neigh. Even Peter couldn’t resist a snicker as several men tried to help the dirt-covered boy out of the pile.
“Father, have you gone mad?” Ronald wailed as Peter took his new pets to the barn. “I though you wanted to get rid of them!”
“What better way to keep them out of our hair than leave them with a gullible, stupid servant? He doesn’t know who or what they are, and they can’t tell him.” He smirked. “And if he does start to catch on, we’ll take care of them. All of them. The idiot, too.”
Ronald’s smirk matched his father’s. “Right.”
Chapter 1
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