Transcript
Book 1, Chapter Three: The Taming of Bucephalus, Pages 47 and 48
a monstrous roar erupts from the horse as it rears in fury. Before Philip could let go of the reins,
the beast swings its mighty head away from the king
and tosses him unceremoniously to the dirt, before fleeing
amidst the distressed wailing of itself, the other horses and one, frightened merchant.
“Aaaaa oh no! Philip!”
Philonicus dashes towards the king, who had fallen to the ground with nothing damaged… but his pride.
“Philip! I warned you!”
“Ai, nevermind!” Philip waves old Philonicus away with a hand. His annoyance is beginning to build, not towards the horse or the merchant however. Rather…
“One of you!” He shouts. A voice loud and rough by years of war. A pointed finger, directed at his entourage on the other side of the fence. “What are you waiting for?! Tame him!”
And so they must.
Chapter Three 047-048
In the thumbnail version of this spread, I wrote ‘PANIC! at the stables’ in lieu of sketching the horses.
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