“Ha, ha,” laughed the Brass Head. The glare of the sun bounced off his enormous metallic helmet, blinding them. “Guards, take these two ashore for their last meal.” Three giants almost as huge as their master came striding through the surf, glaring at the twins with bloodthirsty eyes. The first carried a bow and arrow, the second a club, the third a battle ax. They led Castor and Pollux to the  castle where the brothers were served stew too foul to eat. Thrown into the dungeon, they were left alone in the dark. But they were not quite alone. At midnight, a dark figure slipped into their cell. She touched Castor’s eyes, pressing down gently. Then she did the same to Pollux. She stood there a moment, breathing softly, then turned and disappeared into the night.