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Authors: J.D. Oswald
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knows things. Oh yes, he does. He can do things to you. Bad things.’
‘Like forcing you to parade in front of some king like a performing animal?’
‘Oh no. Much worse, much worse. He can steal your memories from you.’
The sun was well below the horizon now, and the only light came from its reflection on the few high clouds sitting motionless in the evening sky. Benfro half-listened to the other dragon’s words, responded because there was very little else he could do. His companion was completely mad, and he wondered how long it would take for him to get the same way.
‘How can he steal your memories? Don’t you mean he just makes you forget things?’
In the deepening gloom, Benfro saw the bulk of the
other dragon shift, shuffling in a stoop across the wagon to drop beside him. He was smaller than Benfro, withered with age and the treatment he had received at the hands of Loghtan and Tegwin. Benfro wondered how many decades he had been with the circus; how long it had taken for his spirit to be completely broken.
‘See here, young Gog. See here.’ The dragon turned his head away from Benfro, angling it as if he was trying to show something behind his ears. Benfro looked more closely at the leathery skin and fine scales. There was a rippled ridge of scar tissue running across the back of the dragon’s head, perhaps a hand’s width across.
‘He takes away your memories.’
It wasn’t hard to follow the route taken by the circus, but Errol found it impossible to catch up. Every time he stopped, the wagons had passed through some days earlier or camped for a night and then gone on without doing a show, much to the disappointment of the locals. It was the considered opinion of almost everyone he spoke to that the circus was heading as fast as possible for the capital, there to perform in front of the king.
‘But they’ve left it very late.’ The barmaid in this tavern was much like any number of barmaids he had seen in similar inns along the way. ‘It’s most unlike old Loghtan to be so late. Normally he’d have been through here a month ago, doing shows in every town until he reached the capital. Must have been something very special to keep him up in the northlands all that time.’
‘I heard he’d captured a new dragon.’ Errol watched the woman for any sign that she had heard this rumour
from anyone else. It was too much of a coincidence for it to be anyone other than Loghtan’s circus that had captured Benfro, but still he was plagued by the worry that he might be chasing the wrong quarry, and into the depths of the enemy’s lair too.
‘Well, I dare say that’d keep him back. But he’s losing a lot of money not doing all these shows, and that’s not like Loghtan.’
Errol chatted for a while longer, until his meal was ready, then retired to a table by the fire to eat. It had been a long day on the road, and he was anxious to get to bed. An early start in the morning and he might yet make up some time. His near miss with Dondal he could put down to bad luck, but the closer he came to Tynhelyg, the more chance there was of running into someone else who might recognize him. He wasn’t quite sure what he’d do once he found the circus, but he wanted to get to it before it reached the capital.
He was finishing off his mug of ale when the rider entered the tavern. As the mud-splattered man approached the bar and ordered a drink, there was something about him that immediately put Errol on his guard. Perhaps it was his well-cut riding boots and functional but smart cloak. Maybe it was the way he held himself – with the air of one used to respect. Whatever it was, Errol knew the man was trouble. Making as little fuss as possible, he got up from his table and left the tavern. The rider had cast a casual glance over the room when he entered, but he paid no attention to Errol’s departure, too busy taking deep swallows from his tankard of ale.
Light spilled from the kitchen door across
‘Like forcing you to parade in front of some king like a performing animal?’
‘Oh no. Much worse, much worse. He can steal your memories from you.’
The sun was well below the horizon now, and the only light came from its reflection on the few high clouds sitting motionless in the evening sky. Benfro half-listened to the other dragon’s words, responded because there was very little else he could do. His companion was completely mad, and he wondered how long it would take for him to get the same way.
‘How can he steal your memories? Don’t you mean he just makes you forget things?’
In the deepening gloom, Benfro saw the bulk of the
other dragon shift, shuffling in a stoop across the wagon to drop beside him. He was smaller than Benfro, withered with age and the treatment he had received at the hands of Loghtan and Tegwin. Benfro wondered how many decades he had been with the circus; how long it had taken for his spirit to be completely broken.
‘See here, young Gog. See here.’ The dragon turned his head away from Benfro, angling it as if he was trying to show something behind his ears. Benfro looked more closely at the leathery skin and fine scales. There was a rippled ridge of scar tissue running across the back of the dragon’s head, perhaps a hand’s width across.
‘He takes away your memories.’
It wasn’t hard to follow the route taken by the circus, but Errol found it impossible to catch up. Every time he stopped, the wagons had passed through some days earlier or camped for a night and then gone on without doing a show, much to the disappointment of the locals. It was the considered opinion of almost everyone he spoke to that the circus was heading as fast as possible for the capital, there to perform in front of the king.
‘But they’ve left it very late.’ The barmaid in this tavern was much like any number of barmaids he had seen in similar inns along the way. ‘It’s most unlike old Loghtan to be so late. Normally he’d have been through here a month ago, doing shows in every town until he reached the capital. Must have been something very special to keep him up in the northlands all that time.’
‘I heard he’d captured a new dragon.’ Errol watched the woman for any sign that she had heard this rumour
from anyone else. It was too much of a coincidence for it to be anyone other than Loghtan’s circus that had captured Benfro, but still he was plagued by the worry that he might be chasing the wrong quarry, and into the depths of the enemy’s lair too.
‘Well, I dare say that’d keep him back. But he’s losing a lot of money not doing all these shows, and that’s not like Loghtan.’
Errol chatted for a while longer, until his meal was ready, then retired to a table by the fire to eat. It had been a long day on the road, and he was anxious to get to bed. An early start in the morning and he might yet make up some time. His near miss with Dondal he could put down to bad luck, but the closer he came to Tynhelyg, the more chance there was of running into someone else who might recognize him. He wasn’t quite sure what he’d do once he found the circus, but he wanted to get to it before it reached the capital.
He was finishing off his mug of ale when the rider entered the tavern. As the mud-splattered man approached the bar and ordered a drink, there was something about him that immediately put Errol on his guard. Perhaps it was his well-cut riding boots and functional but smart cloak. Maybe it was the way he held himself – with the air of one used to respect. Whatever it was, Errol knew the man was trouble. Making as little fuss as possible, he got up from his table and left the tavern. The rider had cast a casual glance over the room when he entered, but he paid no attention to Errol’s departure, too busy taking deep swallows from his tankard of ale.
Light spilled from the kitchen door across
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