‘Cos he’s only got teeth for biting, not chewing,’ answered Mosca, not quite meeting Clent’s eye. ‘He swallows little rocks and they sit in his crop and roll around each other, grindin’ his food up like little grindstones.’ She gave Clent a brief needle-sharp glance, but his interest seemed to be idle. She decided to change the subject completely.
‘Mr Clent? I… I just had a word with Mr Goshawk.’
Clent looked up sharply. ‘Well, you appear to be still breathing, though your countenance is not reassuring. What did Mr Goshawk have to say?’
‘He… He didn’t quite offer me a job, and I didn’t quite say no.’
‘I see. Well, I suppose there is only so long one can make a hobby of deciding the fates of cities before it attracts attention. Did he quite manage to say whether the morn will find our battered bodies in the river’s embrace?’
‘I told him you still had a lot to teach me, an’ he said he’d send somebody to ask me again on my next nameday.’ Mosca gave a grimace. ‘Borrowed time, that’s all.’
‘I generally find,’ Clent murmured after a pause, ‘that it is best to treat borrowed time the same way as borrowed money. Spend it with panache, and try to be somewhere else when it runs out.’
‘And when we get found, Mr Clent, when the creditors and bailiffs come after us and it’s payment time…’
‘… then we borrow more, madam, at higher interest. We embark on a wilder gamble, make a bigger promise, tell a braver story, devise a more intricate lie, sell the hides of imaginary dragons to desperate men, climb to ever higher and more precarious ground… and later, of course, our fall and catastrophe will be all the worse, but that
Saracen showed no distress at being scooped up with every sign of haste. His world was one of disaster and near-disaster, and he was used to sudden exits, often accompanied by screams, pursuit and the smell of smoke. Another day, another exodus. He met the future with tiny, black and fearless eyes, his bully brow full of goosely daring and a crown jewel of the realm in his crop.
Acknowledgments
I would like to thank Martin for accompanying me on impulsive expeditions to Ludlow and the other walled towns and castles that inspired Toll; Ruth Alltimes and Nancy Miles for unending patience and positivity; Rhiannon, Ralph and Deirdre for an invaluable stream of feedback; Felix for providing a much-needed extra perspective; ‘A history of the auction by Brian Learmount; Mike Parker for expert advice on musical history and high-speed harp management; Muncaster Castle and other stately homes for legends of the ‘Luck’; Rachel for a vet’s perspective on the workings of a goose’s crop; and Tracy for telling me of Tongs who used Chinese carnival dragons to collect protection money hidden in cabbages, thus giving me the idea of the Clatterhorse.
Frances Hardinge
