Soar

Chapter 3

My new master was the man with the dragon.

I stumbled after him as he led me down street after street toward the far edge of town, his tall companion behind us. Neither said a word to me, but it was plain which man was the superior, and that he was to be my master and was not simply a messenger sent from a wealthy man to pick out slaves.

He wore colorful clothes, with a yellow and green checkered cape hanging off one shoulder. A green cap drooped to one side of his balding head, with a tassel on the end. One many-ringed hand rested by the pouch of money on his belt, and on the other side was a jeweled dagger.

Stealing a glance behind me, I saw that the second man was more simply dressed in brown trousers tucked into brown boots, a white, sleeveless shirt, and a brown-red cape tossed over one shoulder like my master's.

The shorter man was clearly an entertainer, and the whispers of those we passed, as well as his earlier comment, told me exactly which entertainer.

Finally we reached his camp at the edge of town. I counted six or seven wagons, all brightly-colored, as well as a few wheeled cages. The wagons were arranged in a circle, and in their midst I saw people pass, all as brightly-colored as the wagons.

"This is your home," my master announced with an expansive wave of his hand as we stepped between the wagons. "I am Master Bennu," and his hand swept to the biggest wagon. It had writing scrawled across the side. I could not read, but I guessed it bore his name.

A squawk and a string of rude words carried to us across the circle. People continued about their work of tending fires and singing and juggling, oblivious to the cursing.

"When you are not occupied with your regular duties," Master continued, "you will help here with meals."

I took in the scene, resisting the urge to check my headscarf when several people glanced my way.

"Enough jawin', dog!" a croaking voice cried out. "Drag us down to the depths, ye will."

At last I located the source of the screeching. It was a bird, perched on the crossbeam of a carved wooden pole. His body was blue and red and long yellow feathers crowned his head. His eyes were dark and keen. When I stared at him, he flapped his wings, ruffled his feathers, and opened his beak.

A string of vile words spewed out, expertly pronounced.

"He...talks," I said, unable to help myself.

"So, apparently, do you." The tall man stepped around me, arms folded once more. This posture revealed a long, thick white scar on his upper arm. He bowed shortly to the master and walked away.

"Yes, well," Master said, sticking out his barrel chest. "I would not call it 'talkin' so much as 'cursin', but people seem to enjoy it. Appears they take insults better when it's a bird handing them out." He jutted his chin toward the bird. "He's Yanif. Best leave him alone. Too long in your company and he may forget how to talk." He looked sideways at me, his eyebrow quirked, to see how I would respond.

I nodded obediently and turned to take in the rest of the scene.

Some sort of cat lounged in one of the cages. In another, several dogs yipped and wrestled. A woman sauntered past in a dress with a short, flowing skirt. Several instruments struck up a tune at once, none of them the same, which resulted in both laughter and insults across the cooking fires.

I searched the whole circle, and still did not see the thing that had kept my mind spinning since we left the Yard. "You have a dragon?" I asked softly, fixing my eyes on the master's dagger.

"That I do." Somehow, his chest puffed out even more. He motioned for me to follow him.

My heart pounded even faster. I had never imagined I would ever see a real dragon. I had heard people describe them: great scaly creatures with wings, taller than a horse, wild and fierce. A vision of fire flashed in my mind, and a part of me dared to believe it might be true.