It was the second day when I had to sacrifice my waistcoat. The damnable Gypsies had taken me into some horrid maze of sharp rocks and I wrapped my torn article around both my arms. Apart from my hundreds of cuts and grazes, I was irritable from lack of sleep, worried that these ruffians could stab and rob me as I slept.
Add to that the odd sensation that I was being watched. To my surprise, I caught Sam looking upwards and around too and I knew then that he also sensed it. A coward reads the winds and the faces of others. I found myself looking up sharply at some half imagined movements behind me. Perhaps those natives had followed us, hoping to gather a few more slaves or trophies for the pot.
We had stopped. The two midgets were gabbering on. Rather Sam was and Freddy was continuing to be listless. I wondered if he was malarial. I tried not to travel to close to him, just in case. I pulled out my dry (finally!) tobacco and began to fill my pipe. Sam, the fat one, saw me and grabbed Freddy's arm and yammered something. I caught only one word.
"Ah, yes. Gandalf!" I said tapping my pipe, glad to have picked up a word of Hungarian or whatever it was. Freddie actually smiled. He must have liked the smell of pipesmoke or something. It was then that I caught the glimpse of gold around his neck. It was only for a moment, but whatever it was, I wanted to see it again. I shook myself, stood up and hushered the others along. I wanted to be out of this nightmarish landscape as soon as possible.
That night, I slept with my back against the wall of the cliff. I would just have to trust that the pair of them would not rob me during the night. I was in the middle of a peculiar dream consisting of a large red eye with a gold ring around it, when I woke to the sound of screaming. I was up in a flash and had run a few yards before risking a look backwards. I could see one of the Gypsies struggling with somebody. I hid in a crevice and waited for the sound of scuffling to stop. I had heard no gunfire, so I risked, after a good few minutes, returning to our campsite.
When I got back, making signals that I hoped they understood meant I had been looking for other attackers, I found a new addition to our group. A malformed midget was mewling, tied up in rope. It was looking pitifully at me with great big eyes and little sharp teeth. It was obvious that this fellow was also from the same Circus troop that had been attacked by the natives. It was also obvious that they did not get on. I thought this strange as carny folk were meant to be tight knit, but apparently not. I saw Sam kicking the freak when Freddy wasn't looking. Ho Ho, thought I. Not as close as they make out. Good to know.
The next day we continued through the tiresome landscape, with the malformed one being led by a rope around his neck. When it wasn't mewling in discomfort, it appeared to be clearing its throat. Apparently, the complaints irritated my two Gypsies equally as eventually they released him from his leash. I wouldn't have, but I couldn't make myself understood. I know a sneak when I see one, being of that breed myself. I also found the creature repulsive. In the daylight, he definitely had a greenish tinge and the smell of fish and rot hung around him.
I made sure that I walked a few yards behind them just in case the little monster had an ambush prepared. It lead us deeper, (it seemed) into the maze of rocks and cliffs, exhorting us to follow. Eventually, we came to the edge of a huge swamp and we decided to make camp before continuing on. We shared some of the bread the Gypsies had, which was surprisingly filling, and a little morish. Freddy leaned over and in that moment I saw what was around his neck.
It was a ring. Deceptively plain, I swear now that it called to me. Madness, I know, but I wanted that ring and I don't know how I managed to resist snatching it there and then. Suddenly sweating, I took my bread and crawled towards the wall. I could see the little monster also staring at Freddy and I knew he desired it also. I would have to be rid of him as well. I wished I had a knife and even picked up a rock, before realising that I would not be able to cross the swamp without him. I dropped the rock and decided to make a more subtle plan.
I did not have to wait long. Before dawn, the circus freak disappeared into the swamp to find a path, or possibly to fish. The fat Gypsy was sleeping, as was Freddy. We had all got used to Freddy moaning in his sleep, but it was still eerie to listen to. I knew I wouldn't have much time, so I crawled over to Freddy. I was immediately flummoxed. How to get the ring from around his neck? I had nothing to break the chain and trying to move him to remove it would surely wake him.
Just at that moment Freddy stiffened in his sleep and must have caught the ring on a sharp rock causing the chain to snap. Thanking the heavens for such a piece of marvellous luck, I gently picked the ring up and fled into the dark. My sense of direction has always been pretty good and I was fortunate that the moon was out and there was enough light to see the main path.
I followed the way back as fast as I could, not letting go of my precious prize, not daring to open my hand and risk dropping it. After what seemed like hours, I stumbled over the remains of one of our campfires. Good show Flashie! I thought, and continued to run. Of course, even an experienced coward cannot run forever and I found a nook to rest in far enough off the trail to be missed, I hoped. As I fell asleep, I thought I heard two voices screaming in the East.
I woke up cold, but the ring gave me a warm feeling. I got up and slowly moved back the way I came. Seeing no sound, nor smelling the circus freak, I continued to run the way we came. I wanted to run eastwards towards the rising sun, but another part of me made me stagger ever west, ever west.
Tired, but glad to be still alive, I found the waterfall and climbed up the cliff. Looking behind me, I could see no pursuit, but I was sure they would be chasing me, trying to steal the ring back. Maybe they are in front of me? I ducked behind a rock to look at my treasure. I slipped it on and entered a nightmare.
The world dissolved into cold flame. A giant eye in the East latched onto me and I could hear it talking to me, demanding I turn east. I took the ring off and clutched it to my chest. So many things wanted my ring. It was my ring! I stuffed it into my waistcoat pocket and made sure it was secure before climbing the rest of the way.
At the top of the hill, I was surprised by the last thing I expected to see. A man, smoking a pipe, in full English tweeds was making notes in a little red book.
"Hullo!" I said, more out of surprise than from a need to greet him. He looked up and said in an accent with a trace of the Black Country;
"What the bloody hell are you doing here?"
I was taken aback and almost fell down the cliff face. I mumbled something about an Opium den and being pressganged. He frowned and closed his book.
"You shouldn't be here."
"Where's here?"
"You don't know?" He held up his hand. "Stupid question, of course you don't." He tapped his pipe on the side of a broken statue. He sighed.
"Since I have got a clue how you got here, I can't really tell you how to get home."
What was the blithering idiot talking about? I repeated my question again. He shrugged and said that I wouldn't believe him. I got up and moved towards him.
"Look hereā¦"
"Hush now," he said in a kindly voice. "If I told you, you'd think I was mad. If you believed me and told others, they'd think you were mad. Best not to say then, heh?"
He looked up to the sky and packed his book into a little rucksack and peered to the east.
"I have to be going. They can see me, you know."
The man was clearly dotty, but at least he could speak English. It was then I noticed that I could see through him as if he was fading away. I rubbed my eyes, but he was even more faint than before.
"Don't leave me here, for God's sake!" I couldn't keep the panic out of my voice.
"Head for the north by north west from here. You won't understand the languages, but the people are friendly and are used to strange looking folk. Stop off in Gondor on the way. Nice food, not too spicy. Oh, I wouldn't stay there too long though. Be seeing you!"
With that he was gone. Looking wildly about. This must be part of an Opium dream. Of course, how could I not realise this before. That little Chinese hussy must have drugged me. I was probably being robbed as I stood here. Well, there was nothing to do but wait for it to finish.
Still, the sense of danger I felt was real enough and, remembering the scratches and cuts I had received in the rocky maze, I knew I could feel real pain, dream or not. Cricking my neck, I marched into the nearby forest.
