TOLLINS II: DYNAMITE TALES. Conn Iggulden

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      “There are plenty to go around,” Sparkler said. He’d had a whole class of Tillets copying out his first draft. He wasn’t certain they’d managed the spelling of the trickier words, but the reaction had been good, at least.

      “What is this?” the High Tollin said, in the tone of a man who’d expected more diagrams.

      “It is… a play,” Sparkler said. “You read the words aloud, as if it’s real life.”

      He was dreading the next question. He’d thought of lots of ways to answer it, but if the word ‘human’ was part of it, he knew it would be the last he ever heard of plays. The book had set his imagination on fire. He couldn’t let the High Tollin stamp out the flames, he just couldn’t.

      “Did you write it?” the High Tollin asked, unaware of how the words sent a shiver through Sparkler.

      “Yes,” Sparkler said in a tight whisper. It was true in a way. He had written each word. He just hadn’t made them up. He just hoped William Shakespeare never heard about it.

      “I’m not sure I quite understand,” the High Tollin said, peering at the pages warily. “You read the words aloud, do you?”

      “Yes, my lord. You learn them first and then you speak them as if it’s all new. Other Tollins listen.” Sparkler saw the High Tollin’s eyes glaze over and struggled on.

      “There are swordfights, my lord.”

      “Brilliant!” said the High Tollin immediately, as Sparkler had known he would. All the Tollins were fascinated by the new swords coming out of the iron forges. Grunion used one of the prototypes to cut his toenails.

      “If you look… here, my lord,” Sparkler went on, “you’ll see a speech by an angry prince, a man of power and authority a little like yourself. He is angry with his people for fighting in the street… with swords.”

      “Brilliant!” said one of the advisors. The High Tollin frowned at him, then looked at the section Sparkler had indicated.

      “Rebellious subjects, enemies to peace…” he read. “Oh, I like that. That’s good, I shall use that.”

      “It’s also a love story, my lord, a love story with swordfights.”

      “And the prince wins in the end, I expect? Executes his enemies and so on?”

      “Well, yes, he does, in a way,” Sparkler said reluctantly. He wasn’t sure the High Tollin had understood the idea, but he hadn’t refused it outright, either.

      “That’s good, lad. Well, thank you for bringing this to me. I shall put it with that book of herbs you made.”

      “Yes, well done,” said one of the advisors. Sparkler glared at him until the advisor blushed and pretended to read the script.

      “I would like to perform the play, my lord,” Sparkler went on. “The Tillets are available for some of the smaller parts. I thought I might play Mercutio myself – Romeo’s friend. He dies in a swordfight.”