James Oswald


She was short, dark and very, very Welsh. Errol could not speak to her, for he was a ram and she a ewe-lamb. Yet she intrigued him in a way that had nothing to do with the rough barn-talk of the elders.



The second installment in the Benfro/Errol Ramsbottom cycle of ideas, this story predates Dragons, but I hate the word Prequel, so I won't use it. These stories spawned the idea that was to eventually grow into a four part epic fantasy - The Ballad of Sir Benfro. More of that can be found in the news section of this website and maybe one day I'll even find a publisher for it. My good friend Stuart insists that Sheep don't make good sinister baddies. They're too comical, apparently. There speaks a man who has never dealt with sheep on anything deeper than a knife, fork and mint sauce level. There is evil in the mind of the Lleyn, cruelty in the horns of the Welsh Mountain and the less said about the Beualah Speckle Face the better. But he has a point. And the sheep have their place in the short stories. For the novels they are become human, with their ovine names intact.



A downloadable file of this story will be made available soon. Please check back, or contact me for publication details.