Free Dog and Dragon-ARC by Dave Freer Page B

stared. “Is having a sheepdog on your back part of the curse?” he asked, still not entirely putting up his lance.
    “Considering the dog barks in my ear, you might think so,” said Fionn. “But no. He was my lady’s loyal companion, and he guides me in my search.”
    The knight shook his head. “I have seen various monsters and fearsome creatures. But never a dragon. There has not been one seen in all Brocéliande for many a year. I thought great honor had surely come to me this day. But I had not heard that the fell beasts could speak, or well, that they would put up with a dog. Methinks it is an illusion.”
    At which Díleas leapt down and trotted over to the knight. The horse paced warily, sniffing at it. “Your horse does not think it is an illusion. And to be honest with you, I could flambé you, right now, before that lance got near me, should I wish to. Actually, all the dog and I wish is to go on our quest, and to find some breakfast.”
    Díleas had by now walked around to the stirrup and stood up against it, reaching his nose up. The knight reached down and his chain-link-covered gauntlet got a lick.
    “If he’s an illusion, he’s a remarkably friendly and touchable one,” said the knight, somewhat more mildly. “What is your name, Sir Dragon? And where are you from and whence bound?”
    Anything rather than another fight on an empty stomach, thought Fionn. And besides the wolves and monsters, Brocéliande was known for the ideals of chivalry. Fionn had found these often crumbled when closely examined, but there were exceptions. “Might I know yours, Sir Knight? I hail from a far land, and I am bound I know not whither, because I cannot speak the language of dogs. The dog knows, but I do not. I merely follow, but will follow until I find and rescue my lady. My name is Fionn of Tasmarin, and my style, Earl of Laufey.” Which was true, in a manner of speaking. It was one of the advantages of having assumed many personas and having been a fraud for so many years. It was unlikely that the knight would know Laufey, which was in the Nordic cycles somewhere.
    The knight raised his lance in salute. “Well met, Earl Fionn. I am Sir Bertran, son of Ywain, guardian of the fountain of Escalados. I had hoped this day to fight a great battle against some foul creature, to gain honor. But instead I have met something so passing strange that I can at least have a tale to tell my grandchildren one day. It would be ignoble for me to fight someone on such a great quest. Is there some way I can aid you?”
    “Breakfast, and to allow us free passage, would be good.” Fionn never forgot geography. Escalados fountain was a place he’d had occasion to visit. It was a pinch point for water and electromagnetic energies he’d had to adjust before. It was close enough to here.
    Díleas barked in agreement, and danced on his hind legs. Fionn had realized that the dog was quite good at the manipulation of humans…and dragons.

CHAPTER 6
    “I think, m’lady,” said Neve firmly, once they were out of earshot of the tower, “that I am going to faint.”
    “Must be the lack of food,” said Meb, grinning. “I’m hungry enough to fall over myself.”
    “Oh, I am sorry, m’lady. I’ll run to the kitchens…”
    “You’ll do no such thing, Neve,” said Meb, grabbing her. “Without you I’m lost. I’d probably end up down the well or wandering in on Aberinn and Medraut in counsel and get executed on the spot. Show me the way instead.”
    “But…but you shouldn’t go there, m’lady. The nobility don’t. Only Mage Aberinn goes down to the kitchens and cellars to magically replenish supplies.”
    “He does?”
    “Yes,” said Neve, cheerily. “Otherwise we’d be eating our shoes, m’lady. The wars have been that fierce. And the Vanar raiders have burned most of the fishing boats. That was why I came to the castle seeking a place. At least the food is wonderful. There are times that it looks better than it