Free The Dog of the North by Tim Stretton

rapiers whirled, and closer and closer to the leaping Illara. Then the music began to slow; Illara too slowed to match the rhythm.
Eventually the fanfarillo ceased altogether. Illara came to a halt, bowed low to the ground, and threw her arms wide to the audience.
    The crowd burst into applause, whistles and bellows of approval. Arren noticed that Sir Langlan raised his mug high towards Illara before tossing back its contents. Illara bowed again –
seemingly directly to Sir Langlan – before skipping from the room, followed by the Dancing Bravos.
    ‘Well, my lads – and Lady Siedra – what did you make of that?’ asked Sir Langlan with a beam.
    ‘Most decorative,’ exclaimed Guigot with a leer. ‘When I am older I shall take a lady like Illara as my mistress.’
    Sir Langlan raised his eyebrows. ‘You are young for such thoughts,’ he said eventually. ‘In truth Illara would be a poor consort for one of your pedigree.’
    ‘You appeared to take great pleasure in her performance,’ said Guigot.
    ‘I would not recommend you to follow my conduct or morals. Oricien, Arren, I would hope your observations are more elevated.’
    Oricien rubbed his chin in a gesture reminiscent of his father. ‘I enjoyed the music of the fanfarillo,’ he said. ‘The dance was also exciting. I will recommend to my father
that she be invited to play in his hall.’
    Sir Langlan paused in refilling his mug. ‘I am not sure the entertainment is entirely to Lord Thaume’s approval. He is a broad-minded man, but Lady Jilka is less flexible. But come
now, we have seen enough for the evening, and I must return you to Mistress Eulalia or risk her tongue.’
    ‘No! Let us stay a little longer,’ said Siedra. ‘I am not sure of Illara’s breeding but the dancing was surely worth our attention – and look, she is returning for
an encore.’
    ‘We have seen enough for tonight. We have all enjoyed the performance and there will be much to discuss at tomorrow’s lesson for the young gentlemen.’
    Guigot chuckled.
    Siedra narrowed her eyes. ‘I doubt that my father has given his consent to our excursion.’ Her eyes reflected the light from the wall sconces. ‘Were he to learn that you had
taken us to a low tavern, drunk copious beer and even forced it upon us, it would surely go ill with you, Sir Langlan. I think we will stay to watch Illara’s encore.’
    Sir Langlan’s mouth gaped like a fish. He waved a hand in dismissal. ‘As you will, Lady Siedra. Do not blame me if the encore is not to your liking.’
    Siedra sat back, her arms folded in satisfaction, and tossed her hair. Illara once again gyrated to an air from the fanfarillo, this time in slower measure. To Arren’s amazement she
divested herself of her sash, then pulled at her belt, causing her pantaloons to fall away; before pulling her shirt back and thrusting her chest out.
    Illara was in her underclothes, although they did not closely resemble the ones Arren had seen on his sisters. Releasing her hair from its fillet, and holding out her arms, she advanced towards
Sir Langlan, soon to sit in his lap, before removing her final garments with a dextrous gesture.
    Arren was at once thrilled and horrified. He turned his head away while continuing to peer out of the corner of his eye. Guigot scurried under the table as Illara reached forward to stroke his
cheek. Oricien sat rapt, staring at Illara’s breasts, less than a foot in front of him.
    Laughing, Illara sprang to her feet and drifted to another table. Siedra shrieked ‘Harlot!’ and ran for the door. ‘My father will hear of this!’
    Sir Langlan sat back in his seat with a heavy movement, mechanically draining his mug.
    ‘Come, lads,’ he said, rising swiftly if unsteadily to his feet. ‘We had best ensure that Lady Siedra has not come to mishap. We will discuss the value of tonight’s
lesson tomorrow. Lord Guigot, you may emerge and join us.’
    5
    The first lesson the next day was ‘Preparation