Dog and Dragon-ARC Read Online Free Page B

guards’ imaginings. Part of her hoped, though, that what the man-at-arms said was true.
    She went to the tower. Knocked on the heavy door.
    It opened by itself. He liked those sorts of small displays of power. He was sitting at his workbench…but he had been waiting, she was sure. “So Prince Medraut is dead. And they sent you to tell me. There are no secrets in Dun Tagoll,” he said, smiling his humorless smile.
    “No. Prince Medraut is alive. The Defender has come! The first part of the prophecy…”
    “What?” He stood up, disturbing the model he had been at work on. “The royal chamber…”
    “The sea-window is back. And a young woman calling herself Anghared has saved Prince Medraut.”
    “Anghared! Who would dare use a name like that? Don’t tell me—our all too clever manipulative regent. The commons will assume that the royal names are worn by the royal house,” he walked to the door, shooing her out in front of him, like a hen. “What has happened to her?”
    “They’ve taken her to the old queen’s withdrawing room. They fetch her food and drink. She said she was hungry.”
    “I’d better see this convenient miracle,” said the mage. “A neat ploy by Medraut. I wonder if she has any real skills? You are to watch and befriend her.”
    “But the queen’s window…” protested Vivien.
    “A trick that could easily enough be done…once. She could even merely spring the spell, without any skill herself.”
    ***
    There was a sound from the doorway and the servitor straightened up, bowed, as Prince Medraut entered with another man in once-white robes and a beard that he should have washed after eating egg, and of course the obligatory couple of guards. Meb sipped the wine. If this was good wine…she’d had worse in her travels with Finn. But not much worse.
    More servants came in, carrying platters. It did look something of a feast.
    Medraut bowed his head politely. “Ah, Lady Anghared. May I introduce myself more formally. I am Prince Medraut ap Corrin, Earl of Telas, and Prince Regent of Greater Lyonesse. And this is our court magician, Aberinn. I trust you are enjoying your wine?”
    Meb had always been a poor hand at lying. So she stuck to a nod and a smile.
    “Allow me to cut you a piece of this bird,” he said, slicing into what appeared to be a plump roasted pheasant and placing it on the trencher that another servant had set before her. Meb knew it was a high honor to be served with choice portions cut by the lord of the hall, with his own dagger. And besides she wasn’t sure she still had one to eat with. Mostly a rough hand-carved wooden spoon would have done for the pottage of most inns and a fingers and knife for the meat they might have grilled on the way. Here…there were platters and silver salts.
    They were watching her rather carefully. She picked up the slice of breast and ate…
    It wasn’t pheasant. It wasn’t even bird. It was bread. And stale, at that. Fortunately, she eaten a fair amount of that in her time. The pickings as a gleeman’s apprentice had often been slim, but they were still better than they’d been growing up in Cliff Cove. There was always enough fish, of course. But bread was quite a luxury at times, and a girl-child often got the stale crusts. She washed it down with some wine.
    The magician and prince relaxed visibly.
    “If we might ask, lady, where did you come from?” said the magician.
    There seemed no harm in telling him. “A place called Tasmarin.”
    They looked blank at the name.
    “Ah. A far off realm, no doubt?” said the prince.
    Meb was tired. The stale bread was better than nothing, as was the sour wine. But her stomach, and temper, were set up for more. “How would I know? I don’t even really know where I am now.”
    “You are in the Kingdom of Lyonesse, in the great fortress of Dun Tagoll, the crowning-place of the Kings of the West,” intoned the magician as if reciting a poem.
    “Never heard of it, I am afraid,” said