Dog and Dragon-ARC Read Online Free PDF Page A

Meb with a yawn.
    “Er. Perhaps more wine. Some of these little cakes?” asked Prince Medraut, into the awkward silence.
    She had no doubt now, that those too would turn into stale bread. “No, thank you,” she said curtly. “Why are you doing all this?”
    The two looked at each other. “Because it was foretold that the return of the sea-window would come with the guardian against the sons of the Dragon,” said Prince Medraut.
    Meb decided not to tell them that Tasmarin was a place ruled by dragons, or just how she felt about a specific dragon. “What do you mean ‘the return of the sea-window’?”
    The magician shrugged. “There has not been a window in the antechamber since Queen Gwenhwyfach leapt from it with her baby son. She was the greatest of the summonsers, a powerful mage and much loved. The king was heartbroken, and had the window walled up. The masons closed it off, and then, when that was not enough for the king, they knocked out part of the wall, tore out the lintel and the sill, and built it again so there was no trace of the window.”
    “Oh.” It seemed a very inadequate response. But Meb couldn’t think of anything else to say, so she sipped her wine, and thought about it instead. She didn’t want to tell them that their prophecy was wildly inaccurate and the window, she now realized, had been something she needed to escape through, and that the magic of the dvergar artifact on her neck obviously still amplified her own magical skills, even here, far from Tasmarin. She didn’t want it! A hand went to her throat. And then Finn’s words about the dragon necklace with its wood-opal eyes came back to her. It wouldn’t stay lost, not even if she buried it or threw it into the sea. And would it be better used by the likes of either of these two men? She already trusted neither.
    Someone knocked on the door. It was a warrior, in a dripping cloak. “Prince Medraut. The enemy have been sighted from Dun Argol. They look a great host, burning and plundering as they come.”
    The prince tugged his hair. Sighed. “M’lady. We will talk further, later. I must consult with my war leaders and wizards. The women will come to escort you to your chamber. You have not come at a time of peace, I am afraid.”
    It looked more like she’d come at a time of murder, war and conspiracy. She sipped the wine. Looked at the “feast” she had largely ignored. Out of the corner of her eye she realized the far items looked like hunks of bread. So she turned her head. Yes…on the periphery of vision it was all various shaped lumps of coarse bread. She had to wonder why, and about the wine.
    Was this what they had? Was it just for her? She hoped it was the latter, if they were facing war and probably siege. So…this was where she’d come from as a baby, was it?
    It made Cliff Cove seem quite attractive.
    A stiff-looking matron came in, her washed-out blonde hair done up in tight coiled braids and disapproval written on every line of her plump face. She had plenty to write the disapproval onto, but the application of powder and paint plastered over some of it. She looked Meb up and down as if examining a side of stockfish from a not-very-reputable dealer. “You are the Lady Anghared?” she said in a chilly voice. “Lady” was definitely questionable. “I am the Lady Cardun, the Chatelaine of Dun Tagoll. I was told that you would require a bedchamber and water and suitable attire.”
    Given the matron’s attitude, it was clear she felt Meb should be sleeping in the attic on a straw pallet with three others and a lot more fleas, and given a kitchen trull’s castoffs. Meb had already begun to think she might be better off leaving, even via the window that had once been blocked off, no matter the sharp rocks below. Maybe her face showed it, because one of the two women in the chatelaine’s wake, the one with the spare, lined face smiled sympathetically at her, and said in a quiet, much kinder voice. “Oh, Lady