Excerpt: Working Title: Gypsy King

It was the day after that that the man who had first come to the cottage… Sir Galvyn, she knew him for now, one of the king's liegemen… came again, with another man dressed in worn leather. This man was on foot, leading a dog.

Brenna went out to meet them, puzzled and a little wary. The king had never sent someone else to their home, since the first time, and after his first few visits had tended to come alone, leaving his men to wait in the village's poor excuse for an inn. "Good day, sir knight," she said, bowing her head for politeness before looking up at him curiously. "May I be of service?"

"I come on an errand from the King," Galvyn said, his face almost settling into its habitual sneer, and then forcing itself straight again. She wondered what he would have said if he had seen her riding behind the king, holding onto his belt as if he were any ordinary person. Galvyn, she was sure, would have been horrified – but the King had made it clear that Mabina and Brenna were under his protection, and Galvyn had never dared be openly rude since then.

"Kynthelig," he said now, waving the other man forward. "This is the girl. You have your instructions."

Kynthelig looked as unimpressed by Galvyn's airs as Brenna felt as he stepped forward. "I'm a trainer of the King's dogs, lass, under the Master of Hounds," he said, ignoring Galvyn's transparent impatience. "As it was told me, the King's taken sommat of an interest in you and the old lady as was here. It's a dangerous proposition, a pretty lass living all alone, and he had words with the Master, and told the Master to send one of His Majesty's mastiffs over as a guard dog, being as you have none."

Brenna stared at him, and then at the dog. It was huge, its back at a level with her hip, with sagging features and an ingratiatingly wagging tail. "His Majesty is… very kind," she said, wondering what on earth she would feed such a large animal.

"They're hunting dogs, mostlike, but this lad's not the finest. He's a friendly one, though, and he'll make a fine guard dog." The dog-trainer patted the massive had affectionately. "He'll feed himself over summer, like enough… he's been trained to smaller game, for he does nothing but fall over his own big feet going after deer. In winter, the Master of Hounds will make arrangements."

Galvyn gave Kynthelig a shocked look. "You do not suggest, I hope, that she should hunt in the King's forests. The deer – "

"The King said it his own self," Kynthelig said, unperturbed. "He's never caught a deer in his life, being slow, but whatever he can catch is hers, for to feed them both. It's not poaching if one of the King's own dogs does it."

Brenna had no idea what exactly 'small game' consisted of, but she'd tasted little enough meat in her life to be pleased at the prospect of more. And she'd never feed the beast, otherwise. So she ignored Galvyn's horrified expression and held out her hand to the dog, who wagged harder and licked her hand with great enthusiasm. "Has he a name?"

"He answers to Bear," Kynthelig said, ruffling the dog's floppy ears. "For the size of him – he's one of the biggest we've bred. He's trained well… you won't need most of it, but Guard and Stay and Fetch he knows well enough. Fetch for when he's allowed to hunt, for that he won't do until he's bid, and Stay for if you ever want to leave him behind, though he'll not take to that. They're great babies in their way, and he'll howl the place down if he's left alone too long."

Brenna chuckled at the notion of the gigantic dog that looked quite capable of tearing a man to shreds howling like a baby, but she stratched tentatively under his ears. Bear did his best to lick her sleeve right off her arm, and she laughed, startling herself. She had felt this morning as if she'd never laugh again. "Will he stay with me? Won't he want to go home?"

"I'll put him on guard of you, lass, for he understands that. He'll fret a mite, no doubt, but fuss over him a bit and let him stay by you and he'll settle quick enough. They're greedy for petting, all of them, and he won't pine too much for the other dogs when he's a little mistress all of his own." Kynthelig smiled at her encouragingly. "You're not frightened of him, I see… some are, for their size."

"He's such a big lump," Brenna said, smiling again when, she having stopped petting him for a moment, Bear whimpered and butted his head into her hand. "No, I'm not frightened of him. The King is far too generous."

Galvyn snorted, clearly agreeing with her. Kynthelig just chuckled. "Well, he's right enough that it's not safe for a pretty girl to live all alone off in the woods like this, and Bear here is as good as an armed man for guarding, aren't you, you great daft thing?" He pulled Bear's ears, the mastiff submitting to this rough treatment with perfect good humour. "All right now. Sit down, boy."

Bear sat with an audible thump, his tail stirring a dust-cloud from the path. "All right, lass, you come out from behind the gate…" Kynthelig said, and when she did he drew her over to stand in front of the dog. "Bear, guard," he ordered, pointing at Brenna. "Guard."

Bear cocked his head, and Brenna laughed again at the decidedly puzzled expression on the dog's big wrinkled face. It was as plain as could be that while he was perfectly willing to do what his handler wanted him to do, he could not fathom what that was.

Kynthelig snorted. "Stupid brute." He took hold of Brenna's wrist, briskly tugging her hand forward until it all but smacked Bear's nose. "Scent, Bear… now guard. Guard the girl, Bear."

Bear sniffed the offered hand, still looking puzzled… then suddenly he let out a little growling bark and bounced to his feet, throwing himself at Brenna with such enthusiasm that he knocked her sprawling.

Brenna found herself flat on her back on the grassy verge, more than a little winded, looking up at Galvyn… who was clearly trying not to laugh, but not trying especially hard. Then her vision was filled with a huge black head, which let out a happy yip and licked her face before assuming a protective stance beside her.

"I think he's got the idea," Kynthelig said, looking just as amused as Galvyn. "Now pet him and tell him he's a good boy, while he's still thinking of it."

Brenna sat up and did as she was bid, though she wasn't feeling as fondly disposed towards Bear as she had been a moment ago. Knocking her on her backside then giving her an especially foul-smelling lick wasn't the way to her heart by any stretch of the imagination.