"He's... he's just..." Stellan racked his brain for an excuse. (This moment is critical,) he thought while soothingly patting Lannord's back. (A fatal error here, and I'll have no choice but to kill him.)

  Lannord's growling intensified, growing more rapid by the second. (Stay steady!) "He's dreaming, Lothar."

  The Shadowgreen Knight frowned skeptically. "Dreaming? I think not. What manner of dream transforms a man into... this?"

  A thin strand of saliva dripped from Lannord's chin, pooling on the ground beneath him.

  "It's a beautiful dream. A particularly sweet dream," Stellan tried to force a note of sincerity into his voice.

  "I seriously doubt that," Lothar's frown deepened. "What 'sweet dream' could possibly turn someone into... a dog?"

  "You're as sharp as ever, Lothar," Stellan replied smoothly. "He's dreaming he's a dog, plain and simple."

  "What?!" Lothar's eyes widened in disbelief. "You're telling me... in his dream, he's a dog?"

  "Exactly that!" Though Stellan's mind whirled in chaos, it was time to commit to the tale. "It stems from a childhood story of his."

  The Shadowgreen Knight nodded attentively, like a village child enraptured by an elder's fireside tale. (Forgive me, Lannord. I haven't the faintest idea what absurdity I'm about to concoct.)

  "It was a dark and stormy morning... no, wait, evening." (You worthless idiot.) He silently berated himself. "The young protagonist... I mean, young Lannord..."

  "Enough," Lothar interrupted with impatience. "Get to the relevant part."

  (What a disastrous beginning.) Adjusting his posture, Stellan scrambled for a new thread. "Our young Lannord was pursuing the girl he adored up a mountainside, but nightfall descended swiftly, and he lost his way."

  "Hold on," Lothar interjected. "What became of the girl? Don't tell me she perished?"

  "Could you possibly allow me to finish?" Stellan snapped, irritation evident. "Where I come from, inconsiderate listeners like yourself would be beaten senseless."

  Lothar raised his hands in surrender. "Very well. I shall maintain silence and behave like a proper gentleman."

  "They were engaged in a game of hide-and-seek. The girl ascended the mountain path, laughing and teasing as she went. Little Lannord pursued with equal mirth, following her swift footsteps..."

  "How utterly clichéd," Lothar muttered.

  Stellan's hand closed around his lightning-shaped dagger. "Fine, fine! Continue," the knight hastily backpedaled, gesturing for him to proceed.

  "That evening, the moon hung enormous and perfectly round, just as tonight. Its silvery light bathed the girl in an ethereal glow, transforming her into a goddess whose radiance brought love and joy to the otherwise desolate forest..."

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  "Spare me the flowery descriptions. Alright! Calm yourself—lower the blade. I merely offered a suggestion."

  "A narrow path wound up the mountainside, coiling like a venomous serpent intent on claiming its prey. The girl ran barefoot, her steps crushing fallen leaves and disturbing the earthen path, carried by the night breeze and moonlight until she vanished beyond the path's bend."

  Lothar remained silent, his expression skeptical.

  (Not entirely awful thus far,) Stellan encouraged himself internally.

  "Little Lannord pursued, dead branches and withered leaves beneath his feet releasing mournful whispers at his passing. Yet when he rounded the bend, awaiting him was not his goddess-like beloved, but a terrifying dog." Stellan nodded with self-satisfaction. "Yes, an immense beast with flame-like eyes and limbs as powerful as a warhorse. Each breath from its nostrils seemed capable of igniting the very air."

  "And this dog was...?"

  "The monstrous hound fixed its gaze upon little Lannord without wavering. Though terrified, the boy knew his beloved waited just beyond. With no alternatives, he attempted to edge forward carefully. To his astonishment, the beast spoke: 'Halt, child! Your beloved is now my captive! If you wish to see her again, you must defeat me in combat! Otherwise, return whence you came!'"

  "Wait, just wait," Lothar interrupted as Stellan descended into barely suppressed laughter. "This dog could speak? What breed of dog possesses such abilities?"

  "Ah, well..." (What breed indeed...) Stellan's brow furrowed as he desperately sought a believable answer. (Without specifics, my tale lacks credibility. Yet I can't think of anything appropriate...) Seeing Stellan deep in contemplation, Lothar leaned forward with increasing suspicion. (Retreat is impossible now.) Stellan steeled himself. Having disliked canines since childhood, his knowledge of dog breeds was virtually nonexistent. (I'll resort to whatever breed noblemen typically favor.)

  "You're completely clueless, aren't you?" Lothar asked accusingly.

  "Silence, Lothar." (No more stalling. Whatever comes to mind.) He recalled a breed mentioned in noble circles. "It was a ferocious beast, truly terrifying." As Lothar opened his mouth to interject again, Stellan hurriedly continued. "The creature was... a Chihuahua."

  A profound silence fell between them.

  "So..." Lothar rested his chin on his palm thoughtfully. "This monstrous beast was a Chihuahua? That name sounds positively... adorable?" Clearly, the breed meant nothing to him.

  "Adorable? You think so?" Stellan hadn't anticipated this reaction. "Well, you know how deceptive names can be. Consider Maria, the spinster daughter of Marquis Bossini—her name suggests grace and beauty, yet she..."

  "Enough about Maria," Lothar cut in firmly. "Let's continue with your tale. What befell young Lannord next?"

  (What happened next? Gods, where am I going with this?) Stellan's features contorted with concentration. Soon, however, a confident smile returned. (Perfect. This will be magnificent.) "Yes, I recall now."

  "Though frightened beyond measure, the hope of reuniting with his beloved filled little Lannord with extraordinary courage. 'I fear you not!' he declared boldly, seizing a fallen branch and assuming a swordsman's stance. 'I shall vanquish you, foul beast! I shall rescue my betrothed!'"

  "What a valiant young hero," Lothar remarked with genuine approval.

  "Indeed," Stellan nodded emphatically. "He braced himself for the beast's attack. Astonishingly, the creature made no aggressive move. Instead, it erupted in laughter. 'Ha ha ha...'"

  "Kindly omit the laughter," Lothar requested dryly.

  Stellan's expression flattened. "...After its amusement subsided, the beast proclaimed: 'Your courage is truly admirable, Lannord. You are unquestionably a man worthy of lifelong devotion.'"

  "And why would—" Lothar began.

  "'How do you know my name?!' Little Lannord demanded, stepping forward with growing boldness."

  "The creature is—" Lothar tried again.

  "'Reveal your identity!' Lannord shouted, hurling his branch at the beast. 'Aah!' the creature cried out in pain. 'How could you strike me so, Lannord? Is this how you treat a lady? How you treat your own betrothed?!'"