(continued... Conall the wolf-hound is telling his story to Bob the Cat and Kappa the soldier-dog.)

I stood on the castle walls, watching two women leave the castle grounds, wrapped in shawls against the cold. One of them carried a gathering basket; they did not take the gate towards the village but instead angled towards the forest. This was nothing unusual until I recognized the taller one was Trencoss’s chosen bride. With her high status, Ailbe could have sent a servant or younger Lady to gather anything she needed. In my experience, the people in charge do not bestir themselves for menial tasks, especially when the morning mist is not yet burned away. It must be something unusual—they could be gathering poison, or running away while the men were yet asleep.

Trotting beside Ailbe was another young princess, one of the junior Ladies. Even in my bitter and dissolute state, I had recognized the night before that she was far too young to be married, but Fionn had included her in the bargaining. When the little princess’s father contracted her as a lady-in-waiting to Fionn’s wife, he would have surely expected her to be in training for the next several years. The situation made me uncomfortable, and I was pleased to see that Ailbe had taken the child under her wing. I had no idea what they were searching for in the wood, but I made the choice to turn my face away. I would not be the one to warn Fionn and Trencoss against them.

I continued on my rounds. Nothing went amiss.

As soon as the lords and warriors awoke, they conceived the idea of going out to hunt boar. I had expected as much; men like to have something gallant to do, and this many visitors must be straining the castle’s stores of food. Each of the lords had brought their own wolfhounds, and Fionn’s castle had an excellent dog-yard as well. I gathered Trencoss’s other three dogs, and we presented ourselves to their head dog. While the men made their plans, we dogs made our agreements as well.

The hunt did not go well. 

We took down some deer and small game easily, but the men wanted to show off their prowess and go after wild boar. The boar was not in a good position—well, for us. It was in a very good position for itself, and put up quite the fight, and the men sent us willy-nilly while diving in with their own weapons. The boar didn’t stand a chance against a group so large, but we sustained far too many injuries, when we need not have had any. Multiple dogs were limping and bleeding. This ridiculous dog form! I glared at Trencoss, chafing against the collar that would hold me back from touching him. I could have run this whole thing much better, if I could talk. 

If I could talk, I would be assigning latrine duty to some of these idiots. 

All the way home, the men made continuous mistakes which fueled my anger more. I trailed behind Trencoss, panting and fuming against his bonds. I could see exactly how the hunt should have gone—who should have been assigned which position, where to place our guards—and hear the speech in my head, as it should have been given. But the humans cannot hear and Trencoss ignored me. We can communicate with other dogs, but their understanding is simplistic. I had a great deal to say, I tell you!

But we can understand their speech just fine, as you well know, and my fury grew as the men praised each other. So bold, they said. So brave. 

So stupid—that is what they were! Their stupidity cost us blood and pain. Only Fionn himself was frustrated with the day’s work, his jaw tense as he strode along without joining the conversation. His plans had been good, I recalled, but he had allowed the other kings to take their turns. I could not decide if I respected his leadership more or less because of it, and I seethed through a lecture that I could not deliver. If you want to be a leader, Fionn mac Cumhaill, then you must lead. 

Then, halfway back to Fionn’s castle, I spied something through the black cloud of my anger. One of my own dogs was falling behind the group, her head hanging low. I was as bad as Fionn, I reprimanded myself, and immediately dropped back to walk with her.

In those times, Kappa, when Trencoss made the transformation he would allow the magic to go as it would. Or perhaps he could specify which animal he wanted, I really do not know, but he had a variety of animals and they came out a variety of shapes and sizes, as real animals would do. I do not know why you are all black wolfhounds, all the same height and expression. It is part of what has distressed me since he captured me this time. But I digress from my story.

This was a fawn bitch we called Odarnat, for her color. She leaned against me, only for a moment, hot and her heart hammering madly.

“Do not walk with me, Conall,” she whispered, hoarse. “I am trying not to draw his attention.”

I moved a pace or two apart, craning my neck to check the woods around us. “I am not the lead dog in this expedition. I will merely take this place as rear guard.”

“Very…well…” Odarnat’s voice, even in my mind, was growing weak.

I padded to look into a thicket, befitting my place as rear guard, then as I moved back I casually nudged Odarnat forward. She nearly collapsed, and I braced her from falling.

“You need water.”

“Do not stop,” she begged me. “Some of the others would insist on staying with me, and he would be angry. I cannot have him angry with me.”

“Just a little farther,” I assured her. “Over this rise, and it will be all downhill to the castle. Remember how comfortable is their dog-yard. They will care for you.”

I jollied Odarnat all the way home, the scent of her fear mixing with the metallic tang of her

blood. We were not the only dogs to fall farther behind, and a couple of the low-ranking men were dragging injured limbs as well. Odarnat sagged against me and a whimper crept into her panting.

Now then, my friends. Remember I had been a dog for five years at this point. My intelligence had suffered, buried under a tumult of boredom and resentment, but do you know what thrived? My need to care for those who belong to me. The love that a human might have for his friends, as strong as it is, pales in comparison to the love that a dog has for his pack—and most of all, that the lead dog has for the younger dogs in his care. 

Odarnat was one of my own. That is enough to explain how I would protect her.

She had been injured by the folly of men, and I despised those men with flames that licked higher and higher with her every limping step. I had seen Trencoss’s casual cruelty before, of course. He never hurts us directly, but I knew he did not exert himself to prevent us from being hurt. 

I cannot tell you what was different about that day, except that we were at Fionn’s castle. Maybe his food was clean and clear. Maybe the way his own dog pack was tended by their handlers had reminded me that a degree of love was missing for my own pack.

Maybe I had watched a woman that morning, caring for someone who could do her no benefit. Maybe I had been reminded what kindness can be, and how bitterly we were lacking for it. 

At any rate, I walked with Odarnat, and I grew more and more angry.

I would have invited her to run away with me, escape into the woods and hope we got beyond the reach of Trencoss’s magic before he thought of yanking our collars. But without the care of a dog-master, Odarnat was going to die. I must bring her back to the castle, both our prison and our succor.

When we arrived, Odarnat drank and I convinced her to eat a little, and she perked up somewhat. Fionn’s dog-boys provided clean bedding for everyone, and the various lords sent their own men to tend their own dogs. Everyone is tentative, you know, in a dog-yard filled with wolfhounds who do not know each other! We were all tense, and some of them were snapping.

Trencoss did not send anyone to care for us. I checked the others, reminded them to drink and lick their paws. Lommán was shivering, and I growled a different dog out of his bed so that Lommán could rest inside. Odarnat insisted she did not want Trencoss to see her condition, and my worries grew. What had he said to make her so fearful? I asked the local dogs about their dog-healer.

“Our queen tends us,” their leader told me. 

“We are very special indeed,” a brindle dog added. “She is a mná feasa and can heal anything.”

“But your queen is gone,” I pointed out.

Several of the local dogs howled in longing, and the brindle snapped at me. 

“Then the other queen will come,” the leader said. “There are two of them.”

“That’s right!” the brindle said. “Two. The same. She will come!”

“She will come,” the leader agreed.

I could not make sense of this. None of the humans mentioned two queens, and two people cannot be the same.

But a few minutes later, Ailbe entered the dog-yard. The local dogs put back their ears and greeted her joyfully, leaning against her legs. I could smell their relief and their love, spreading like sweet fog.

I still did not understand it. I would have pestered an ordinary dog-master to tend to Odarnat, but I drew back, watching Ailbe with suspicion. She was the highest ranking woman in Fionn’s castle, and perhaps even a queen. 

Do not mistake me. I would have asked her for a favor. I would have demanded her attention.

But a queen? I do not trust a queen, nor even her head Lady.

But while I watched, anger and resentment boiling under my skin, Ailbe herself noticed Odarnat. She crossed the dog-yard quickly, showing less fear than any of the others had done. I watched my dog wince away, her eyes darting desperately; all afternoon she had feared being noticed.

But Ailbe knelt beside her. I could not hear her words, but the language of her body was soothing. Peaceful. A promise.

Odarnat softened, then watched her steadily, then nuzzled against her skirts. Ailbe ran her hands over my dog, both comforting and assessing. She took Odarnat’s face in her hands, and Odarnat met her gaze. We speak with our bodies, we dogs, and Ailbe’s intention was as clear as Odarnat’s agreement. 

I heard Trencoss’s voice approaching before either of them did, but Ailbe stiffened as tight as Odarnat and myself. Her eyes went wide and I smelled her fear, and for the first time, I believed the words she had said last night—that she did not want to marry him. I had assumed she was posturing for a better bride-price or higher status in his household. I acknowledged a twinge of worry on her behalf.

After all, if they married, Trencoss would own Ailbe as surely as he owned Odarnat, and myself, and all of the rest of my pack. As surely as he owns you, Kappa, and your whole squadron. Your bravery does not matter any longer.

It was foreign to me, then. Worrying about someone who was not myself, not my own dog pack. 

The belief touched me—that Ailbe was frightened. And if she was frightened, she did not have the power that I thought she had. 

And this belief, this feeling that crept through the fog of my anger…

…it was not new. It was what I used to feel. The logic that I used to employ, every day, when I was myself.

Outside the fence, Trencoss spoke. “Never mind,” he told one of the local dog-tenders. “That little fawn bitch isn’t worth the trouble...”

To be continued tomorrow

The Little White Cat and the Dog Who Wasn't

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