"Look then, mortal, and see what you see."

The mists swirled away from the hummock, revealing the full splendour of the fairy castle. A host of fairies surrounded Visbhume, some sitting, others hiding in the grass. At a distance of twenty feet stood King Throbius and Queen Bossum, in full regalia. Throbius wore a crown worked from sceleone, that fragile metal forged from water-reflected gleams of moonlight. Slender cusps surrounding the crown terminated in pale blue sapphires. The robes of Throbius were blue velvet woven from the bloom of willow catkins; they trailed ten feet behind him and were carried by six round-faced skew-eyed implings, smirking sidelong with noses wrinkled. Some lagged, others tugged at the robe to bring up the laggards; sometimes they played a sly game of tug-of-war with the train, always with one eye on Throbius, the better to avoid his chastisement should their game be detected.

Queen Bossum's robes were a saffron yellow, rich as new butter, and her crown was set with topaz prisms. Her train was carried by girl-imps, whose conduct was primly correct, while they watched the antics of Throbius' implings sidelong with haughty disapproval.

Directly in front of King Throbius and Queen Bossum stood Brean the Royal Herald, who spoke again, in a voice now shrill and clear. "Mortal fellow, do you know that you trespass upon Madling Meadow? Behold their Majesties King Throbius and Queen Bossum! Explain to the royal ears and to those of the assembled notables the purpose of your investiture here on this meadow, which we include in our domain!"

Visbhume performed a bow of six flourishes. "Inform their Majesties of my pride and delight that they have deigned to notice my little concatenation, which in fact is a nexus unto Hai-Hao."

The herald spoke the message; King Throbius responded and the herald turned back to Visbhume. "The Magnificences wish to learn your name and your worldly status, that they may justly assess your conduct, and mete out the penalty for your offense, if offense it be."

‘Offense'? Surely here is no guilt whatever!" cried Visbhume in poignant contralto tones. Is this not Stangle* Meadow, where I may test my wonderful nexus?"

*Stangle: the stuff of dead fairies, with implications of horror, calamity and putrefaction; a term to excite fear and disquiet among halflings, who prefer to think of themselves as immortal, though this is not altogether the case.

"Foolish mortal! You have compounded your solecism! Such words are not to be uttered in the presence of the Sempitemals; it is considered in poor taste. Secondly, this is not Stangle Meadow, but rather the halcyon Madling Meadow, and before you is Thripsey Shee."

"Ah! It seems that I have blundered, and for this my apologies. I know of Thripsey Shee and its remarkable folk; did they not even provide the royal house of Lyonesse with the Princess Madouc?"

Brean the herald looked uncertainly toward King Throbius who signaled to Visbhume. "Mortal, come forward. Why have you established your nexus on our meadow?"

"Sire, I seem to have wandered astray; the nexus was not intended for Madling Meadow, despite its many fascinations. But I wonder of the boy whom you nurtured so wisely five years ago; where is he now? I would speak with him."

"What boy is this?" Then, after Queen Bossum whispered in his ear: "He is gone; he is away through the forest. We know nothing of him."

"That is a pity; I have long felt curiosity on his account."

To the side stood a fairy with a boy's body and a girl's face, who scratched himself incessantly: head, belly, leg, buttock, nose, elbow, neck. Looking up from his scratching he took time to call out: "It was that little braggart we called Tippet! Ah, but I punished him properly, with a fine mordet*!"

*mordet: a fairy invocation, usually of bad luck; a curse King Throbius spoke to the side.

"Where is good Skepe of the long arm?"

"I am here, Sire."

"Cut a fine switch and dust Falael's breeches with three and one-half smart celebrations."

Falael instantly set up a howling outcry. "Let fairness prevail! I spoke only truth!"

"Hereafter, when you speak truth, use less gusto and vainglory. Your mordet caused our humiliation! You must learn tact!"

"Ah, your Majesty, I have already been taught tact by your august example! Perhaps I already know too much, so that I cloak my awe at your Majesty's transcendent might with a possibly all too transparent film of bravado! I beg that you re-instruct Skepe from his work!"

From everywhere around the meadow came a thoughtful and approving murmur, and even King Throbius was affected. "Well spoken, Falael! Skepe, diminish by one full stroke your effort!"

Falael called out: "That is good news, your Majesty, but still it is only a start! May I continue my remarks?"

"I have heard enough."

"In that case, Sire, I will say no more, especially if you will agree to mitigate my itch."

"Impossible. The itch shall proceed, in order to cure that waspish malice which has wearied so many of us."

Visbhume called out: "Your Majesty, if you will allow me a word aside with Falael, I believe that I can persuade him to remorse."

King Throbius stroked his fine green-gold beard. "That would seem a kindly act, and surely could do no harm."

"Thank you, your Majesty." Visbhume signaled to Falael. "Step over here, if you will."

Falael dealt with an itch under his left arm-pit, then followed Visbhume to a place somewhat aside. "Mind you, I will hear no preachments and if you touch me with a Christian cross, I will transform all your teeth into barnacles."

Skepe spoke hopefully to King Throbius: "If I find them standing properly side by side, may I come up quietly behind and catch them two at a blow?"

King Throbius reflected, then signified in the negative. "Your switch is far too short."

Visbhume, overhearing the conversation, took pains to stand with Skepe in his range of vision. He spoke in low tones to Falael: "I will intercede for you with King Throbius if you satisfy my curiosity in regard to the boy Tippet, although naturally I cannot promise that he will heed my advice."

Falael laughed scornfully. "You will do well to intercede for yourself. I believe that you are to be transformed into a night-crake."

"Not so! I am assured of this! Tell me of the boy Tippet."

"There is little to tell. He was obnoxious and vain; I was instrumental in expelling him from the shee."

"Where then did he go?"

"Off into the forest, but then there was more. Rhodion, Monarch of All Fairies, with great injustice dissolved my mordet and gave the girl Glyneth the power of speech with animals, while I was rendered only this offensive itch."

"Glyneth, you say. And then?"

"I paid no heed, for my own troubles were on me. If you must know more, go to the girl Glyneth."

"And who was the boy's father, and who the mother?"

"Wood-cutters, peasants, simple human folk. Bother me no more, as I know no more!" Falael made as if to turn away, but was delayed by a severe itching of the groin.

Visbhume cried out: "But where is the boy now? How is he known?"

"I care not a whit, and I hope not to see him again, for I should surely do him a mischief and suffer new vexations in consequence. Now then, intercede for me, as you promised. If you fail, I will visit a mordet upon you!"

"I can only do my best." Visbhume turned back to face King Throbius, "Your Majesty, I find that Falael is basically congenial. He has been misled by his companions, who have brought him into disgrace. As a disinterested party, before I remove the nexus and causeway from your domain, I wish to urge that your Majesty on this occasion temper justice with mercy."

"It is a large demand which you make of me," said King Throbius.