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demonstrated that the troll Mangeon is not included among your forbears. This,
by itself, should induce an almost delirious euphoria.
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Madouc managed the quiver of a smile. In this regard, Your Highness, I am
happy beyond words!
Good! King Throbius pulled at his beard and glanced around the meadow, to
discover the whereabouts of Queen Bossum. At the moment she was nowhere in
sight. King Throbius spoke in a somewhat lighter voice than before: Tonight
we shall celebrate Mangeon s defeat! There will be a banquet both elegant and
exclusive; only persons of special éclat will be present, all in full regalia.
We will dine on the terrace under five hundred ghost-lanterns; the viands will
be exquisite, equally so the wines! The feast will proceed until midnight, to
be followed by a pavane under the moon, to melodies of the utmost sweetness.
It sounds very fine, said Madouc.
That is our intent. Now then: since you are visiting the shee in a special
capacity, and have achieved a certain reputation, you will be allowed to
attend the banquet. King Throbius stood back, smiling and toying with his
beard. You have heard the invitation; will you elect to be present?
Madouc looked uneasily off across the meadow, uncertain how best to reply. She
felt the king s gaze on her face; darting a side glance she discovered an
expression which surprised her. It was like that she had once glimpsed in the
red-brown eyes of a fox. Madouc blinked; when she looked back, King Throbius
was as bland and stately as ever.
Once again King Throbius asked: How say you? Will you attend the banquet? The
queen s own seamstress shall provide your gown-perhaps a delicious trifle
woven of dandelion fluff, or a flutter of spider-silk stained with
pomegranate.
Madouc shook her head. I thank Your Highness, but I am not ready for such a
splendid affair. Your guests would be strange to me, with customs beyond my
knowledge, and I might unwittingly give offense or make myself foolish.
Fairies are as tolerant as they are sympathetic, said King Throbius.
They are also known for their surprises. I fear all fairy revelry; in the
morning-who knows? I
might find myself a withered crone forty years old! Many thanks, Your
Highness! But I must decline the invitation.
King Throbius, smiling his easy smile, made a sign of equanimity. You must
act to your best desires. The day verges into afternoon. Yonder stands Twisk;
go and say your goodbyes; then you may take your leave of Thripsey Shee.
One question, Sire, as to the magical adjuncts you have allowed me.
They are transient. The pebble already has lost its force. The glamour
lingers more lovingly, but tomorrow you may pull all you like at your ear, to
no avail. Go now and consult your fractious mother.
Madouc approached Twisk, who pretended an interest in the sheen of her silver
fingernails.
Mother! I will soon be leaving Thripsey Shee.
A wise decision. I bid you farewell.
First, dear Mother, you must tell me more of Sir Pellinore.
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As you like, said Twisk without enthusiasm. The sun is warm; let us sit in
the shade of the beech tree.
The two settled themselves cross-legged in the grass. Fairies one by one came
to sit around them, that they might hear all that transpired and share in any
new sensation. Sir Pom-Pom also came slouching across the meadow, to stand
leaning against the beech tree, where presently he was joined by Travante.
Twisk sat pensively chewing on a blade of grass. There is little to tell,
beyond what you already know. Still, this is what happened.
Twisk told the tale in a musing voice, as if she were remembering the events
of a bittersweet dream. She admitted that she had been taunting Mangeon,
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