“My Lord,” Muckle said with a grand bow. “May I present Sir Corc, called the Constant. Knight Errant of the Order of the Vibrant Spurt.”

“Intriguing,” the Lord of the Pile said, looking directly at Sir Corc, his tone neither mocking nor apologetic. “I thought coburn to be prickly creatures. Easily slighted even if they lack a knight’s vows. But this one,” his voice pointed at Muckle. “He insults your order and yet I hear no reproach. I see no anger.”

“I have known Muckle a long time,” was all Corc offered for explanation.

“I feel as if I have, too,” the Lord said wearily. “He has come to me with tedious regularity of late. Have I grown so esteemed that I warrant a visit from emissaries of both your Order and Toad Holm?”

“Your Lordship is much loved,” Muckle said.

“Much scrutinized,” the other goblin replied, his eyes still on Sir Corc. “Tell me Sir, what do you seek from me that you would send so persistent an envoy to plead an audience?”

“Many audiences have been requested of you,” Sir Corc said evenly. “And refused. Only you can say why you granted this one.”

The Lord of the Pile smiled thinly. “Perhaps I seek some recognition of legitimacy.”

“That would not be for my Order to decide. The Seelie Court--”

The Lord held up a hand calmly. “The Seelie Court no longer has such power. If Irial Elven-King had anything to say regarding my governance he would have done so by now. I take his silence for acceptance, and any disapproval, if it exists, is lacking in sufficient strength to enforce it. Now, please. Tell me why you have come.”

He is so calm.

“As you say,” Sir Corc replied. “I represent the Knights of the Valiant Spur. Our Grandmaster and the oath we take ensure we keep a vested interest in the powers of this isle. I have standing instructions to speak with you and take your measure. You have refused us for years. There was no reason to suspect you would not again. Personally, I do not care if you choose to speak to me or not, but I do follow the orders that have been given to me.”

More than six words. Impressive.

The Lord of the Pile must have thought so also, for his thin smile deepened. “And yet your actions betray your words. If you possessed such lingering apathy you would not have allied yourself with our fat go-between here.”

Muckle’s face jerked in overly acted shock and he looked from the Lord up to Rosheen and back again. “My Lord, manners! It is not polite to call her fat. I find her to be quite svelte…shapely certainly, but in all the right places and…”