It led to a huge, barnlike cave, where motherly cows nursed small baby calves, and old bullheads chewed cud complacently. Standing in a Kingly stall was Ferdinand, a huge and noble bull of a man. Moola conducted us straight to him. Moola had to translate, as we did not comprehend bovine language. The King, however, appeared to understand our speech well enough. Royal creatures do seem to place a premium on education, and at times that really helps. “Greetings, your Majesty,” Threnody said, making a formal bow. It was evident that the males dominated this herd, so she, as our apparent male, was expected to be the important person. I stifled my annoyance at this rank sexism for now; I'd give Threnody a piece of my mind later. “We are deeply grateful for your timely assistance in rescuing us from the gnomes.” The King mooed. Moola translated: “Zoze Mnovozzee Mnomz arr aa vaane!” “Those Gnobody Gnomes are a pain,”
