Stag Party
OneMy lord, do you not think..."
"Eh? What's that? Speak up, Stewart, you're positively mumbling."
Stewart the steward (we have many a good laugh over that) looked pointedly at the stone statue in front of me. "My lord "
I held up my free hand. "Please, not you, too. It's bad enough having 'Most gracious lord this' and 'Oh worshipful lord that' coming from the druids, but you've known me for...phew, how many years now? Three hundred? Four?"
"Five hundred and twelve," the little man answered, wincing as I scratched my belly and sighed with relief. "I've always called you my lord. If not that, what do you wish me to call you?"
"Didn't we go through this last year? It's Hearne. Dane Hearne. Know it, use it, love it."
"Aye, my...Mr. Hearne. But...eh...is that not a bit sacrilegious?"
"Not in the least. It's ...
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