Elvenborn

ornamental bead-work, skilled leather work, horn bows, and weaving. They had linen—flax grew abundantly on the plains, and outriders made sure that the cattle didn't devour it before the women had a chance to gather it. They did not have sheep, although they did have goats and were skilled at spinning and weaving goat-hair. The Traders had raw wool, glass, stone, and pottery objects, flour and salt, some very specific wood products—like long­bows of yew, which the warriors were very impressed with— and arrowheads, which were always in short supply. They also had some copper trinkets, copper pots, and a few ingots of cop­per. But most of all, of course, the Iron People really wanted iron more than anything else, and at the initial trading session it was clear to Rena that they were disappointed not to see any.

Still, they covered their disappointment well, and trading on the first day proceeded briskly. At the end of the day, Halkan, the spokesman and leader of this particular group, invited the im­portant members of the tribe to dinner in his tent, and included Mero and Rena in on the invitation more out of politeness than anything else. The Trader clans had a set of firm agreements with the Wizards, and it wasn't as if he could have expected any­thing new out of two envoys to these odd, ebony-skinned folk.

Mero had never seen an actual camp of the Trader clans be­fore, and looked around with lively interest as they accompa­nied Diric and Kala to the modest feast. The Iron People lived in round tents constructed of hides and felt; the Traders had square and rectangular pavilions of sturdy heavily-waxed cloth. Beneath the wax, random patterns of blotches of green and brown had been painted on the canvas, and he thought that it would be difficult to spot such tents in the middle of a forest. Out here, of course, they looked a bit odd.

All around the outskirts of the camp were wicker cages on poles; they weren't torches or lamps, and Mero couldn't even guess what function they were supposed to serve. As they all took their places beneath an ornamental pavilion to enjoy their hosts' hospitality, he found that the Traders had elected to place their guests on flat cushions around a central serving area, with Traders alternating with their guests. That put one of the Traders (a nervous, thin fellow) between him and Rena, which was a little annoying. He was worried that she might be uncom­fortable with the seating arrangements, but he hadn't reckoned with her early training—if she was uncomfortable between two strangers, she didn't show it.

Mero mostly stuck to small-talk with his two neighbors, al­lowing Diric and his fellow chiefs to monopolize the conversa­tion. But just as they were served a dessert of honey-drenched fruits (from the Traders' stores) and beaten cream (supplied by the Iron People), something reminded him of those curious wicker cages and he asked about them.

Out of courtesy, so that the Iron People could understand everything that was said around the circle, they both spoke in the Iron Peoples' tongue. 'Ah! Those are to protect us from the Demons and their magic,' said the young Trader whose name Mero hadn't caught. 'We put fool's gold in them, and it works as the iron jewelry does.'

Heads snapped in their direction from all around the circle the moment that the word 'iron' was spoken. 'What is this?' Diric demanded.

The Clan-chief explained, and tried to describe the contents

of the ward-baskets in such a way that the Iron People would understand, but Diric was baffled. 'Wait—' he said, finally, and sent one of the younger Traders to fetch one of the baskets-.

In front of Diric's interested gaze, he opened the top of the basket and poured out about three fistfulls worth of glittering, gold-colored stones with rough surfaces. 'Fool's gold,' the Trader-chief said dismissively. 'Fools think it is real gold; it is good only for keeping the—'

He stopped, his face a study in bewilderment, as Diric ut­tered a cry of triumph and scooped up two handfuls of the stones, brandishing them over his head.

'Tell him!' the red-haired Trader-chief said, whirling and addressing Mero frantically. 'Tell him it is not gold! Tell him that it is worthless!'

But what Diric and the others were shouting was not gold— nor would they have been half so excited over a basketful of true gold nuggets.

'Iron!' Diric bellowed with joy, 'Iron!'

And he and the others ran out of the camp, leaving Mero and Rena to try to explain.

'We call these things 'iron pyrites,' and there are things we can do with them that we cannot with other iron,' Kala said to Rena, as she bent, gloating, over her precious pile of rocks. Once the Traders realized how much their 'fool's gold' was valued by the Iron People, it didn't take long for them to trade away all they had, trusting to their own skills and a promised escort of bull-riders to make it back to the cover of forested lands safely. They didn't have much, but at least they knew where there was more, and the Iron People were no longer threatening to take their herds and the Corn People and go elsewhere.

'It is the women who will most value these,' Kala continued. 'The men would only wish to melt them down. There are better things to be done with these stones.'

Rena watched in fascination as Kala made good her words, her plump, stubby fingers moving with great skill and surpris-

ing delicacy, as she cut and faceted tiny 'gemstones' from the iron pyrites, little things that glittered like black diamonds. It took unbelievable patience.

'What are you going to do with these?' Rena asked, stirring a finished one in the palm of her hand with one finger.

'Oh, I shall melt down the waste and cast it into a setting for it,' Kala responded absently. 'It will be a different style than you have seen heretofore, but I think you will like it. We have agreed to exchange it for the raw pyrites, so that the Traders need no longer waste these precious things in baskets on poles in order to protect themselves. One weight of jewelry to ten weights of pyrites.'

There was no doubt in Rena's mind that Kala thought she was getting the better part of the bargain. Rena continued to watch her for a while, but Kala became so involved in her work that it seemed an intrusion to stay, and she got up and went to look for Mero.

'We have a problem,' she said to him, worriedly, as soon as she caught sight of him hurrying towards her through the tents.

'I know; Diric told me the trade-agreement,' he replied, just as worried. 'I mean, it's a good thing that they've got some iron, but this cuts us right out of everything. They can get most of what they need from either the Corn People or the Traders—'

'—so what use are the Wizards to them?' Rena concluded for him. 'If the Elvenlords do manage to defeat the Young Lords and come after us, why should the Iron People bother to help now? There's nothing in the alliance for them!'

Mero nodded. 'They're nothing if not practical.' He set his chin. 'Right. First of all, we need to get in touch with Shana and let her know what's happened. Maybe she'll have some ideas.'

'And next?' Rena asked, hopefully. Mero was resourceful— surely he could think of something they could do!

'I can't think of a 'next,'' he replied, dashing her hopes. 'I only wish I could....'

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