its two round open ings were now double-shuttered against the autumn chill. A large, spotless hearth was the room's focal point, and the furniture was a dozen or so chairs and a large rectangular ta ble, for meals were taken here.
The rest of the house spread out behind the front room.
Five other chambers had been carved into the hillside and shored up with perfectly matched and cut stone, so that not a speck of earth could be seen between cracks. Two rooms had been added to the east side nearest the barn for Ruberik, who made his living as a farmer.
Glynnis was a housefrawl; Fidelia worked at the grain mill; the next oldest brothers, Tybalt and Bernhard, consta ble and carpenter respectively. They and the remaining seven siblings all lived nearby, having grown up and moved out. To tonight's party they had brought a tumbling mass of nieces and nephews, many of whom had been born since
Flint's departure, and brothers- and sisters-in-law who seemed to outnumber his siblings.
Yet Flint wondered about his favorite nephew, Aylmar's eldest son, Basalt, who was conspicuous by his absence. It seemed odd that the boy was not at his mother's side during her time of grief. On the other hand, Basalt's brothers and sisters — Aylmar and Bertina had had more than half a dozen children, by Flint's best reckoning — had been strug gling to outdo each other in offering comforts to their noto rious Uncle Flint. He could neither smoke nor drink fast enough to keep up with the refills they offered him. A seem ingly endless stream of plates, each loaded with an unusual treat, was placed before him by a niece or nephew. He sam pled spiced goose eggs, cream cakes and fruit pies, bits of succulent meat, fish larvae, and other exotic delights.
A pair of geese had been butchered and an impromptu feast prepared. Flint tore off a bite from a drumstick now and decided to engage Ruberik in a discussion more suited to his brother's somber mood.
Taking a handkerchief from his pocket, Flint scrubbed the grease from his mustache and beard. 'Please tell me,' he be gan, 'what you know of our brother's untimely death.'
Ruberick grew grimmer still. 'Aylmar had been laboring at his trade, blacksmithing, and his heart gave out on him.'
The dwarf shook his head sadly. 'It's as simple as that.'
'We told him not to work so hard!' exclaimed Bernhard, who was seated next to Flint in a hard wooden chair. The seventh Fireforge sibling, his soft black hair prematurely balding, leaned forward and knotted his thick, calloused hands. 'But that is one of the reasons why he was the best at his craft.'
'The money was just too much temptation,' interrupted
Ruberik. 'He couldn't resist the offer to work for the derro.'
'Yeah,' Bernhard said vacantly. 'Anyway, Aylmar was called to the forge in the derro's camp — they've taken over
Delwar's forge — to fix a wheel late one morning.'
Flint found it difficult to believe that the Aylmar he'd known would have had anything to do with derro, but he had been gone a long time… Flint remembered the walled yard near the town smithy.
'That place has become a blighthole filled with evil der ro!' interjected Ruberik again. 'A blemish on the face of our hills!'
Bernhard rocked his chair onto its back legs. 'You don't think it's such a blemish when you take your cheese there to sell,' he commented wryly, 'nor when you build an addition to your abode with the profits.' He squinted up through one eye to glimpse his brother's angry, red face.
'That's business! Mind your elders!' was Ruberik's stern reply.
Bernhard rolled his eyes and lowered his chair to the floor with a bang. 'Anyway, Aylmar went to the yard that day,
'an emergency,' they said. Any smith would've taken the job — these derro panic at the thought of missing a night on the road, so they pay real good for day work and such — '
'And Aylmar, the damned fool, had to take on this one job too many,' Ruberick interrupted yet again, unable to conceal his anguish. 'He died beside his forge, among stran gers, what is worse.'
'Garth, the dimwit, found him there all blue,' finished Bernhard matter-of-factly.
Bertina gasped, and Fidelia elbowed her brother in the head. 'Have a care, will you?'
'Uh, sorry, Berti,' the carpenter said limply, making a hasty exit to help with the tapping of a new keg.
'But if these are mountain dwarves,' interjected Flint,
'why isn't there a smith among them who can fix their wagons?'
'I can explain that,' said Tybalt, stepping away from the fire to join the circle. He was a stocky, unsmiling dwarf who had inherited all of the worst Fireforge features: the bulbous nose, their mother's weight, and their father's slight chin.
Even when off duty, he wore his constable uniform — shiny leather breastplate and shoulder protectors hardened in boiling oil and dyed blue, gray tunic beneath that to his knees, gray leg wraps, and thick-soled leather shoes. He re moved it only once a week to bathe.
'Mayor Holden wisely made it a condition of the agree ment that the mountain dwarves use the services of the hill dwarves when in Hillhome — extra money for our crafts men.' Tybalt brushed a piece of string from his breastplate.
'Besides, the derro hate light so much that they would never station a smith above ground so far from Thorbardin. If it weren't for Hillhome, they'd have to bring a smith along on every trip just in case of breakdowns, which would be ex ceedingly costly.' Tybalt struck a ramrod pose. 'Everyone says Mayor Holden drove an excellent bargain with the Theiwar.'
Fidelia snorted indelicately and ruffled Tybalt's dark hair as she strolled by him. 'You tell that to anyone who will lis ten because you're bucking for a promotion, Brother!' She took another pull on her mug of ale.
Hearing an opening to the question that had brought him here, Flint leaned forward intently, his elbows on his knees as his eyes scanned the group. 'I came all the way from Sol ace to find out why Hillhome is dealing with mountain dwarves at all, let alone derro! Can someone give me a good answer 7'
Everyone began talking at once, and Flint was forced to wave his arms above his head and whistle for silence. He looked at his brother the constable. 'You seem to know the details of this 'agreement,' Tybalt. Why don't you explain it to me.'
Looking flattered at his older brother's attention, Tybalt cleared his throat. 'It started about a year ago, them using the pass. They leave Thorbardin and meet up with the
Passroad somewhere around the western shore of Stone hammer Lake. They're taking their cargo to the coast at
Newsea. We hear they've got a jetty set up in some cove, where they meet ships from the north and transfer their goods.'
'So, how did it all start?'
Tybalt paused and scratched his chin. 'One day, a short one of these derro, kind of bent over like, showed up and met with the mayor and a bunch of the elders. Offered to pay twenty steel pieces a wagon — twenty steel, mind you — if we'd let them come over our pass.
'Course there was still some, like Aylmar, who wanted nothing to do with them. But the deal was struck. Then, the wagons started comin' through,' Tybalt said, punching his hand for emphasis. 'They make the run to the coast, and on the way back the derro stock up on grain, beer, cheese, all manner of stuff you can't get where there's no sun. Pay in good steel coin, twice or more what anybody could charge before. It started out with only one wagon a day coming and going, a few derro on each. They must be doing twice or more than that, now.'
'And always derro, the Theiwar?' asked Flint.
'Yup. Some stay with their wagons, but most sleep at the inns in town during the day. They don't mix much with townfolk. There's been a few fights and such, but they don't try to cause too much trouble… usually.
'The town's never had so much in its treasury, and all of us're doing better than we ever thought possible,' Tybalt concluded defensively.
'So what you're saying is, Hillhome is allowing mountain dwarves in the village strictly for the profit,' Flint concluded numbly.
'Can you think of a better reason?' Bernhard asked inno cently.
Flint's temper exploded as he jumped to his feet. 'I can't think of any reason to have dealings with mountain dwarves!' He glared angrily into each and every face. 'Has everyone here forgotten the Great Betrayal? Or the
