Part 16 (1/2)

”I know already,” Arvid said, ”and do not need to ask. It is no great secret, though the location of the elfane taig is not certainly known to my informants.”

”It is to me,” the dwarf said. ”But we do not go there.” He paused, as the serving maid reappeared with a platter and picked up their used dishes. Another appeared with bowls of custard.

”Have the Sinyi moved back in, do you know?” Arvid asked, when she had left and the two rockbrothers had begun to eat.

”Oh, yes,” said the gnome, his voice now bitter. ”They say they are cleansing the hall and we will all be invited when it is done-the Elder Folk, that is. They denied my prince's request to send a delegation to search for any kapristi bodies, and said they would bring them to us if they found any.” He spat a small bone onto the floor.

”Ungracious,” Arvid murmured. ”You were involved, were you not, in its construction?”

”In small ways only,” the gnome said. He glanced at the dwarf.

”We a.s.sayed the stone,” the dwarf said. ”Declared it suitable; it was a...” He paused, then went on. ”An agreement was reached between dwarf and elf, for the stone-right-”

”It was not a fair exchange,” the gnome muttered.

”It was not your your stone,” the dwarf said. ”It was ours-the king's to give, if he chose, but he chose to trade.” stone,” the dwarf said. ”It was ours-the king's to give, if he chose, but he chose to trade.”

”Stone belongs to us, us,” the gnome said. ”As Sertig wrought, so it should be: the rockfolk to the bones of the earth, the singers to the trees above.”

”Are you saying the king had no right-?”

”I am saying no prince would have so abused Sertig's gift,” the gnome said. ”And for a female to rule-”

Arvid cleared his throat; the rockfolk looked at him, eyes narrowed. ”Rockbrothers, I am not of your kind, though I speak your language, and would not choose to hear that which might displease you later to know had been heard. Pray warn me away, or abate your quarrel.”

”Courteous,” allowed the gnome.

”Fine words,” growled the dwarf.

”So we were discussing a necklace,” Arvid went on, ”of which I know but little, save that in my hands it seemed a thing of rare beauty, such stones as only rockfolk bring from the ground.” Silence, but for munching and swallowing. ”And yet I heard you say it was not of your making.”

”It was not,” said the gnome. He wiped his mouth after a long swallow of ale. ”Neither dwarf nor gnome, to our knowledge, brought forth the stones or wrought them into that necklace. Nor was it elf-made.”

”Surely,” Arvid said, ”it was not made by men.”

”It did not make itself,” the dwarf said. ”And who else might have made it, if not dwarf, gnome, or elf? Humankind it must be, but not from here.”

”From across the sea?” Arvid asked, tenting his fingers.

The two rockfolk looked at each other and back at Arvid. They said nothing.

”Old Aare, perhaps?” Arvid said, smiling from one to the other.

”I am thinking you know little and ask much,” the gnome said. ”Your answers to our questions told us nothing.”

”I do not ask,” Arvid said. ”I but think aloud. If not from here, or Aarenis, or across the eastern sea, or far Kolobia, or the Westmounts, then it must be from somewhere else, and the only somewhere else I can think of is Old Aare.”

”Cursed land,” said the gnome, pinching his lips after.

”We don't go there,” the dwarf said. ”The rock is nedross.”

”Mmm. So you,” Arvid said, looking at the dwarf, ”would simply take the thing, if you knew where it was, and-and then what?”

”It's valuable,” the dwarf said.

”Yes, but its value varies. Where would you sell it, if you could?”

”Why should one tell you?” the gnome asked. ”What value would you return for this information?”

Arvid shrugged. ”Perhaps it would not be worth your while to know what I know.” He was aware of sharpened attention. ”It is not the first time I have been in Fin Panir, though it is the first time I have been invited into the Marshal-General's own library.” The quality of their silence changed again. He smiled at them. ”But come, rockbrethren, finish your meal. You have traveled far today, I'll warrant, and the day was over-hot for those used to the shelter of stone.”

The dwarf found his voice first. ”You-a thief-are invited to the Marshal-General-”

”To the library. To meet with scribes, I understand. The Marshal-General, as I am sure you're aware, is away.” He knew, but perhaps they did not, that she would be back on the morrow.

”You know where the necklace is?” asked the gnome.

”Does that information have value to you?” asked Arvid.

A stir at the doorway; Arvid did not glance that way, but watched the gnome and the dwarf, who did.

”Aye, he's here,” he heard from the landlord a few moments later.

Arvid smiled at the two who still had food before them. ”I expect it's my guide; I will be sleeping tonight in the Girdish headquarters. I shall hope not to see you before sunrise.” Then he turned and raised a hand to acknowledge the bearded Marshal edging his way between tables. ”I'm quite ready, Marshal, if you won't join me for a mug.”

”Thank you, no,” the man said. ”Marshal Perin, that's my name. Evening, rockbrothers.” He spoke in Common, not their tongue, and the two merely nodded. He turned back to Arvid. ”You've a horse needs stabling, I understand?”

”Yes, if you've room. I've paid a night's bait for him here, but since I'm moving, I'd prefer to take him along.”

”No problem. Settled?”

”Oh, yes. My pack's just here-” Arvid plucked it from the shelf that ran along the wall, and handed the landlord the wooden tag on a thong that proved it his.

By the time they reached the complex of buildings where the former king's palace had once been, Arvid had told Marshal Perin about the dwarf, the apparent dwarf who was really a gnome.

”Really? He's not wearing gray, and he's with a dwarf; I didn't know they did that.”

”He's a kteknik, kteknik,” Arvid said. ”A spy. It's his punishment for something he did in his own tribe-Aldonfulk, he said.”

Marshal Perin scowled. ”They punish their people by making them spies?”

”For some crimes, yes. Service to the prince, it's called. He can't wear his tribe's uniform-”

”They're all just gray, aren't they?”

Arvid sighed to himself. ”Not quite, Marshal. They're all gray or black, but each princedom has a uniform-it may be the lay of the collar, the b.u.t.tons, the cuffs-and it is death for a gnome to wear the uniform of another tribe, to which he is not ent.i.tled. He cannot wear his own again until his prince decides the information he brings back balances whatever it was he did. The usual thing is for a kteknik kteknik to work with a dwarf, because in colored clothes he can pa.s.s for a young dwarf.” to work with a dwarf, because in colored clothes he can pa.s.s for a young dwarf.”

”How many of the beardless dwarves we see are ktet-ketick-whatevers?”

”Most to all,” Arvid said. ”Didn't you know that?”