and arrows were being snatched up, and gnomes were running for the door.
“No!” Lief, Barda, Jasmine, and Prin shouted at the tops of their voices. Their voices echoed around the feasting hall.
And the gnomes stopped.
“Have you not learned better than this?” demanded Lief, as Prin clung to him in terror. “Do you not realize that the Kin should be your partners on this Mountain? Do you want the Boolong trees to continue to multiply till even the streams are choked by thorns? If I am right, the Kin are coming to rescue their young one. Youshould rejoice, and beg them to stay! You should welcome them with open arms, not seek to kill them!”
There was a moment’s silence, then Fa-Glin nodded. “Our friend is right,” he said. Regretfully he smoothed the old Kin skin jacket he wore, then he took it off and threw it at his feet.
“It is a pity. But our weavers can make fine garments enough,” he murmured. Then once again he raised his voice. “Lay down your weapons, gnomes. We will go out and greet the Kin in friendship. We will welcome them home.”
At sunrise two days later, a strange group walked down the gnomes’ pathway to the bottom of the Mountain. Prin walked with Lief, Jasmine, and Barda. Ailsa, Merin, and Bruna came next. Fa-Glin and Gla-Thon brought up the rear.
They spoke little as they walked, for more than one heart was heavy at the thought of the parting to come. But when they reached the road at the Mountain’s base, where a bridge spanned the stream, they turned to one another.
“We thank you and will think of you every day,” Ailsa murmured, bending and touching each of the travellers on the forehead. “Because of you we are home, and Little — I mean, Prin — is with us once more.”
Merin smiled as she and Bruna farewelled the companions in their turn. “As she has told us many times, Prin has grown too tall and strong in these lastdays to be called Little One anymore. Besides, now that we are here again, there will be more young, and she will no longer be the smallest among us.”
As she stepped back, Fa-Glin stepped forward. “The Dread Gnomes also thank you,” he said gruffly, bowing low. He held out his hand and Gla-Thon passed him a small carved box of Boolong tree bark. This Fa-Glin gave to Lief.
Lief opened the box. Inside was a golden arrowhead. “We owe you a great debt,” said Fa-Glin. “If ever you need us, we are yours to the death. And this is a token of our oath.”
“Thank you,” said Lief, and bowed in his turn. “And you will follow the plan …?”
“Indeed we will.” Fa-Glin’s teeth gleamed through his white beard as he grinned. “Next full moon, and every full moon from now on, the poison jars will be at this spot as usual. But their contents will not be the same, though the liquid will look identical. Stream water mixed with Boolong sap, I fancy, will do the trick. We and the Kin together will make the brew. It has been decided.”
“And our last supplies of Gellick’s venom will be kept safe,” added Gla-Thon. “So that when at last our Enemy realizes what we are doing, and comes for us, we will be ready. Then, and only then, will our arrows be tipped with poison once more.”
“It is our hope —” Barda hesitated, then went oncarefully. “It is our hope that your Mountain will not be invaded. Before long there may come a time when the Enemy will have other concerns.”
The Kin glanced at one another, confused. But Fa-Glin and Gla-Thon nodded, their eyes gleaming. They had sworn never to speak of the stone that had fallen into Lief’s hand, or of what he had done with it. They had not asked for an explanation of the glittering, gem-studded Belt into which the emerald had fitted, or the two empty spaces that still glared blankly along the Belt’s length. But perhaps they did not need to ask. Perhaps they knew, or guessed, the truth, for the Dread Gnomes were an old race, with long, long memories.
Lief felt Prin’s gentle touch
“No!” Lief, Barda, Jasmine, and Prin shouted at the tops of their voices. Their voices echoed around the feasting hall.
And the gnomes stopped.
“Have you not learned better than this?” demanded Lief, as Prin clung to him in terror. “Do you not realize that the Kin should be your partners on this Mountain? Do you want the Boolong trees to continue to multiply till even the streams are choked by thorns? If I am right, the Kin are coming to rescue their young one. Youshould rejoice, and beg them to stay! You should welcome them with open arms, not seek to kill them!”
There was a moment’s silence, then Fa-Glin nodded. “Our friend is right,” he said. Regretfully he smoothed the old Kin skin jacket he wore, then he took it off and threw it at his feet.
“It is a pity. But our weavers can make fine garments enough,” he murmured. Then once again he raised his voice. “Lay down your weapons, gnomes. We will go out and greet the Kin in friendship. We will welcome them home.”
At sunrise two days later, a strange group walked down the gnomes’ pathway to the bottom of the Mountain. Prin walked with Lief, Jasmine, and Barda. Ailsa, Merin, and Bruna came next. Fa-Glin and Gla-Thon brought up the rear.
They spoke little as they walked, for more than one heart was heavy at the thought of the parting to come. But when they reached the road at the Mountain’s base, where a bridge spanned the stream, they turned to one another.
“We thank you and will think of you every day,” Ailsa murmured, bending and touching each of the travellers on the forehead. “Because of you we are home, and Little — I mean, Prin — is with us once more.”
Merin smiled as she and Bruna farewelled the companions in their turn. “As she has told us many times, Prin has grown too tall and strong in these lastdays to be called Little One anymore. Besides, now that we are here again, there will be more young, and she will no longer be the smallest among us.”
As she stepped back, Fa-Glin stepped forward. “The Dread Gnomes also thank you,” he said gruffly, bowing low. He held out his hand and Gla-Thon passed him a small carved box of Boolong tree bark. This Fa-Glin gave to Lief.
Lief opened the box. Inside was a golden arrowhead. “We owe you a great debt,” said Fa-Glin. “If ever you need us, we are yours to the death. And this is a token of our oath.”
“Thank you,” said Lief, and bowed in his turn. “And you will follow the plan …?”
“Indeed we will.” Fa-Glin’s teeth gleamed through his white beard as he grinned. “Next full moon, and every full moon from now on, the poison jars will be at this spot as usual. But their contents will not be the same, though the liquid will look identical. Stream water mixed with Boolong sap, I fancy, will do the trick. We and the Kin together will make the brew. It has been decided.”
“And our last supplies of Gellick’s venom will be kept safe,” added Gla-Thon. “So that when at last our Enemy realizes what we are doing, and comes for us, we will be ready. Then, and only then, will our arrows be tipped with poison once more.”
“It is our hope —” Barda hesitated, then went oncarefully. “It is our hope that your Mountain will not be invaded. Before long there may come a time when the Enemy will have other concerns.”
The Kin glanced at one another, confused. But Fa-Glin and Gla-Thon nodded, their eyes gleaming. They had sworn never to speak of the stone that had fallen into Lief’s hand, or of what he had done with it. They had not asked for an explanation of the glittering, gem-studded Belt into which the emerald had fitted, or the two empty spaces that still glared blankly along the Belt’s length. But perhaps they did not need to ask. Perhaps they knew, or guessed, the truth, for the Dread Gnomes were an old race, with long, long memories.
Lief felt Prin’s gentle touch
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