think he'd lead us into a trap - but watch your back anyway.
"Enough finger-talk," the guard snarled. "Talk so's we can understand ye, if ye've got anything to say."
"Always," Ryld said aloud to Valas.
He gave the duergar a hard look, but shrugged Splitter from his shoul-der and set the greatsword against one wall. He unbuckled his short sword from its sheath at his hip and set it nearby.
"There's a curse on the big blade," he said. "You won't like what hap-pens if you try to handle it."
Valas set down his shortbow and arrows, then dropped his kukris to the ground. The duergar guards checked the two dark elves for concealed weapons, then ushered them into the gloomy shelter. The place was an office of sorts, with ledgers and records scattered about. By a large standing clerks desk stood one of the fattest gray dwarfs Ryld had ever seen, a round-bodied fellow with thick arms and heavy shoulders. Duergar tended to run toward a gaunt, broad-shouldered build despite their short, powerful stature, but the brewmaster Thummud was as round as one of his kegs.
"Coalhewer," he said by way of a greeting. "What can you do for me?"
"I've got a party of dark elves as need a writ o' business from Muzgardt," Coalhewer said. "They'd prefer not to wait on a royal permit."
"What sort of business?"
"We deal in gemstones, mostly," Valas said. "We're looking into setting up transport through the Deepkingdom. We need to be able to move around and talk to a lot of people, and as Coalhewer said, we don't want to wait for months to get a royal license."
"Ye're stupid or ye're lying, then. Ye'll pay ten times the cost ofa royal license to get a writ from our clan laird. Most merchants I know wouldn't do such a thing."
Valas glanced up at Ryld, then looked back to Thummud and said, "All right, then. We've got some rivals from back home that are doing a fine business here, and we want to sound out their suppliers to see if they can't be encouraged to sell to us instead of the others. A royal license wouldn't really extend that far, would it?"
Thummud snorted, "No, I suppose not."
"Can ye help me clients, or not?" Coalhewer asked. "Or do I have to go see Ironhead, or maybe Anvilthew?"
"Clan Muzgardt might be able to help ye," Thummud said after a long moment. "We'll want two hundred pieces of gold for each body on the writ, and ye can't have it today."
Coalhewer glanced up at the dark elves. Ryld nodded to him.
"They'll pay the laird's fee," the duergar sailor said, "but they want to get started right quick."
"Doesn't matter what yer clients want," Thummud replied with a shrug. "I'll have to take up the matter with the clan laird before I write you a pass."
"Ye never had to before!"
The fat dwarf folded his arms and set his jaw stubbornly. He glared at Coalhewer and the dark elves.
"Be that as it may, the crown prince's soldiers have been checking our writs and passes too closely of late. Horgar's let it be known that he wants to know who's in the Deepkingdom and why, and he's leaning on the clan lairds to withhold their writs. We'll be able to get yer clients theirs, I think, but I'll have to gain Muzgardt's blessing first. Come back tomorrow, or the day after."
Coalhewer muttered into his beard, but he didn't bother to argue the point any further. He jerked his head toward the curtain, and led Ryld and Valas outside. The dark elves picked up their arms, and in a few minutes they'd left the brewery behind them.
"Now, what should we make of that?" Valas wondered aloud. "Do you know another clan that might help out, Coalhewer?"
"Maybe, but if Horgar's cracking down on informal passes and such things, ye'll have trouble anywhere ye go." The dwarf scratched at his beard. "I'll have to ask some questions, and I don't think ye'd best be with me."
Ryld looked to Valas, who thought carefully before agreeing, and even then the weapons master didn't think his fellow Menzoberranyr looked sufficiently confident in their guide's loyalty.
Chapter SEVEN
When Halisstra and Danifae returned to the Cold Foundry, they found that Quenthel had rented one of the inn's larger wings, a freestanding structure with its own small common room and eight private chambers on two floors. The whole wing seemed to be built and decorated to a duer-gar's conception of drow comfort. Its furnishings were proportioned for