her hair as dark as Morlock’s, her skin nearly as pale. There was nothing crooked or dwarvish about her, though. (Earno had begun to fear that everyone was like that in the north.) There was nothing hidden about her, either. Earno was announced while she was sitting over the remains of her dinner, and she leapt up to greet the summoner. By that time Earno had entered the room, and the Arbiter suddenly stopped and stared. Obviously she had been expecting his peer, but Earno (with his red-gray beard and stocky build) cut quite a different figure from the dark-skinned knifelike Lernaion. The Arbiter laughed, confessed her surprise, and led her guest to the seat of honor as the remains of her meal were borne away.
Earno tried not to follow these with his eyes, but his host noted the effort and said, “Yes, it’s poor stuff. But we’re not starving, nor need you while you’re with us.”
“I’m surprised,” admitted Earno, “since it’s past harvest, and Ranga í Rayal is said to have rich farmland.”
The Arbiter flushed, pleased, yet somehow embarrassed at the compliment. “It has,” she said. “And harvest is long past. So’s slaughtering, in fact, or should be. But we have had no drudgings—you would say ‘shipments,’ I guess—from Ranga for nearly a month.”
“That seems strange.”
“It is strange. But we have stores to rely on. Any throw, we expect relief . . . soon. Perhaps the slaughtering held them up there. It can be tricky, sometimes.”
Earno nodded and smiled politely. He had run away from his parents’ farm in Westhold when still young; it had been slaughtering season. After some more talk about Ranga and its colony, he said, “I’ve come to consult with my peer, Summoner Lernaion. I take it you’ve seen him.”
“Keep you! Many times! He’s been in the ‘Hold for months, setting the Wards. He left here the last time less than half a month ago.”
“Bound for where?”
“Thrymhaiam. Where else can you go? All roads up here lead to the wormhuggers, since they made them. Fortunately all roads lead away from them, too, if you understand me.”
Earno thought he did. “Wormhuggers” must be some local slur for dwarves. Earno felt as if he should object, but really could not bring himself to. “Did the summoner seem disturbed?” he asked.
“Well, the summoner never showed his feelings, not to me. But there were plenty among his escort who were worried sick. And I’ve seen the Wards set before; never have I seen it take so long.”
“Did he mention what was wrong?”
“We hardly spoke, not as you and I are doing now. But, again, I heard from his escort that he was worried about the banefires. They are burning brighter and higher this year than ever before.”
Earno nodded. Things were not as bad as he had feared, but he was glad he had come. “We will not trouble you long. Tomorrow we will follow Lernaion to Thrymhaiam, and thence probably to Thains’ Northtower. But if we could find lodgings for the night . . .”
The Arbiter looked welcoming and apprehensive at once. “Your escort is . . . ?”
“One thain only,” Earno reassured her, realizing that she must be thinking of her limited store of food. “And—”
At that there came a knocking on the door, and sounds of shouting rang in the entryway. Arbiter and summoner rose together and went to investigate.
They found a pair of the Arbiter’s servants carrying an unconscious man while another servant struggled to close the door against a crowd of angry townspeople. At the entrance of the Arbiter silence fell immediately. Earno recognized the unconscious man as his thain.
The Arbiter turned to one of her servants. “Tell me,” she said curtly.
“The man was selling food, Arbiter. It’s that one—the wormhugger from Thrymhaiam. He had two packs of food, and he was selling it, and the crowd formed, and things got out of hand. We came and took him into sanctuary, or were trying to.”
“He said he’d sell me flatbread for some dried meat,” shouted a man at the doorway. “He wouldn’t take money. I haven’t had meat for fifty days! It’s them that stopped the drudgings! So they could do this to us!” Others began shouting behind him.
Earno stood forward and spoke one of the Silent Words. Everyone clapped their hands over their ears except Earno himself, who was braced at the shock-center, and the unconscious man, who was unceremoniously dumped on the floor. As their ears were still ringing Earno spoke into the