Holar Peter Wilton prepared to respond with his sword. "Enough! You damn fools," Walin Barklo Vaslov shouted, rushing between the two men, their sword tips mere inches from his temples. "Yes! We killed that woman because she threatened us—she said unless we took her to Duviliel, she'd report to the Godmans that we broke our agreement!" He looked from one dwarf to the other, their blades trembling with tension. "And you'd spill your kinsmen's blood over this, would you?"

  "Fine, fine." Wilton lowered his short sword. "Now that you've laid everything bare, our decision becomes much simpler." He turned toward the woman, who shrank back instinctively. "You're not deaf, are you, madam?"

  "Don't be so hasty, Wilton!" Toyef Bilinski sheathed his sword as well. "You've always been level-headed. Why such impetuousness now?"

  "I'm decisive, not impetuous," Wilton retorted, his gaze that of a wounded viper, a thwarted predator. "This woman has heard everything. If she speaks to the Godmans, we're all doomed. They'll not only have reason to continue enforcing the Humanoid Act—they'll hang every one of us."

  "I heard nothing! My lords, I swear!" The poor woman wailed desperately.

  Wilton sneered. "At least you heard my question, madam," he said slowly. "You're not a fool, and neither am I. You know how this ends."

  The woman dissolved into tears.

  "Let's wait for the boy before deciding," Walin Barklo Vaslov grabbed Wilton's arm. "Perhaps he saw nothing."

  "It doesn't matter. Whether he knows or not doesn't change the fact that this woman knows the truth."

  Toyef Bilinski gritted his teeth. "At the very least, let's wait for the boy—"

  "Mother! Mother!" A high-pitched voice rang through the Rubescent Forest, interrupting Jim's stargazing and waking the infant in Fendi's arms. The twin dwarves, Blue Rascal and Green Varmint, slept soundly—they would rise earlier than anyone tomorrow to assemble the siege engine.

  "Oh, Nate!" The mother opened her arms wide at the sight of her son. But the embrace never came—Toyef blocked the boy, who was racing toward her at full speed.

  "Mother!" Nate looked from the red-haired dwarf to his mother. "What's happening?" Jim Harad approached irritably. "Is this child determined to wake the entire forest?" Fendi Firshield rubbed his eyes, still dazed and confused.

  "Mother! Listen!" The boy seemed excited by his growing audience. "We're in danger!"

  Wilton tightened his grip on his sword. "Nate... don't..."

  "You won't believe what I found by the river while peeing! A corpse! A woman's corpse!" His excitement matched what one might feel upon discovering a sack of gold. "And beside the body was this axe!" He hoisted Wilton's black axe triumphantly.

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  Wilton's face remained a stone mask.

  "Stop talking... my sweet child... please stop..." The mother pleaded softly, but to no avail. "This axe is bigger than any farmer's tool! It's a battle axe used by human soldiers!" he boasted. "We're in grave danger! Mother, my lords—the Cynthians lurk all around us!"

  Jim Harad and Fendi Firshield exchanged glances. The pallor of their faces revealed that, though they'd missed the beginning, they now grasped the consequences.

  "Obviously," Wilton said, "he found the body and the axe."

  "But he doesn't understand the truth!" Walin's words seemed more to comfort himself, providing justification not to harm the boy. "You know it, Walin," Wilton said quietly. "You're simply trying to preserve your sense of compassion."

  "My lord?" The boy looked at Toyef. "Why are you all silent? Mother, why do you weep?"

  Jim rushed to Walin. "So you've told them everything?" Walin didn't deny it. "Damn it all to hell!"

  "Nate... stop talking!" The mother sobbed inconsolably. "My child, you'll get us all killed!"

  "Give me back my axe, boy," Wilton said to Nate. "It's sharp—dangerously so."

  Nate's face drained of color. "I... I didn't know it belonged to you, my lord..." He set the axe down, quivering. "I thought... I thought..."

  "Nate!" The mother cried with all her strength. "Be silent!"

  At last, understanding dawned on him. He comprehended why a young woman lay buried by the river, and why a blood-stained dwarven axe stood sentinel over her grave. He sank to his knees.

  "I knew nothing, my lord!" He clutched at Toyef Bilinski's leg. "I merely stumbled upon it... Oh, please!" He wept. "I saw nothing—I only accidentally found this axe by the riverside... I know nothing else, my lord! Have mercy!"

  "He speaks truth, my lords!" The mother pleaded desperately. "He's but a child—he understands nothing, knows nothing! I beg you, spare him!"

  "Make your decision, Walin," Wilton said, eyeing his companion. "You're our elder."

  "...Do it," Walin Barklo Vaslov said weakly. "Separate them first, then do it." This small mercy was all he could offer the mother and child.

  "We needn't resort to this!" Fendi protested.

  "Step aside, Toyef," Wilton said evenly. "We aren't enemies."

  "Grant me a moment, Wilton. Just one." The red-haired dwarf's voice could have roused a sleeping dragon. "You two, cease your crying! Everyone else, silence!"

  Blue Rascal and Green Varmint rolled over by the tree while Thorin Durin attempted to soothe the wailing infant.

  "Go to your mother," Toyef commanded the boy. When Nate shook his head, Toyef barked, "Go now!"

  The mother embraced her son fiercely, her expression one of determined resignation, as if she would never release him again. "Allow me to speak, my kinsmen." Wilton thrust the short sword into the ground and sat down.

  "As a dwarf, like yourselves, I share in the suffering of our people—whether here in Crividsylvan or elsewhere across this continent. I understand how the Humanoid Act has brought us grief and hardship worse than the Dark Age's oppressions. But this cannot justify senseless bloodshed. We must not become like the dwarves of the Greed Age, who delighted in slaughtering the weak."

  "In these troubled times, true innocence is rare, I admit. And I acknowledge that this mother and child are neither blameless nor pure. They know of your misdeeds. As fellow dwarves, your willingness to threaten violence against this mother and son—merely because she allowed her boy to relieve himself by the river without your permission—this is your crime."

  Everyone present appeared mystified by Toyef's monologue. Everyone except Wilton, who bowed his head with the faintest smile.