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. Her
face glowed a bright crimson that paled all her previous
blushes. "You can tell me, Flint. Why would you do such a
terrible thing?" she asked, but there was no harsh judgment
in her voice.
Flint felt he owed her, wife of his murdered brother, as
much of the truth as he dared. "It was self-defense," he said
vaguely, measuring his words.
Bertina brightened through her tears. "Then why don't
you stay and tell the mayor that? He'll take your word over
those of the derro!"
"Do you think so, if it meant he would lose the mountain
dwarves' trade?" Flint shook his head. "No, it's not that sim-
ple, Berti." He hugged her awkwardly and headed for the
door.
"Were are you going?"
"I don't know," Flint said evasively. "But don't worry, Ber-
tina, I'll be back some day.... Soon. Say good-bye to ev-
eryone for me." She slipped a sack full of food into his
hands, brushed a kiss across his bristly cheek, then fled into
her room at the back of the house.
Flint stood in the sorrowful silence a moment and looked
around his family's home one last time. He wished he could
have settled things with Basalt, said good-bye to Bernhard
and his sisters - the saucy Fidelia, and naive Glynnis - but
they were at work in the town
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