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"Basalt, I don't think your father's death was an accident,"
he said.
Flint's nephew looked at him strangely. "Are you talking
about 'fate' or some such hooey?"
"I wish I were," Flint said sadly. "No, I think Aylmar was
murdered by a derro mage's spell."
"That's going too far!" Basalt said angrily. "I've heard
Garth's mutterings, and I know my father thought the derro
were evil. But why would they want to kill him? It doesn't
make sense!"
"It does if he discovered they were selling and transport-
ing weapons, not farm implements, and enough to start a
war!" When Basalt still looked confused, Flint pressed on,
telling Basalt how he had searched a derro wagon and what
he had found there. He left nothing out, none of his worst
imaginings, and he told him about the derro he killed.
"Seemed like I had no choice," he added.
Basalt struggled to absorb the news. "You knew all this
and yet you didn't tell anybody'? You just left?" Basalt
asked, smoldering.
Flint snorted at the irony. "As Tybalt aptly put it, 'Who
would believe the village idiot?' That's all the proof I have so
far, Bas: Garth's 'mutterings' and what I saw with my own
eyes in that wagon
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