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Nomscul looked suspicious. "You promise? You won't run
away?"
Flint rolled his eyes. "I promise on my honor as a Fire-
forge that I will be your king and not run away."
Nomscul squinted in concentration. "For how long?"
Flint sighed. "A promise is a promise! For as long as you
need me."
"And I'll be your queen," Perian said, stepping forward,
smiling at Flint with a twinkle in her eye. He gave her a
wink.
A cheer went up in the room and spread to the rest of the
Aghar waiting in the hall.
"Get crown! Get crown!" Flint saw the crowd passing
something forward, until the object was placed in Nom-
scul's hands. The gully dwarf shaman held forth a jagged
metal crown and placed it proudly on Flint's sweat-soaked
gray hair. The cold metal ring immediately slipped over the
hill dwarf's eyes, forward off of his face, and fell with a
"tink!" to the dirt floor. Nomscul quickly replaced it, and
just as quickly it slid down Flint's head again, bounced off
the arm of the chair, and flew through the air.
"Gee, a game! Crowntoss!" Nomscul giggled into Flint's
face
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