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. "Moldoon
dead? What are you talking about?" Flint clasped Basalt's
shoulder and spun his nephew around. "Speak up, harrn!"
Now it was Basalt's turn to explain. Hiccupping with
sobs, he recounted the events of the previous evening, just
before the gully dwarves had kidnapped him.
"... then Moldoon stepped between us to stop the fight,
and the derro stabbed him, just like that!" Basalt dropped
his face in his hands, and his shoulders shook.
Flint was stunned and grieved by the news of the old hu-
man's death. He saw the pain in Basalt's face, pictured the
casual cruelty of the derro guard. His hatred of the Theiwar
burned hotter than ever. It had become a fire that could only
be doused with blood.
"Basalt," Perian said, chewing a nail, "it sounds as if this
Moldoon was only doing what he felt he had to do. You
can't be blamed because he came between you and the der-
ro."
"Don't you see?" Basalt looked up, bleary-eyed. "Every-
one has been right about me - I'm nothing but a worthless
drunk who can't defend himself! I didn't tell you about the
derro patrol that found me outside of Thorbardin after you
left
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