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. It
seemed odd that the boy was not at his mother's side during
her time of grief. On the other hand, Basalt's brothers and
sisters - Aylmar and Bertina had had more than half a
dozen children, by Flint's best reckoning - had been strug-
gling to outdo each other in offering comforts to their noto-
rious Uncle Flint. He could neither smoke nor drink fast
enough to keep up with the refills they offered him. A seem-
ingly endless stream of plates, each loaded with an unusual
treat, was placed before him by a niece or nephew. He sam-
pled spiced goose eggs, cream cakes and fruit pies, bits of
succulent meat, fish larvae, and other exotic delights.
A pair of geese had been butchered and an impromptu
feast prepared. Flint tore off a bite from a drumstick now
and decided to engage Ruberik in a discussion more suited
to his brother's somber mood.
Taking a handkerchief from his pocket, Flint scrubbed the
grease from his mustache and beard. "Please tell me," he be-
gan, "what you know of our brother's untimely death."
Ruberick grew grimmer still. "Aylmar had been laboring
at his trade, blacksmithing, and his heart gave out on him
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