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finality.
"I knew him once, long ago, and we called each other 'friend'. I suppose that
seeing the devastation around him has changed his heart."
"Bah," Mungim replied. "Ye saw the face he did present to others, when
Hyperborea were aright. Now, in times of trial, we see the true cut of his
axe."
I nodded. "You're probably right," I said, then changed the subject. "What
other news is there, friend?"
"Ah! Me pardon. I did tell ye the bad and neglect the good," Mungim replied,
and grinned around his pipestem. "Our king did come to an agreement with the
Queen of the Elves, where their merchants may travel free-like through certain
passes in the mountains to do trade with the humans of the south-lands without
having to skulk about and sneak across our lands like thieves to avoid our
patrols. To do trade with ye, of course, they just do travel around the
northern foothills and avoid our lands all entire. It be not much, but it be a
start towards a better relationship, I be thinking."
I grinned broadly. "That is good news. Perhaps even the start to a lasting
peace between the elves and the dwarves."
Mungim nodded. "Aye. E'en though I have no particular love of the
dandelion-eaters, as a merchant, I think peace be good. War be bad for
business."
"Unless you sell weapons," I added with a grin.
Mungim chuckled. "Aye, Eddas. Just so."
We chatted for a bit more after that, then finally got down to the business of
trading. My needs hadn't really changed in all the nearly five decades Mungim
had been trading with me - powder and shot for my blunderbuss, mainly, along
with the occasional tool and small items like soap and tooth-brushes and
tooth-powder. In the last few years, however, he'd learned that I could be
tempted greatly if he brought the right items. I, in turn, found I had to
control my expression as though I was playing chatto for my life - Mungim was
a shrewd bargainer, whose skills were matched by few.
The byallar grown on my lands which the giants harvested for me was the
strongest and richest available. By the old agreement we had worked out years
ago, in exchange for harvesting for me - in fact, for doing all the work for
me - the giants took three parts in four of the harvest. This usually left me
with anywhere from fifty to a hundred and fifty barrels of ground and roasted
seeds, which was far more than I could possibly drink in several centuries.
Nearly all of what they took themselves they brewed and drank themselves -
giants brewed it by the barrel. Their own variety, while good, wasn't as
strong and flavorful as that grown on my lands - the giants had spent ages
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breeding their trees for quantity, not quality. What they got from me they
rarely traded, but instead saved for special occasions throughout the year.
So, since the supply of my variety of byallar was limited, it was highly
valuable. Though I hadn't been present for the fall harvest, and as such the
giants had been allowed by our agreement to claim all of the harvest, they had
been kind enough to give me five barrels so I'd have something to trade with.
Aside from finding out what it was I would like to trade for when he came by
again in the fall, Mungim was determined that he would leave none for the
elven trader he knew was due to come by my lands any day now.
After trading two barrels for the basic supplies I needed (more powder, shot
and flints for my blunderbuss, four toothbrushes and another jar of tooth
powder, two dozen cakes of soap, a stone of sugar, two stone of flour, a wheel
of salt, and a stone of ground pepper), I really didn't need much else. Mungim
knew I didn't need anything, but he was determined to try. He showed me a
dwarven invention - a percolating pot for making byallar in that could make up
to thirty cups at once (I wasn't interested - I rarely have more than one
visitor at a time). He showed me a collection of delicately painted ceramic
plates and cups (I wasn't interested - I had plenty of cups and mugs, and all
the food I ate I summoned by sorcery, and it came in wooden bowls that were
easily disposed of by tossing them into the fire for firewood - no dishes to
wash).
"Ye be a hard bargainer, Eddas! Would ye have me a penniless pauper, now?"
Mungim exclaimed, mock-grief in his voice. I chuckled, and Mungim grinned. "I
do have one more item that may yet tickle your fancy," he said, and pulled out
another box from his wagon. "Me sister did suggest this, may Moradim bless her
heart," he said, clapping his hands briefly, then opening the box. He pulled
out a bundle of cloths he'd used as padding, producing a smaller, flat box,
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