Death of a Dwarf

Home > Fantasy > Death of a Dwarf > Page 12
Death of a Dwarf Page 12

by Pete Prown


  * * *

  Not long after, the Dwarves returned to the leeward cave and stoked a smaller fire, bringing the flames and heat up. They had brought all kinds of provisions with them, and as dawn approached in the horizon, the group had a grand feast of meats, cheese, thick seeded bread, garnet-colored wine, and roasted root vegetables. They spoke little, but shared their food generously with the Halflings until all were sated and drowsy.

  The troupe slept peacefully, the dead having risen and the living too weary to move any further that night.

  A Robbery

  “There you are, Winderiver! I’ve been looking for you all day!” exclaimed Hiram Bindlestiff, his face red and stormy. “What kind of operation are you running here? Imagine, a village with a sheriff who hides all day!”

  Wearily looking up from the desk in the gaol, “Mr. Bindlestiff, your insults won’t win you favor here. I’ve only just returned from a mission to the Great Wood. I’ve traveled many miles, and I’m very tired.”

  “That’s none of my concern, Winderiver. What is important is the fact that my office was burgled! Your so-called Pie Thief has returned.”

  Dorro stood up quickly. “He did? What did the villain get?”

  “My important papers, for one thing!” barked Bindlestiff. “These are confidential documents, Winderiver, and if I don’t get them back, I’ll have the Mayor on your back.”

  “Why would he want papers? Until now, the thief has only taken material goods: clothing, money, tools … pies!”

  “That’s for you to figure out, Sheriff,” he added snidely. “If you catch him, I’ll ask the Mayor for the maximum penalty. A good public hanging is what I’d like to see! And there’s a reward, too—ten gold pieces for whoever returns my stolen papers. Make sure that gets around the village.”

  At that, Hiram Bindlestiff stormed out of the gaol, something Dorro mildly appreciated. He loathed that pompous windbag, but still he had a duty to perform, exhausted as he was. The bookmaster took a long draught of water from a ewer on the table and went back to check on Sheriff Forgo. The lawman had lost quite a bit of weight, but Dorro noted he was resting comfortably, as if having an afternoon nap. He honestly thought Forgo looked a little better, and prayed it was true.

‹ Prev