“Do you know much about the lands around here?” asked Thomas, waving his finger to indicate the surrounding mountains.

     “Not a great deal,” admitted the nome. “We don’t go out much because of the goblins. So long as we stay here, we’re safe.”

     “So you haven’t, by any chance, heard of a place called the Ruby Keep?” asked the wizard hopefully.

     The Mayor shook his head slowly. “No, I’m afraid not, and I’m sure that if any of us had heard of it, then I would have. We spend all the long evenings telling each other all the stories we’ve heard. What is this place, then? Tell me of it.”

     Thomas made up a story about it being a ruined Agglemonian fortress, not knowing how dangerous the place might be and not wanting to encourage the nomes to go there. Not that there was really much danger of that. Nomes were the most unadventurous of the four civilized races, loving their home comforts and hating anything that took them out into the cold, inhospitable world. If it wasn’t for the necessity to farm their food and trade with neighbouring communities, no nome would ever go out at all, so it wasn’t likely that a bunch of them would cross deep valleys and steep, monster haunted ridges to visit the lair of a Gem Lord. Why take chances, though?

     As the evening drew on, the number of nomes in the hall fell as they began to make their way back to their own homes, and the teamsters found themselves struggling to stay awake as the vast quantity of food they’d consumed began to take its toll. The ever hospitable nomes, seeing this, offered them the use of their beds in which to spend the night, suggesting that the tall humans could push pairs of beds together end to end, but Diana politely declined the kind offer. The nomes had put themselves out quite enough for them already, and she wasn’t going to inconvenience them any further. They spread their sleeping blankets out on the floor, therefore, on top of mattresses and pillows supplied by the nomes, and had the comfiest nights sleep they’d had since leaving Redhill.

     Thomas was in the middle of a very pleasant dream in which he and Lirenna were all alone in a wide open, sunlit meadow, strolling hand in hand through the knee high grass, when the piercing note of a trumpet blasted right in his ear, making him cry out in alarm and jump halfway to the ceiling. There was a gaggle of triumphant laughter and half a dozen nome children were sprinting for one of the doors as fast as their stubby legs would carry them.

     “Hell!” swore the wizard, his heart pounding madly in his chest and the note still ringing in his ears. “Damned kids!”

     Shaun chuckled in amusement. “Pastorans,” he said. “We knew what we were getting into. What time is it?”

     “About dawn,” said Arroc, getting to his feet. “Time we were up,”

     “How can you tall it’s dawn?” demanded Thomas irritably, looking around the hall. There were no windows, and only windowless corridors visible through the seven doors. No view of the sky or the valley outside. “It might still be midnight for all we know.”

     “It’s dawn,” repeated Arroc. “We trogs have developed the ability to keep track of time even though underground for months at a time. We’re seldom wrong.”

     “Okay, I believe you,” said the wizard, also rising, stretching and opening his jaws in a bonecracking yawn. “Suppose we’d better make a move, then. Pity, I was hoping for a bit of a lie in.”

     They packed away their sleeping blankets, and as soon as the nomes realised they were up and about they began to lay out a lavish breakfast for them. “Where’s Naomi?” asked Dennis, noticing for the first time that the black girl was missing.

     They looked around, and Shaun found her tiger skin tucked under a cushion on one of the chairs. “She must have, er, gone for a walk,” he said, looking around as if expecting her to walk in stark naked any minute. “Gone exploring, perhaps.”

     They saw her a few minutes later, in her small housecat form, being stroked and petted by a group of crooning nome children. “They won’t hurt her, will they?” asked Diana, worried by the Pastorans’ reputation for pranks and jokes.

     Dennis laughed. “You didn’t see her on the island,” he said. “Don’t worry, she can take care of herself.”

     Teasel returned a moment later, having spent the night with a nome family in one of their spare rooms. “I’ve been talking to some of their soldiers,” she said as she took her place between Dennis and Diana. “Some of their people who leave the valley now and again on patrols, checking out what the goblins are up to. They were able to give me some bits of advice on areas to stay away from and the easiest paths over the high ridges, so our journey should be a good bit easier now.”

     “Good,” said Shaun as he tucked heartily into his fried bacon and eggs. “So our stop here was well worthwhile.”

      “Don’t eat too much,” warned the nome with a bubbly chuckle. “It’s still a long walk over rough country. Having an overfull stomach won’t make it any easier for you.”

     “We’ll be back on trail rations soon enough,” replied Shaun around a mouthful of fried bread. “I want to enjoy a good feed while I’ve got the chance.”

     The nomes squealed in delight hearing this, and more fried eggs and rashers of bacon were piled up on his plate while more of the small, friendly humanoids dashed back and forth from the kitchens for more.

     Finally they could eat no more, and getting to their feet they told the nomes that they’d enjoyed their visit and had been delighted by their hospitality, but that the time had come for them to leave. The nomes cried out in disappointment and begged them to stay one more day, but Teasel was firm but polite, explaining that they were on an important mission and couldn’t afford to delay. The nomes cried out again, but gave in and went back outside, to where the whole population of the valley was gathering to see them off.

     Before they left the hall, however, Teasel made an excuse and held back, telling the nomes to wait for them outside. “We won’t be a minute,” she told the mayor, who’d dressed in all his ceremonial robes for the occasion. “There’s just one more thing we’ve got to do before we go.”

     The mayor nodded his understanding and left, leaving the teamsters alone in the hall.

     “What is it?” asked Shaun in confusion. “What’s up?”

     “Quick, we haven’t got much time,” said Teasel urgently. “Go into one of the neighbouring homes and pick up some small, not very valuable item or nick knack.”

     “What for?” asked Dennis.

     “To take with us,” said the nome. “And make sure you keep it hidden!”

     Diana gave a gasp of shock. “You mean steal it?” she cried in horror.

     “Borrow it,” corrected the nome with a smile. “Among Pastorans, if you want to compliment a host who’s shown you hospitality, you ‘borrow’ something of theirs. It’s a great insult not to. You’re implying that they’ve got nothing worth taking. Now hurry! They’re waiting for us!”

     Shaun and Thomas stared at each other in amazement, then gave a cry of delight and dashed through one of the doorways into the neighbouring rooms. “I don’t believe this!” protested Diana, however. “Theft as a social courtesy?”

     “What’s the matter?” asked Teasel in amusement. “Does your religion forbid you to steal? I could ‘borrow’ something for you, if you like.”

     “Absolutely not!” cried the cleric. Then she calmed down, though, remembering that other cultures had their own customs, their own traditions. She remembered Father Bryon telling her that it was a mistake to judge others by your own standards. A mistake that could get you into a lot of trouble. She nodded to herself. “Perhaps I could ‘borrow’ something really small and trivial...”

     “Make sure it’s something that’ll be missed, otherwise there’s no point,” said the nome as Arroc and Naomi, now back in human form, went off to look for something. “An ornament would be ideal. One of those china figures, perhaps.”

     Thomas chose a wooden paperweight, beautifully carved into the shape of a nomish boy and girl sitting on a bench holding hands, and Shaun chose a small bronze dagger that looked as though it had once belonged to a goblin. Diana picked up a small embroidered handkerchief and gazed in adoration at the flowers picked out in wonderfully fine thread. “Perfect!” said Teasel, coming up behind her. “Shove it in a pocket and let’s go.”

     “I can’t take this!” protested the cleric. “It must have taken her days to do. She’ll be heartbroken to find it gone.”

      “In a couple of hours she’ll be bragging about it to all her friends,” replied Teasel impatiently, snatching it and thrusting it into the cleric’s pocket. “Besides, she probably ‘borrowed’ it herself from someone else. Now come on! They’ll be wondering what’s happened to us.” She grabbed the cleric’s hand and pulled her back out into the corridor.

     The teamsters gathered by the front door, and Thomas was amused to see a blush of guilt spreading across Diana’s face as the crowd of nomes began cheering and jumping up and down. Suddenly, the wizard’s heart froze, though, as an awful thought occurred to him. Teasel was a Pastoran nome, and Pastorans loved to play practical jokes on the people around them. What if this was one of her jokes, making them steal from their hosts so that they’d be thrown out of the valley in disgrace? She’d promised back in Redhill that she wouldn’t play any jokes on her teammates, but who knew? Maybe the temptation had simply been too great to resist. He almost ran back inside, to return the paperweight before they realised he'd taken it, but what if Teasel was telling the truth after all? The wizard broke out in a cold sweat as he realised he had no choice but to trust the tiny nome, and he prayed as hard as he’d ever prayed in her life that she was telling the truth.

     As Teasel trotted down the slope of the hill towards the crowd, though, she stumbled on something and half a dozen silver spoons fell out of her sleeve, clattering noisily on the red tinted paving stones. Thomas almost had a heart attack, expecting the crowd to react in anger, but instead the nomes burst out in delighted laughter and the wizard realised she’d done it on purpose. One final compliment to their hosts.

     He almost fainted in relief, and then began grinning all over his face as he came to fully understand the Pastorans’ mentality for the first time. They had virtually no envy, no jealousy, no selfishness. No greed and almost no sense of personal property. There were no rich Pastorans and no poor ones. They simply took what they wanted, and the nomes who’d held it previously thought nothing about just letting them have it. How much of the evil from which the other races suffered could be avoided if they could only be more like that? he wondered.

     The cheering crowd followed them all the way to the end of the valley, where the guards made a big ceremonial show of opening the gates for them. The teamsters paused to say one last goodbye, and the nomes cheered back at them, some of them waving flags and bits of cloth as though the teamsters were royalty on an official visit. The mayor stepped forward, and Thomas wasn’t too surprised to find that it was a different nome than it had been the night before. Evidently, whoever ‘borrowed’ the chain became mayor until someone else, in turn, ‘borrowed’ it from them. Sure as hell beats a military coup, thought the wizard in amusement. We’ve got to stop the Shads from destroying these people! We’ve got to!

     Finally, they finished their goodbyes and the teamsters started to walk down the rough cart track away from the valley. The nomes continued to shout and cheer after them, and some of them followed them for a considerable distance out of the valley, only stopping when they were almost out of sight of their homes behind them.

     Thomas looked back one last time as the road they were following crested a low hill and saw some of the younger nomes still standing there, waving cheerily at them. He waved back, and then they were over the hill and Noklin Valley passed out of sight behind them.