All dwarfs are misers at heart, thought Felix. Gotrek appeared to consider for a second then shook his head.

"No. If this Duke has been exiled he's a criminal and he's not getting his hands on my gold."

He ducked his head and looked around with paranoiac shiftiness. "That treasure is ours, yours and mine. Mostly mine, of course, since I'll do the bulk of the fighting."

Felix felt like laughing. There was nothing worse than a dwarf in the throes of gold-lust.

"Gotrek, we don't even know if there is any treasure. All we've got to go on are the ramblings of some senile old prospector who claims to have seen the lost horde of Karag Eight Peaks. Faragrim couldn't remember his own name half the time."

"Faragrim was a dwarf, manling. A dwarf never forgets the sight of gold.You know the problem with your people? You have no respect for your elders. Among my people Faragrim is treated with respect."

"No wonder your people are in such dire straits then," muttered Felix.

"What was that?"

"Nothing. Just answer me this. Why didn't Faragrim return for the treasure himself? He's had eighteen years."

"Because he showed proper fiscal caution.,."

"Meanness, you mean."

"Have it your way, manling. He was crippled by the guardian. And he could never find anybody he could trust."

"Why suddenly tell you then?"

"Are you implying I am not trustworthy, manling?"

"No. I think he wanted rid of you, he wanted you out of his tavern. I think he invented the cock-and-bull story about the world's largest treasure guarded by the world's largest troll because he knew you would fall for it. He knew it would put a hundred leagues between you and his ale cellar."

Gotrek's beard bristled and he growled angrily. "I am not such a fool, manling. Faragrim swore to the truth on the beards of all his ancestors."

Felix groaned. "And no dwarf has ever broken an oath, I suppose?"

"Well - very rarely," admitted Gotrek. "But I believe this one."

Felix saw that it was no use. Gotrek wanted the story to be true, so for him it was true. He's like a man in love, thought Felix, unable to see his beloved's frailties for the wall of illusions he has built around her. Gotrek stroked his beard and stared into space, lost in contemplation of the troll-guarded horde. Felix decided to play his trump card.

"It would mean we wouldn't have to walk," he said.

"What?" grunted Gotrek.

"If we sign on with the Baron. We could hitch a ride on a cart. You're always complaining that your feet hurt. This is your chance to give them a rest."

"Just think," he added enticingly. "We get paid and you don't get sore feet."

Gotrek appeared to contemplate this once more. "I can see I'll get no peace unless I agree to your scheme.