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Various members of the town council began vying for spots
at the main table. Others formed committees and
subcommittees designed to coordinate the feast. A few
talked of bringing the body back to the village. Eventually,
most of the townspeople drifted off to plan the next day's
events.
His own preparations complete, Torbin steadied his
horse and then remounted and moved away at a trot.
Villagers smiled or bowed in his direction as he rode;
others looked at him with puzzlement. The knight kept his
eyes on the path before him.
At the edge of town, a breathless mayor caught up to
him. "Sir Knight! Where are you going? Will you not join
us at our feast tomorrow? We wish to do you honor."
Torbin pulled the reins tight, bringing the trained
warhorse to a dead stop. He turned the animal around and
matched gazes with the round man for a full half-mmute.
The mayor shifted like a small child under his stare.
Then, as abruptly as he had stopped, Torbin turned his
horse back around to the path and rode off at a trot.
He did not look back.
Hearth Cat and Winter Wren
by Nancy Varian Berberick
The golden tabby eyed the caged squirrel with sleepy
interest
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