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"Hey!" cried Tanin angrily, collaring the thief.
"Ijustwantedtolookatit!" whined the gnome, cringing.
"Iwasgoingtogiveitbackhonest. You see," he said, talking
more slowly as Tanin released his grip, "we have
developed a revolutionary new design in helms. There's
just a few problems with it, such as getting it off one's
head, and I - "
"Thank you, we're not interested," Tanin growled,
yanking the helm away from the gnome, who was admiring
it lovingly. "C'mon, Little Brother," he said, turning to
Palin. "Help me get Sturm to bed."
"Where is bed?" Palin asked tiredly. "And, no, I'm not
going back into that foul-smelling hold again."
"Me either," Tanin said. He looked around the deck and
pointed. "That lean-to-looking thing over there seems to be
about the best place. At least it'll be dry."
He indicated several wooden planks that had been
skillfully and ingeniously fit together to form a small
shelter. Leaning against the hull, the planks were beneath
the sail as it rumbled past, and protected those lying within
from water and falling fish.
"It is dry," said Dougan smugly. "That's my bed."
"It WAS your bed," returned Tanin. Leaning down, he
shook Sturm. "Wake up! We're not going to carry you! And
hurry up, before that god-cursed sail decapitates us
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