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. He
had discovered a makeshift trail in the base of a narrow ra-
vine and veered off the Passroad to lose his pursuer. Now, at
the crest, he looked behind and saw for the second time the
stalwart figure on his trail.
There was just a flash of movement before his pursuer dis-
appeared into a wide belt of pines fringing the base of the
ridge. But the glimpse had been enough to convince the
crusty dwarf that his suspicions had been well-founded.
Flint resolved to wait for whomever followed him, forcing a
confrontation on his own terms.
Flint crept back into the narrow ravine, retracing his steps
for a dozen yards down the side of the ridge. He wiped his
sleeve across his sweaty brow as he found a sheltered ledge
with a fine view of the ravine below. There he sprawled.
Withdrawing his axe from his belt, he laid the weapon be-
side him on the rock.
His elevation, coupled with the steepness of the ridge,
gave him a significant vantage. He gathered an assortment
of rocks, some as big as his head, so that he could lob them
using both hands, and some fist-sized stones that he could
easily pitch with one hand
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