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. Even the old trees
of Wayreth seemed to have been lulled into forgetting their
guardian duties and slumbered drowsily at their posts. On
this evening, the inn itself was quiet, too.
It was too quiet, so two strangers thought as they
approached the inn. Dressed in rich clothing, their faces
were covered with silken scarves - an unusual thing in such
warm weather. Only their black eyes were visible and,
exchanging grim glances, they quickened their steps,
shoving open the wooden plank door and stepping inside.
Slegart sat behind the bar, wiping out a mug with a dirty
rag. He had been wiping out that same mug for an hour now
and would probably have gone on wiping it for the next
hour had not two incidents occurring simultaneously
interrupted him - the entry of the two muffled strangers
through the front door and the arrival of the servant girl,
running breathlessly down the stairs.
"Your pardon, gentlemen both," Slegart said, rising
slowly to his feet and holding up his hand to check one of
the strangers in his speech. Turning to the servant, he said
gruffly, "Well?"
The girl shook her head.
- Slegart's shoulders slumped. "Aye," he muttered.
"Well, p'rhaps it's better so
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