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. A bonfire had been built in a broad clearing;
the large ash pile was still smoking slightly.
There was a grave, too, with an elf's battered helmet
pounded into the soil above it. The elf rested his hand on
the soil for a few moments, then stood, said nothing. The
goblin noticed, though, that the elf's eyes seemed unusually
red thereafter. The goblin shrugged; vengeance would
make the wizard fight all the harder. And it meant one less
elf in the world.
"We've got to move more carefully," said the kender,
scuffing his bare feet through some flattened tall grass. "If
they rest in the evenings, we could catch them as early as
tomorrow morning. But they could catch us, too. We killed
three of their scouts, but they might not miss them right
away. It looks like they have about twenty men, probably in
armor. They might have slaves, too. Those footprints right
there are barefoot. The slaves probably stay in the wagons
when the Istarians are traveling. Looks like children, maybe
a woman, too."
"Where are they heading?" the elf asked, shading his
eyes to look into the distance. The sky was overcast, but the
cold sun managed to peek through irregular breaks in the
clouds.
"East, probably back to Istar
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