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"He's here lookin' for you, Doune."
That was thirty gold in kender topknot sitting at the
table. Ah, life is mighty sweet, I thought, when the bounty
comes looking for the hunter. I fingered the hilt of my
sword, told Chance to get me some food, and said that I'd
like to have it by the time I got back from hauling the
kender's butt to the jail.
But Chance closed his hand round my wrist, gripping
hard. "Maybe you should eat first, eh, Doune?"
The kender cocked his head, eyes alight and grinning
as if he was expecting to have some fun.
Then someone told me - a woman's voice, as soft and
deadly as a steel blade cutting cold air - that no one would
be hauling kender anywhere tonight.
I turned fast on my heel, sword half drawn, and nearly
spitted myself on her blade. The tall swordswoman set the
point of her steel gently against the base of my throat.
Chance never lifted voice or hand in my defense.
"How much did they pay you, Chance?" I asked
bitterly.
"Just exactly enough," he said, not even bothering to
try for shame. He said no more, and I heard him leave for
the kitchen.
"Gently," the swordswoman said, smiling and
flattening out her words so that they were a taunt
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