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."
SYLVERLIN!
The head of Nelk's mace rested, as if by accident, on
Arryl's shoulder. The knight took the hint and watched in
impotent rage as the gladiators carried the body from the
field. Tremaine's gaze shifted to where the senior inquisitor
sat. For the first time, Brother Gurim stared back.
"Accidents could happen at any time," Nelk was saying
casually, "especially to those who are not familiar with
weapons. Take the boy, for instance...."
The knight turned sharply. "You wouldn't!"
"HE would," the elf replied, indicating Brother Gurim.
"Can you stand by and let others die because of your
stubbornness?"
The Oath and Measure of the knighthood said
otherwise. To allow others to die in his place would be
tantamount to cowardice.
"The boy can be saved," Nelk said softly. "Brother
Gurim wants you, not him."
To prove that a cleric could make a Solamnic Knight
yield his principles. To make a knight bow to the cleric's
will. Brother Gurim's countenance might be expressionless,
but his eyes were not. The senior inquisitor would order the
boy's death if Arryl rejected his demands.
Arryl turned away, faced Nelk. "What will happen to
the boy?" the knight asked.
"A mix-up
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