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."
Graym shook his head. "Nah, nah. This is just counting,
and remembering" - he took another sip of ale - "and
history. We started with nine barrels. Remember the
loading? We pushed them on from all sides, and they
shifted when we started rolling."
Fenris nudged his brother. "And one rolled away and
smashed on Dog Street."
Fanris kicked him. "I couldn't hold it. It was hard to
see, it being dark and all."
Darll's eyes opened. "You loaded in the dark? For the
love of Paladine, why?"
Jarek said reasonably, "We didn't want to be seen."
Darll laughed, a short bark. "No wonder the horses ran
off. They didn't even know you, did they? You stole them!
AND the cart, I'll wager."
"Jem and Renny, poor flighty nags. They never liked
us," Graym said sadly. "Well, that's one barrel. Eight left."
"There was the barrel on the bridge," Jarek offered, "out
side of town."
"We'd picked up Darll, and he was putting up a fight - "
"That's right, blame me." Darll glared at them all. "I
only wanted to leap off at the bridge."
"And hit us," Fenris said.
"And kill us," Fanris added, hurt.
"And hit and kill you," Darll agreed. "I did fairly well,
for being hung over."
"You might have drowned, sir," Graym said. "That
wouldn't do when you're in our charge, would it?"
"He hit me," Jarek said, rubbing his head.
"And me," Fen said.
"And me," Fan added.
Darll settled back. "Stop whining. I didn't kill you." His
scowl, fierce under his salt-and-pepper beard, seemed to
add an unspoken "yet
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