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. They had the feeling they were being watched,
followed. Nikol kept her hand on her sword; Michael
stopped continually, looked behind. They saw nothing,
heard nothing, but the feeling did not leave them.
"At least," said Nikol, "we have a clear view of the road
from here." She stared long and hard down the mountain,
down the way they'd come. Nothing stirred along the
broken path.
"It's our imagination," said Michael. "We're jumpy,
after what happened in Palanthas, that's all."
They sat down on the ground that was smooth with a
covering of dead pine needles and ate sparingly of their
meager supplies.
The sky was gray, laden with heavy clouds that hung so
low, wisps seemed to cling to the tall firs. Both were
oppressed, spirits subdued by a feeling of dread and awe.
When they finally spoke, they did so in low voices,
reluctant to shatter the stillness.
"It seems strange," said Michael, "that the knights do
not clean up this road. The Cataclysm was almost a year
ago, time enough to build bridges, remove these boulders,
fill in the cracks. Do you know," he continued, talking for
the sake of talking, not realizing what he was saying, "it
looks to me as if they've left the road in disrepair on
purpose. I think they're afraid of being attacked - "
"Nonsense!" said Nikol, bristling. "What do the knights
have to fear? That drunken scum in Palanthas? They're
nothing more than paid henchmen for that false cleric. The
citizens of Palanthas respect the knights, and well they
should
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