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A dark figure lurked in the doorway for five long min-
utes after the kender and the human left on two small po-
nies. Holding his side to ease the pain of a recently won
duel, the man walked the other way down the street. A
mercenary by trade, he had just stumbled upon his next,
and possibly last, job, if the spoils were all that were
promised on the half-map. This time, he would be work-
ing for himself. Collecting his horse, a dark, menacing
steed, from a nearby alley, he purchased enough provi-
sions for one month; enough time, he figured, to find the
village of Solace and a kender named Tasslehoff.
Chapter 11
"One, two, three, heave!
"One, two, three, heave!"
Tas, Woodrow, and the seven gully dwarves pulled
with all their might, but the waterlogged wagon refused
to budge. They had managed to drag it about halfway up
onto shore. But now it was thoroughly bogged down in
the mud.
Woodrow, standing waist-deep in the water, relaxed
his grip on the rope and eased up to his full height. The
movement aggravated a pain in his back. "I'm sorry,
Miss Hornslager, but I just don't think we can do this.
That wagon hasn't moved in the last twenty pulls."
"Never give up, Woodrow. Those are words to live
by," responded Gisella, still seated atop the wagon. "Now
everybody, one, two, three, heave!"
But even before she got to the word "heave," all nine
heavers had dropped the rope and slogged wearily back
onto the shore. The gully dwarves, who had been in the
shallow water closest to shore, plopped down in a soggy
heap
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