Книга только для ознакомления
. "You are confused," he ex-
plained. "Master Denzil is a model passenger. I'll take no
action against him on the whim of a couple of casta-
ways." The steward laughed at what he considered to be
a silly request.
Walking away to resume his duties, the sailor shot
back over his shoulder, "We should reach Port Balifor in
a few hours. Until then, stay on this deck and don't
bother any of the other passengers."
"But he's --"
"I said, don't bother any of the other passengers."
roared the steward. Then he turned and strode back to
his post at the stern of the ship.
As soon as the ship tied up and the gangplank was
lowered, Tasslehoff and Woodrow were ordered off.
They retreated into the beehive of barrels, bundles,
sacks, and urns that covered the wharf.
"We can follow Denzil easily in all this bustle without
being seen," proposed Tasslehoff. "Let's wait here and see
what happens."
Shaking his head dazedly, Woodrow kept walking
through the throng. "No, Mr. Burrfoot. I don't mean to
be disrespectful, but I intend for us both to get as far
away from that murderer as possible." Suddenly the hu-
man was dragged to a stop by the surprisingly strong
arms of the kender.
"Wait, Woodrow," Tasslehoff insisted. "That Denzil
guy is dangerous, and we can't just let him walk away. If
not for Gisella's sake, then for our own safety we'd better
keep track of him. He'll be a lot more dangerous if he gets
out of our sight."
Woodrow stood silently behind the kender. He was
still jittery, but his friend's confidence soothed his nerves
somewhat
|
