### 273

You are about to strike when your assailant shouts, 'I am Ronan, my lord. I mean you no harm.'

You manage to divert your blow at the last moment and your weapon smashes the back of a wooden chair. The beads of sweat that have broken out on the sailor's face appear to confirm that he speaks the truth.

Lower your weapon and turn to 160.

Text copyright © 1984 Joe Dever.
Illustrations copyright © 1984 Gary Chalk.