### 301

With the speed and grace of movement that marks you as a Kai Master, you load, take aim and fire. Your arrow pierces the lordling's forearm as his sword descends, causing the blow to splinter stone, not skull. He utters a shrill cry and spins backwards, cradling his wounded arm as he falls.

'Curse you, scum!' he shrieks, 'I am Roark, highborn of Amory. I shall have your life for this--mark my words!'

Trembling with pain and fury, he staggers to his feet and demands his sword and cloak from the innkeeper before stumbling into the night with a welter of threats and curses.

Turn to 281.

Text copyright © 1985 Joe Dever.
Illustrations copyright © 1985 Gary Chalk.