### 197

You are almost out of bowshot when an arrow gashes your calf (lose 2 ENDURANCE points) and thuds into the side of the pontoon. You bite your lip and stifle your urge to scream, for you are now within range of the city's archers. As soon as the pontoon grounds on the bank, you slip ashore and creep across the rocks towards the sewer outfall.

Turn to 249.

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