### 219

The sword whistles past your head and gouges a chunk of stone from the courtyard arch. You hear the monks shouting and you dig in your heels, steering your horse through the archway and along a narrow street that leads to the quadrangle. At this early hour there are few obstacles to slow your escape as you gallop headlong through the twisting streets of Tharro. It is not until you reach the town's north gate that you finally rein in your horse to a halt.

Turn to 347.

Text copyright © 1987 Joe Dever.
Illustrations copyright © 1987 Gary Chalk.