No one had lived here since old man Remenham had died some eighteen months ago, for the heir, so it was rumoured, was a relative with property of his own. Trodger might not need his hair dressed, but the flagon of ale that each soldier quaffed would be welcome—once his captain had departed, thought Roding cynically. I'll take off your irons—for I guess that's the reason why you want the hammer and file—on one condition. \" Shari drawled as she looked up from her dissected sausage.
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