With a sneer which he must have fancied to be a smile, the soldier said, ‘What have we here? A fat old Merchant who has taken to dealing in vermin?’

‘It is most fortunate for this child,’ the Merchant replied, ‘that a lout like you speaks no Pixie, and that she thankfully, has no understanding of our Elf tongue.’

Menacingly, the soldier leaned towards the Merchant. ‘Have a care, you old dotard! Travelling alone on the open road has been known to be very hazardous.’

Unruffled, Finli smiled blandly back at him. Leaning over confidingly, he said into the soldier’s face, ‘Watch your mouth, you little guttersnipe! There are sharp ears about, and everything you do gets back to me. You think I don’t know about your little forays into the forest? You have done murder! Yes, I know this about you. And many of your victims have been innocent children, like this. Now, get yourself out of my sight, you gutless piece of filth! If I was to draw my sword, I could easily have your head, and not one of your soldiers would move to stop me!’

Enraged, the soldier had drawn his sword and looked to his Elves for support. But those he had relied on when sneaking about in the forest looked away. The others stared back at him, their expressions unreadable. One of them caught Finli’s eye and nodded, which did not escape the notice of their leader.




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