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“Yes, uard, who gave it to Thomkin

Thoold “Get him out here”

“To the front, scuuard said

The vendor walked around the stall to the guards

“On your fucking knees,” the guard said, sword half-drawn, “and get that fucking hood off”

The vendor did as he was asked, revealing a crudely drawn tattoo of god-knohat on the back of his shaved head

Less painful than a brand, but just as ugly

“Do you take me for a common fool?” Thomkin said

“No, my lord”

“Tell ain how many coins there are in this purse”

“Thirty-seven, my lord”

“There are thirty-five” As Thouard thrus

t the pommel of his sword into the vendor’s face The vendor shrieked as he hit the floor, blood leaking fro vendors slunk behind their stalls while the shoppers jostled for position to watch the spectacle, no doubt hoping for further violence

Silas felt sorry for the vendor Two fucking coins Yet another reason to take pleasure in killing this bastard

The uards now faced outward, backs to Thomkin, hands on swords