"Him dead, " Grod spoke up suddenly. "Make a good tale, that. "
"I knew that was coming, " Halmarain said with resignation.
"If he is, there's one bounty gone, " another of the adventurers muttered.
"What happened to him?" The first asked. They looked at Grod for the answer, but he turned to Trap. The kender sighed for the tales he would not hear, still, telling a tale was nearly as good as listening. He searched his mind for a story, The main part of his thoughts was still taken up with his irritation at Halmarain and her assumption that he was a thief.
"He died because a wizard refused to trust him, " Trap said and then wondered how he could continue the story.
"I wouldn't trust a wizard, " the young adventurer laughed. "But go on, tell us what happened to him. "
Trap's head spun with the tales he had already told. He didn't want to repeat himself, and cast his memory back over the dangers they had faced on their journey.
"His trouble began when he was separated from the rest of his band and was just crossing a stream, " he said, shifting on his stool. He gave Halmarain a sour look. "He should have known he was in trouble when, coming from the other direction across the ford, was a wizard wearing red robes. "
His tale included the bog where they had nearly lost the pony. The lost bundles became the wizard's bag with his spellbooks and the constant accusations that Halmarain heaped on his head.
In the tale, the fictitious Trapspringer was forgiving of the wizard and had sunk into the bog to try and rescue the mage's spellbooks. He died in the attempt. By the time Trap finished his story, tears trickled down his cheeks.
The adventurers sighed in unison. The youngest seemed to be genuinely moved. Trap had told such a moving tale that no one even thought to question the fact that a thief and an outlaw had died to prove he was trust-worthy. Those who did not shed tears were affected by the loss of a part of their reward.
"So there's one less outlaw to give us trouble. " Halmarain said, rising from her seat. "We should be going while there's daylight to see our trail, "
Grod, who had been wandering around the room drinking ale from any mug that was unattended, came back to the table and she loaded him with bundles. She hustled the kender and the gully dwarf out of the inn, and down the street to the stables. They hurried through the city gates before they could become entangled with anyone else.
The ride from the foothills to Thelgaard had taken part of the day and the rest was used in shopping, their time in the inn and loading the animals, so sunset was not far away when they rode out of the city. They traveled only two miles before they found a likely place to camp. By the time the gully dwarves gathered firewood and the kender unsaddled and tethered the ponies to graze, darkness had caught them.
"Thelgaard has some friendly people, even if the buildings are boring, " Trap said as he looked wistfully over his shoulder. In the distance he could see torches on the walls of the city, far enough away so the flames could have been twinkling stars.
"We entered in peace, we did our shopping without trouble and we didn't have to fight to get out of the city, " Halmarain said quietly. "I will always remember it as a signal occasion. And since we had Orander's magic purse, we didn't have to worry that we'd run out of steel pieces, " Halmarain answered.
Trap pulled out the purse and peered inside. They had nearly emptied it, confident it would fill up again, but it was only half full.
"Only it's not working like it did before, " he said as he showed it to Halmarain.
"Maybe the magic is wearing out, " Halmarain said as she too peered inside the small leather bag. "All good things come to an end, " the wizard sighed. "I had hoped it would fill up again in case we tumbled into another mess. "
"Hands too full, " Grod said. He was sitting just inside the circle of light thrown by the fire while he inspected his new clothing.
"What do you mean-hands too full?" Trap asked.
"No get more steel pieces. Hands too full of bundles, " the gully dwarf answered. He turned over his new shirt to look at the back, decided he was sitting on a rock, and shifted, his feet on his new pants.
"Stop grinding your clothes into the dirt, " the wizard said in a hollow voice. Clearly her mind was elsewhere. "You mean you've been… " Halmarain stared at the gully dwarf, her eyes wide with disbelief. "You've been… and you put your ill-gotten gains in Orander's purse?"
"Got no pockets, no pouches, no wizard's bag, " Grod said as he stood. He picked up the already soiled new shirt and pants. "Wizard say no find dumps. "
"He's been stealing from everyone we've met!" Halmarain told Trap in an awed voice. "And he's been putting the steel pieces in Orander's purse! You and Ripple found extra coins in your pouches and I found some in my bag. I accused you, but he's been doing it!"
"That's what he said, " Trap agreed, wondering why the little wizard had to tell him what Grod had said. After all, his ears were as good as any human's.
"No hunt in dumps, no find things, " said Umpth who was busy giving himself a good scratch from his head to his feet.
"Aghar find things. Is what Aghar do, " Grod said as if they should understand. He wandered off toward the grazing ponies.
"And if he couldn't search dumps anymore, he searched where he could, which happened to be in the purses of the people around him, " Trap summarized, more for himself than for the wizard.
Halmarain trotted after Grod. Not to be left out of the most entertaining conversation of their journey, the ken-der followed.
"Bid you take the necklace from the dwarves?" she demanded.
"Think Pretty Kender like it, but no could open pouch, " Grod replied, nodding until his red-blond beard bounced energetically. "Go find more magic, " he said. "Need dead squirrel-or rat-or snake. Dead snake good magic. Find one, maybe. " He wandered off.
Halmarain stopped and stood staring after the gully dwarf, too concerned with what he had done to give any notice of his intentions.
"I put a shutting spell on your pouches to make sure you couldn't take anything that belonged to the dwarves, " she said.
"Well! I like that! We told you before we wouldn't take anything from them, " Trap said, laughter making him breathless. "All this time you've been watching us, Grod has been handling everything in sight. " Trap was growing increasingly angry at the little wizard for her distrust, and he made the most of it.
"Wizard, lizard, chicken gizzard, can't tell who's the thief, " he said. "Dash about like a tiny lout, and brings herself to grief. "
"You stop that!" Halmarain shouted at him. She bounced on the balls of her feet, her tiny hands clenched in fists. "Say another word and I'll turn you into a… a… " Bereft of words she raised her right hand and pointed her finger at the kender.
"Halmarain, she can complain, and finds stuff in her sack, " Trap sing-songed as he skipped away. She turned to glare at him. "Fuss and shout and jump about, but she still won't give it back. "
Trap laughed until he was weak in the knees.
"A wizard's distrust, " Trap said, giving Halmarain a knowing look as he wiped away the tears of his mirth. They both knew he was referring to his story in the inn.
"Very well, I owe you both an apology, " the little wizard said as she also calmed down. "But the next time we enter a town, the next time we get near anyone, keep an eye on that gully dwarf. "
"He must really be skilled with his hands, " Trap said. "I had no idea he was slipping steel pieces into that purse, and it was in my pouch. "