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"Caramon
got rid of me!" Tas cried.
"Tasslehoff Burrfoot, you
have all the brains of a doorknob, as Flint told you many times. He got
rid of me! He's going there to die! Sending me to rescue Tanis
was just an excuse!" Distraught and unhappy, Tas started down the street
one way and up it another. "Now, what do I do?" he muttered.
He took a step toward
Caramon. Then he heard a trumpet sound again, this time with a shrill,
blaring note of alarm. And, rising above it, he thought he could hear a
voice, shouting orders--Tanis's voice.
"But if I go to Caramon,
Tanis will die!" Tas stopped. Half-turning, he took a step toward Tanis.
Then he stopped again, winding his topknot into a perfect corkscrew of
indecision. The kender had never felt so frustrated in his entire life.
"Both of them need me!"
he wailed in agony. "How can I choose?"
Then--"I know!" His brow
cleared. "That's it!"
With a great sigh of
relief, Tas spun around and continued in the direction of the gate, this
time at a run.
"I'll rescue Tanis," he
panted as he took a short-cut through the alley, "and then I'll just
come back and rescue Caramon. Tanis might even be of some help to me."
Scuttling down the alley,
sending cats scattering in a panic, Tas frowned irritably. "I wonder how
many heroes this makes that I've had to save," he said to himself with a
sniff. "Frankly, I'm getting just a bit fed with all of them!"
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