Temporarily distracted by the warm glow of his own affected gallantry, Locke was holding out three silver volani before the first little warning managed to register. The beggar would be happy to have one thin copper, and had a loud voice … why hadn’t they heard her speaking to any of the strangers who’d passed by just ahead of them? And why was she reaching out with the burlap sack rather than an open hand? Jean was faster than he was, and with no more elegant way to get Locke to safety, he raised his left arm and gave Locke a hard shove. A crossbow bolt punched a neat dark hole in the burlap
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