You know, I am tasting something fishy. A hint, anyway. Just how dried up was this eel you found?’ The manservant probed with his ladle and lifted the mentioned object into view. Black, wrinkled and not nearly as limp as it should have been. Tehol leaned closer and studied it for a moment. ‘Bugg…’ ‘Yes, master?’ ‘That’s the sole of a sandal.’ ‘It is? Oh. I was wondering why it was flatter at one end than the other.’ Tehol settled back and took another sip. ‘Still fishy, though. One might assume the wearer, being in the fish market, stepped on an eel, before the loss of his or her sole.’ ‘I am
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