The entire gate was blocked by the fracas, and a queue had developed, waiting to leave the city. The officer watched the exiting flow for a few minutes. Ripple kept a close eye on Umpth and Grod. The Aghar were hard pressed to keep their wagon wheel rolling in the press, but all three passed through the gate while the officer watched the crowd and the guards.

When their superior left, the soldiers chose to take out their bad temper on what they took for two dwarves, one too young for a beard. Trap, just to the side, went unnoticed.

"Who are you and what business did you have in Lytburg?" one of the guards demanded of Beglug.

"Just dwarves seeking to buy precious stones," Halmarain answered for him, but the guard was not satisfied. When the little fiend didn't answer, the guard shoved the point of his spear at Beglug's face.

Beglug leaned forward, bit the steel spearhead off the shaft, and noisily chewed.

The guard stared at his ruined spear. Trap also goggled at the splintered end of the wooden shaft and at Beglug, who happily chewed the metal point. The kender's sense of survival kicked in quicker than the guard's outrage.

Trap grabbed the little merchesti's arm and pulled him forward into the surge of humans pushing through the gate. Behind him, the kender heard the guard bawling to his companions. Trap, Halmarain, and Beglug melted into the crowd that crossed the bridge.

"I hope we don't have too much of that," Halmarain said between gasping breaths as she trotted after the kender.

"Gosh, did you see? He bit the spear in two." Trap said, skipping along to keep pace with the taller humans that surrounded them. "Traveling with Beglug will be really interesting. I wish we could have stayed to hear the guard explain what happened to his spear."

"I don't," the little mage replied. "Let's get ourselves lost-fast,"

They slowed their pace when the crowd thinned out on the other side of the bridge. Trap pushed Halmarain and Beglug into a line of farmer's carts. They walked carefully at the rear of an apple cart, trying hard to stay out from under the hooves of the mules that followed.

"You're going to get us trampled," Halmarain said, ducking her head as the right lead mule nudged the top of her dwarven helmet.

"You said you didn't want the guards at the gate to catch sight of us," Trap said. "Besides, mules are friendly." He reached in his pouch and pulled out an apple that had somehow fallen into it while they were shopping. He fed it to the left leader, which caused it's teammate to nudge more urgently at the little wizard, nearly knocking her off her feet.

The merchesti allowed himself to be bustled along without complaint. He was still happily chewing on the spear point, which had been a large one.

"You know, Beglug's digestive system must be a lava pit," Trap said. "He eats the strangest things. We should try him on rocks."

"He's nightmarish," the small wizard snapped. "And by all the gods, look at his boots. The left had turned side-ways, toe out, and the right was completely backward.

"Maybe no one will notice," the kender said hopefully. By skipping and kicking at Beglug's boots as the fiend raised his feet, Trap turned the toes forward again. Half a mile further on, they found Ripple and the gully dwarves. Grod sat on a rock while Ripple attempted to knock mud off the back of Umpth's hauberk with a handful of branches. She looked as if she were beating him, but by his expression, Umpth was unconcerned with the switches.

"He got tired and sat down in a mud puddle," she explained.

"We won't go much further on the road," Halmarain said, using the magic in her staff to clean the gully dwarf's clothing. "If we stay south of those mountains, we'll be able to cross the foothills."

Their destination was Palanthus, one hundred and seventy-five miles to the north, according to one of Trap's maps. A new map had mysteriously appeared among his belongings after their last shopping trip.

The kender had left the decisions on the route to the wizard's apprentice, since they had no preference as to direction. The gully dwarves had no objections to traveling anywhere if there was plenty of food.

Halmarain led the way east along the road for another half mile, where three large barns, each with a big corral, stood just off the road. A faded sign announced: Glomer's Horses-Bought, Sold, and Boarded.

"I don't intend to walk all the way to Palanthus, especially since we have Orander's magic purse," the little wizard announced as she led the way into the yard. "And keep those gully dwarves from sitting in the dirt," she hissed at Ripple.

Trap could have spent the rest of the day looking at the animals, but Halmarain chose seven ponies in quick succession. She paid for the animals and six saddles and a pack frame with very little haggling. In a short time they were leading their mounts east along the road.

"You paid too much," Trap told Halmarain. "Not that it matters. We'd better find something else to buy. The purse has already filled up again."

"I know I paid too much," the little wizard said. "I wanted to leave before that… before Beglug ate the blacksmith's anvil or the gully dwarves sat down in a pile of manure. Either one would cause more talk than we can afford."

"Who would talk about us?" Trap wanted to know.

"I don't know… no one… everyone… look, humor me. I just have a bad feeling, as if we're not safe."

"Does it come from your magic?" the kender asked, suddenly interested.

Halmarain looked at him with raised eyebrows. "You know, it could," she admitted. "I was trying to learn a magic sensing spell before you… before Orander went through the portal. I didn't bring that book. If I had, I'd study that spell. No, I think I'm worried about making this trip."

"Is that why we're going east instead of west, like you said we would?" Ripple asked.

Halmarain stared at the kender for a moment. She nodded, sighed, and shook her head. "I told you I could not make the journey alone. Which way is west?"

They continued east, leading the ponies until they reached a small wooded area and turned off. When they were out of sight of any passing travelers, they tethered the animals to the trees and tied their bundles on the pack pony. As Halmarain had warned them, she could not reach high enough to tie the bundles. She tried several times before she gave up in disgust and left the job to the kender.

"The fun begins when we try to get that… get Beglug into the saddle," Halmarain said, staring at the little fiend. The gully dwarves had to lift him into the saddle, but Ripple had the happy thought of taking a stick of fire-wood from the horse chandler's wood pile. Soothed with a little snack, the merchesti was happy enough.

They soon discovered the gully dwarves presented a more difficult problem, mainly because the Aghar mixed their lefts and rights. Told to stand on the left sides of the ponies and put their left feet in the stirrups, Umpth took a position on the right and used his left foot. Grod, trying to follow his leader's example by mirroring his actions, stood on the left of his mount, but he used his right foot. Both ended up mounted backward.

"Pony going wrong way," Umpth announced, frowning until his grime-filled wrinkles scrunched together.

"Wizard get wrong end ponies," Grod observed as he twisted to look over his shoulder. The pony turned its head to look back at him.

"Get down. Try it again," Trap said. The kender laughed. The tiny wizard shook her head and predicted dire results before they reached their destination.

Grod immediately tried to throw his right leg over the rump of the pony; his boot tangled in the stirrup and he fell from the saddle. His arms and shoulders touched the ground and his blond beard swept the hard packed dirt. His right boot was still caught in the stirrup that was looped over the saddle.