" But the legate shook his head. "Not
worth the trouble. Cargill said it was a private affair. You might
search him, make sure he's not concealing contraband weapons," he added,
and talked softly to the wide-eyed clerk in the background while the
guards went through my shirtcloak and pockets.
When they started to unwrap the silk-shrouded Toy I yelled--if the thing
got set off accidentally, there'd be trouble. The legate turned and
rebuked, "Can't you see it's embroidered with the Toad God? It's a
religious amulet of some sort, let it alone."
They grumbled, but gave it back to me, and the legate commanded, "Don't
mess him up any more. Give him back his knife and take him to the gates.
But make sure he doesn't come back."
I found myself seized and frog-marched to the gate. One guard pushed my
skean back into its clasp. The other shoved me hard, and I stumbled,
fell sprawling in the dust of the cobbled street, to the accompaniment
of a profane statement about what I could expect if I came back.
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