the smuggler’s bible


Tor is barely outside of the castle when a dwarf he has never met before in his life clobbers his horse mid-gallop with a cudgel. No kidding, the little guy knocks his horse backward a spear’s length.

“You gotta joust with the knights of the pavilions to earn the right of passage,” the dwarf says once Tor picks himself up off the ground.

“No, I’m not going to do that.”

“Don’t be a spoilsport.”

Tor eyes the knights and, more importantly, the pavilions. All concerned seem gaudy.

“Both at once?” Tor asks, wondering if his horse might have a concussion.