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. Wingover eased the reins and headed for them,
looking for signs of a trail.
At first there was none, then in a low place that might
once have been a mudflat he saw tracks. They were old
tracks, but still clear - at least three horses, and the
short, wide .prints of dwarven boots. The trail disap-
peared short of the hill, but Wingover made left and cir-
cled around it, his eyes roving the landscape. Sometimes
he raised his shield to eye-level and peered over the top
edge of it. An old trick, it was a way to see distinct move-
ment that might otherwise lose itself in mirage. So far he
had seen nothing, but vagrant breezes carried the stink of
goblins. Wingover knew they were out there some-
where.
As much as he watched the land around him, he
watched the ears of his horse. The animal smelled gob-
lins, too, and was wary. Its ears swiveled this way and
that, pausing sometimes. When they did, Wingover
scanned in their direction.
The hill was a smooth mound, and as Wingover
passed it he saw two more, just as the dwarf had de-
scribed. They lay about a mile ahead, with some draws
and gullys lacing the lower ground between.
Geekay's ears turned, fixed on a direction ahead and to
the left, and a tremor ran along his mane
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