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My old bones creaked belligerently as I climbed the ladder over
the wall of hard-packed snow and made my way to the boats in the
harbor. Soon, our lone iceboat, sail extended like a billowing
cloud, skittered across the frozen wasteland, carrying twelve Ice
Folk toward the dot of color that marked the strangers.
"There are nine," called Wilmar, Harald's lookout, perched on
the port bow.
"And a polar bear, a good omen!" Harald exclaimed. "Trim the
sail!" Admired for their strength and endurance, polar bears have
long been revered by Ice Folk.
The iceboat swept in a wide, graceful arc, stopping about one
hundred feet from the group of travelers. With a wave of his hand,
Harald ordered us to advance on the strangers.
Harald, his massive form swaying, stepped ahead of us some
twenty feet. "I am Harald Haakan, chieftain of the Ice Folk, the
people whose land you trespass. Return from wherever you came
and we will not harm you."
"Harm us?" a young, heavily armored man scowled. His
moustache bristled with disdain. "Derek Crownguard, Knight of
the Crown, is ordered by no one!"
I watched as irritation swelled Harald's seven-foot frame to full
size and weight. In a moment he would order us to attack.
Suddenly, a young, slender elven maiden twisted her way past
the knight to stand before the strangers. I must confess, my breath
caught in my throat at the loveliness of the woman. Her skin was
clean and creamy, not like the soot-stained complexions of the
women of the camp
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