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"Besides," said Caramon, standing up to glare at his older two
sons, his tone now severe, "you both promised Porthios you'd go
to Qualinesti and help the elves handle those draconian raiding
parties. You know what Porthios is like. It took him ten years to
even speak to us. Now he's showing signs of being friendly. I
won't have sons of mine going back on their word, especially to
that stiff-necked elf. No of tense," he said, glancing at Dalamar.
"None taken," said the dark elf. "I know Porthios. And
now-"
"We're ready," interrupted Palin, an eager look on his
face as he turned to Dalamar. "I've read about this spell
you're going to cast, of course, but I've never seen it done.
What components do you use? And do you inflect the first
syllable of the first word, or the second? My Master says-"
Dalamar coughed gently. "You are giving away our
secrets, young one," he said in smooth tones. "Come, speak
your questions to me in private." Placing his delicate hand
upon Palin's arm, the dark elf drew the young man away
from his father and brothers.
"Secrets?" said Palin, mystified. "What do you mean? It
doesn't matter if they hear-"
"That was an excuse," Dalamar said coldly. Standing in
front of the young man, he looked at Palin intently, his eyes
dark and serious. "Palin, don't do this. Return home with
your father and brothers."
"What do you mean?" Palin said, staring at Dalamar in
confusion
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