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. "Tanin, you listen to me for a change.
Sturm's right. I didn't 'blubber' when you went off to battle that
first time. At least not when you could see me. But I cried all
night, alone, in the darkness. Don't you think I know that each time
you leave may be the last time we ever see each other? How many
times have you been wounded? That last fight, that minotaur arrow
missed your heart by only two fingersbreadth."
Tanin, his face dark, stared down at his feet. "That's different," he
muttered.
"As Granpa Tas would say, 'A chicken with its neck wrung is
different from a chicken with its head cut off, but does it matter to
the chicken?' " Palin smiled.
Swallowing his tears, Tanin shrugged and tried to grin. "I
guess you're right." He put his hands on Palin's shoulders, looked
intently into his pale face. "Come home, kid! Give this up!" he
whispered fiercely. "It isn't worth it! If anything happened to you,
think what it would do to Mother . . . and Father. . . ."
"I know," Palin said, his own eyes filling despite all his best
efforts to prevent it. "I have thought of that! I must do this, Tanin.
Try to understand. Tell Mother I... I love her very much. And the
little girls. Tell them I'll ... I'll bring them a present, like you and
Sturm always do . . ."
"What? A dead lizard?" Tanin growled. "Some moldy old bat's
wing?"
Wiping his eyes, Palin smiled. "Yeah, tell 'em that. You better
go
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