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. He was
prepared for almost any eventuality . . . with the exception
of helping a cursing, sputtering, irate dwarf to his feet;
trying to dislodge his brothers from the sand; and facing an
army of silent, grim, half-naked men.
"Why don't they attack us?" Sturm muttered,
floundering about in the water, trying to keep his balance.
"They could cut us to ribbons!"
"Maybe they have a law prohibiting them from harming
idiots!" snapped Tanin irritably.
Dougan had managed, with Palin's help, to stagger to his
feet. Shaking his fist, he sent the gnomes on their way back
to the ship with a parting curse, then turned and, with as
much dignity as he could bluster, stomped across the beach
toward the warriors. Tanin and Sturm followed more
slowly, hands on the hilts of their swords. Palin came after
his brothers more slowly still, his white robes wet and
bedraggled, the hem caked with sand.
The warriors waited for them in silence, unmoving, their
faces expressionless as they watched the strangers
approach. But Palin noticed, as he drew near, that
occasionally one of the men would glance uneasily back
into the nearby jungle. Observing this happening more than
once, Palin turned his attention to the trees
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