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Between guffaws, Flint asked Nomscul, "Where did you
say you learned this sport?"
Nomscul puffed out his chest. "We sneak teeny-tiny quiet
into Big-Big Room and see Theiwar cracking walls with
cattle-pult machines. It stupid name, since they fling rocks,
not cattle. But it look like fun, so we do Agharpult."
"He's talking about the catapult range," Perian explained,
amazed. "The thane's army trains with some of the heavy
siege equipment in an enormous cavern on the second level.
They practice hitting targets painted on the walls. I'm sur-
prised any gully dwarf has ever seen it, though. That room
is quite a distance from here." Flint thought he saw a glim-
mer of admiration in Perian's eyes as she studied Nomscul,
who just grinned back at her ridiculously.
With tears of laughter rolling down his cheeks, Flint
watched the beefiest Aghar he'd seen yet, launch off the top
of an Agharpult and try to do a somersault in midair. In-
stead of tucking under, however, he wound up sailing across
the room spread-eagled and upside-down, finally splashing
against the far wall and sliding down into a pool of muck
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