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The mountain dwarf quickly returned, holding a long,
narrow package wrapped in cotton batting and tied shut
with twine. Flint watched expectantly, unable to guess its
contents.
Perian's head was dipped nervously as she untied the par-
cel with shaky hands. "I've wanted to give you this for a day
or two, but the moment just never seemed right. I wish I
could have spent a few more days on it..." she mumbled
mysteriously as she fumbled with the twine. "Oh, here!" she
said, flustered. She flung back the cloth cover and thrust her
hands toward him. "A weapon befitting a monarch leading
his troops to war."
Curious, Flint peered beyond the wrapping. His breath
caught in his throat and he drew no air, his face paling dan-
gerously.
"What's wrong?" Perian asked, concern and dismay crea-
sing her face. "I - I cleaned it up as best I could. I know it's
very old, but it's an excellent axe, dwarven-crafted, no
doubt. Don't you like it?"
But Flint hardly heard his queen as his eyes focused on the
thing in her hands. He reminded himself to breathe, and
then he willed his hands forward to grasp the axe
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